Chapter 6: A Path Stained in Shadows

The scent of blood still lingered in the chapel. It clung to the air, thick and metallic, seeping into the stone floor beneath Phileo's boots. He stood unmoving, his scythe still gripped tightly in his hands, its curved blade reflecting the dim moonlight that filtered through the broken stained-glass windows.

Evelyne was silent.

She wasn't sure what unsettled her more—the way Phileo had fought with deadly precision or the way he stood now, his expression unreadable, as if the battle had meant nothing to him.

Her fingers trembled at her sides.

He had killed those men without hesitation.

Was this the same man who had let her go in the woods? The same man who had looked at her with something close to regret?

Phileo exhaled slowly, then lowered his scythe.

The weapon dissolved into darkness, vanishing as if it had never existed.

Evelyne's stomach twisted at the sight.

"You… what are you?" she finally whispered.

Phileo turned to her. His silver-gray eyes, still sharp from battle, softened just slightly.

"I should be asking you the same thing."

Evelyne tensed. "What?"

Phileo studied her, his gaze lingering on the way her hands trembled—on the way she had held her ground despite everything.

"You're not as afraid as you should be," he murmured.

Her pulse quickened. "You think I should be afraid of you?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The bodies around them were enough proof.

Evelyne's throat tightened. "You said my parents were targets. That the people who sent you are still out there." She took a breath, steadying herself. "Then tell me—why were they killed? What did they do to deserve it?"

Phileo was quiet for a long time.

Then, finally, he said, "They defied the Order."

The weight of those words settled between them.

Evelyne clenched her fists. "And what is the Order?"

Phileo turned away, moving toward the chapel's entrance. "A past you don't want to dig up."

Evelyne took a step after him. "I think I already have."

The wind outside had picked up, carrying the scent of rain. The storm that had been threatening all night was finally closing in.

Phileo stepped outside first, his posture alert. The fight had been loud—if there were more hunters nearby, they wouldn't have much time before reinforcements arrived.

Evelyne followed, her thoughts racing.

Everything she had believed about her parents—about their deaths—was unraveling.

She had spent twelve years searching for the truth.

Now she was standing beside the man who had taken them from her.

And yet…

Something inside her whispered that Phileo was not the villain she had once imagined.

Not entirely.

"You could have killed me back there," she said, watching him carefully.

Phileo didn't look at her. "Yes."

"But you didn't."

"No."

Evelyne's heartbeat quickened. "Why?"

Phileo hesitated. His fingers curled slightly at his sides.

Then he said, almost too quietly, "Because I made a promise."

Evelyne frowned. "A promise?"

Before she could ask more, Phileo suddenly stopped. His posture stiffened.

Evelyne barely had time to react before a new voice cut through the night.

"Well, well."

A man stepped out from the shadows of the trees. His dark cloak billowed in the wind, and a wicked smirk played at his lips. His presence sent a chill down Evelyne's spine.

"You've been busy, Phileo."

Evelyne instinctively stepped closer to Phileo. She didn't recognize the newcomer, but the way he spoke—so casual, yet laced with something dangerous—made her skin crawl.

Phileo's jaw tightened.

"Nikolai."

Evelyne's breath caught.

This man… Phileo knew him.

The smirk on Nikolai's face widened. "You look good for a dead man."

Evelyne's stomach dropped.

Dead man?

Her gaze snapped to Phileo, searching for an explanation. But his face had become unreadable again, his expression carefully guarded.

"Step aside, girl," Nikolai said, his tone almost amused. "This doesn't concern you."

Evelyne's hands curled into fists.

Phileo stepped forward slightly, shielding her. "She stays."

Nikolai sighed dramatically. "Always so stubborn." His fingers twitched near the hilt of his sword. "The Order is tired of chasing you, Phileo. They want their traitor back."

Evelyne's breath caught.

Traitor?

Phileo's stance remained firm. "Not happening."

Nikolai tsked. "I figured you'd say that." He tilted his head. "Then I suppose I'll just have to drag you back in pieces."

Before Evelyne could blink, Nikolai lunged.

Shadows and Steel

Phileo reacted instantly.

He drew his sword just in time to block Nikolai's strike. The sound of metal meeting metal echoed through the night. Sparks flew as the two warriors clashed, their movements swift and deadly.

Evelyne stumbled back, her heart racing.

Phileo was fast. But so was Nikolai.

Their blades danced in a blur of silver, each strike heavier than the last. Nikolai fought with an ease that sent a chill down Evelyne's spine—this wasn't a battle of skill alone.

This was personal.

"I have to say," Nikolai grinned between attacks, "I'm disappointed. You used to be sharper than this."

Phileo didn't reply. He parried another strike, twisting his sword to knock Nikolai off balance.

But Nikolai was quick.

Too quick.

With a sharp movement, he twisted past Phileo's defenses—

And drove his knee into Phileo's ribs.

Phileo grunted, stumbling back.

Evelyne's stomach twisted.

He was holding back.

He wasn't using his scythe.

Why?

Nikolai chuckled, watching Phileo catch his breath. "Ah. I see." His grin widened. "You don't want to scare her off yet."

Phileo's grip on his sword tightened.

Nikolai tilted his head toward Evelyne. "Tell me, girl. Do you know what he is?"

Evelyne's pulse pounded in her ears.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Nikolai's smirk deepened. "He hasn't told you?" His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Hasn't told you what the Order turned him into?"

Phileo's shoulders tensed.

Evelyne's breath caught.

"What is he talking about?" she asked Phileo.

Phileo didn't answer.

Nikolai chuckled. "Oh, this is rich." He wiped a speck of dust from his blade. "You really think you can run from what you are?"

Evelyne looked at Phileo, confusion and unease twisting in her chest.

What was he hiding?

Nikolai took a step forward. "Let me remind you."

His blade flashed.

Phileo barely had time to block.

And this time—he wasn't fast enough.

The tip of Nikolai's sword sliced across his side.

Evelyne gasped as Phileo stumbled, blood blooming against his dark clothes.

Nikolai grinned. "There you are."

Phileo straightened, his breath slow and steady despite the wound.

Evelyne's heart pounded.

He was still holding back.

Why?

And then—

Nikolai's smirk widened.

"Go on," he taunted. "Show her what you really are."

The storm finally broke.

Thunder rumbled.

And Phileo—his expression unreadable—slowly reached for something unseen.

The air shifted.

And then—

The shadows moved.