chapter 24: Shadows in the Wild

The night air was thick with tension as Phileo, Evelyne, and Alsiel pressed forward along the dirt path. Every rustling leaf, every distant howl of the wind, felt like a threat lurking just beyond sight.

Phileo rode ahead, his body tense. The tracks on the ground were fresh—too deliberate. Someone was waiting for them.

Evelyne's grip tightened on the reins. Her body still ached from the wound she had sustained, but the way Phileo's shoulders stiffened told her everything she needed to know. Trouble was ahead.

Then—

A torch ignited in the distance.

Then another.

Figures emerged from the shadows of the trees, blocking the road. Their armor glinted in the dim light, the insignia on their cloaks unmistakable.

The Order.

Her heart clenched.

A familiar voice cut through the night.

"Going somewhere?"

From the center of the road, atop a black stallion, sat Dorian.

Evelyne's pulse quickened. She recognized him immediately. The man who had confronted them in the forest before they left, who had studied her too closely—who had hinted at knowing far too much about Phileo.

And now, he was here.

Phileo exhaled sharply. "Of course."

Alsiel clicked his tongue. "Didn't we already say goodbye?"

Dorian smirked, dismounting with practiced ease. "You wound me, Alsiel. It's almost like you don't enjoy my company."

Alsiel scoffed. "I don't."

Dorian ignored him, his golden eyes settling on Evelyne. "And you," he mused. "Still alive, I see."

Evelyne met his gaze without flinching. "Disappointed?"

He chuckled. "Not at all. In fact, I was looking forward to seeing how far you'd get."

Phileo's patience snapped. "If you're here for a fight, stop talking and draw your sword."

Dorian hummed, amused. "So eager."

The torches flickered as the Order's soldiers shifted behind him, ready.

Phileo's grip on his sword tightened.

Dorian sighed. "No need for theatrics, Phileo. We both know how this ends."

Phileo exhaled. "Yeah."

Then—he dropped his sword.

Evelyne's breath caught.

Dorian frowned slightly. "Giving up already?"

Then Phileo smirked.

A flick of his wrist—and his scythe appeared.

Dorian's smirk vanished.

Phileo moved.

The battle erupted in an instant.

Phileo's scythe sliced through the air, forcing Dorian to leap back. The soldiers hesitated—but not for long. Within seconds, steel clashed, magic flared, and the night was swallowed by chaos.

Alsiel swung his staff, sending a ripple of energy that sent two men flying. Evelyne barely had time to react before someone lunged for her—she twisted, her dagger flashing.

Dorian, however, wasn't retreating.

He moved faster than she could track, blocking Phileo's attacks with an ease that sent a chill through her.

"You've gotten rusty," Dorian mused as he parried another strike.

Phileo didn't respond. His movements were sharper, his attacks relentless.

Dorian chuckled. "Oh? Taking this seriously, are we?"

Then, for the first time, Phileo's scythe connected—forcing Dorian back.

Evelyne's stomach dropped.

This wasn't like before.

Dorian's gaze darkened, his playful demeanor fading. For the first time, he looked serious.

The other soldiers hesitated.

Phileo lifted his scythe, his voice deadly calm.

"Still want to do this?"

Silence.

Then, after a long moment—Dorian smirked.

A slow, amused smirk.

"…You really have changed."

Then, just like that, he sheathed his sword.

The soldiers froze.

"To be continued," Dorian mused, stepping back.

The Order hesitated, but one by one, they obeyed—melting into the darkness of the trees.

Evelyne released a shaky breath.

Phileo didn't lower his scythe until the last figure disappeared.

Alsiel exhaled dramatically. "Well, that was dramatic."

Evelyne turned to Phileo, still shaken. "What just happened?"

Phileo's gray eyes remained locked on the forest.

"A warning."

His grip tightened.

"And next time, they won't leave."