A Perilous Night

Jonan and Enric sat in the driver's seat of the carriage, guiding the horses along the dirt path. Behind them, inside the carriage, Tim and Cham-Cham sorted through the goods, making sure everything was in order.

"Jonan," Enric suddenly spoke, his tone thoughtful. "You're not nervous? I mean, we're heading to a big city… chances are, we'll run into some nobles."

He glanced at Jonan, concern flickering in his eyes. Enric couldn't help but think about how Jonan had ended up in the camp.

Jonan's face remained unreadable, as always. But when he answered, his voice was softer than usual. "I'm fine, Enric. You don't have to worry… but thanks."

Enric studied him for a moment before nodding. He knew better than to push.

Changing the subject, Jonan asked, "By the way, Enric, how long until we reach the city?"

"Hmm, should take us about two or three days," Enric replied. "Depends on the weather."

Jonan hummed in response, staring ahead at the road stretching into the distance.

I have a bad feeling about this…

He sighed.

As they continued their journey toward the city, night began to fall. The dense forest around them grew darker, the towering trees casting long shadows under the dim moonlight.

Enric pulled on the reins, bringing the carriage to a stop. "Alright, guys, it's too dangerous to keep moving through this forest at night," he said.

Turning to Tim and Cham-Cham, he continued, "You two are on supply duty—set up camp and secure the goods for the night. Jonan and I will patrol the perimeter, make sure we don't get any nasty surprises while we sleep." He chuckled lightly, but there was a hint of seriousness behind his words.

Tim and Cham-Cham nodded, immediately getting to work. Meanwhile, Jonan approached Enric.

"I'll take the right side of the camp, and you check the left?" Jonan suggested.

But Enric shook his head. His usual easygoing expression was replaced with something more serious. "Not this time," he said firmly. "We patrol together. This area is dangerous at night."

His gaze swept over the dark forest, his hand resting instinctively on his weapon.

"Come on. Stay close and follow me."

As they patrolled the dark forest, Jonan took in his surroundings. Towering trees stretched high above, their dense branches weaving together to form a near-impenetrable canopy. The sky was hidden from view, and the forest was cloaked in deep darkness.

But darkness no longer bothered Jonan. He had learned to navigate through it since childhood—ever since those days in House Westrian's estate, when his father had thrown him into the dungeon. Back then, he had been forced to survive alone in the pitch black.

Now, instead of fearing the dark, he drew strength from it.

He could see better than most.

Suddenly, Enric's voice cut through the silence—a low but firm whisper.

"Jonan, don't move."

Jonan froze. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "What is it? Did you spot something?"

Enric's eyes were locked onto something in the distance. "It's an ambush," he murmured. "Look to your left—three men, swords drawn. Their blades glint in the moonlight. To your right, two more. I'd bet at those are archers."

Jonan's muscles tensed.

"Don't attack until I give the signal," Enric instructed, his voice sharp and controlled.

Jonan gave a small nod, his hand slowly reaching for his weapon.

They had walked straight into a trap.

Jonan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He focused, trying to feel his surroundings rather than just see them.

The cool night breeze brushed against his skin.The rustling of the leaves whispered through the trees.And then—he felt them.

The footsteps of the bandits.

He could hear their hushed whispers carried by the wind.

"Be ready. They're about to step into the trap."

The moment Jonan heard that, he reacted instinctively.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Enric's back and yanked him backward.

Enric, caught off guard, stumbled slightly. "Jonan—what the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "They'll realize we know—"

His face was tense, brown eyes narrowed in frustration. The vein on his forehead bulged as he clenched his jaw.

Jonan remained calm.

"There's a trap ahead of us," he whispered. "Let's just back off. If they haven't attacked yet, it means they're still hesitant. If we make it back to Tim and Cham-Cham, we can turn this into a fair fight."

His expression was unreadable, but his determination was clear.

His green eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, piercing and sharp.

His hand was already on his sword's hilt.

He wasn't afraid.

He was ready.

Enric nodded, and both he and Jonan turned around, carefully making their way back toward the camp.

But before they could take another step—

Thwip!

An arrow whistled through the air, barely missing Enric's leg by inches.

Jonan's grip on his sword tightened.

A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping directly into their path.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the bandit sneered. He was a tall man with a scarred face and a smug, predatory grin. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he sized them up, noting their well-maintained gear.

"Two guys with some real nice equipment on them… I'm guessing your camp's got even better supplies, huh?"

His sword was already drawn.

"Go ahead," he continued, his voice dripping with mockery. "Drop your weapons, and I might just spare your lives. What do you say?"

His smirk widened, eyes locked onto them like a predator toying with its prey.

Enric and Jonan exchanged a glance.

They both nodded.

Enric took a step forward, calm and composed, his expression unreadable.

"If I may," he said smoothly, "what do we call you, good sir? Maybe there's another way to settle this?"

His voice was steady—confident—as he inched ever so slightly closer to the bandit.

Meanwhile, behind him, Jonan was already preparing something very special.

"Hmm… another way, you say?" the bandit mused, pretending to consider it. Then, his smirk returned. "No. Everything you have—I can take by force. And don't think I don't notice what you're trying to do. Distracting me while inching into striking range?"

His hand shot up, signaling to his hidden men.

Thwip!

Another arrow whizzed through the air, this time striking Enric's right leg.

"Argh—!" Enric gritted his teeth, a sharp pain shooting through his limb as he stumbled to the ground. Blood seeped through the wound, staining the dirt beneath him.

Yet, even as he clutched his leg, he kept talking, his voice still carrying its usual charm.

"Mr. Bandit," he rasped, "why are we doing this? There's no need for us to hurt each other. Look, I'll even make it easy for you."

And with that, he tossed his sword onto the ground.

The bandit let out a victorious chuckle. "Now that's more like—"

A monstrous roar erupted through the forest.

The ground seemed to tremble from the sheer force of the sound.

The bandit's face twisted in confusion and mild panic.

Jonan had finished preparing the Vigred Powder.

A potent mix of salt, sugar, pepper, and Kision—a rare substance discovered after the apocalypse.

And now, it was ready.

Jonan threw the powder directly at the bandit's face.

A blinding burst of white dust exploded into the air.

The bandit screamed, clutching at his face as his eyes burned, his throat closing up from the intense reaction.

Jonan didn't wait.

"Enric, run! NOW!" he shouted.

Jonan could hear it—the monstrous creature approaching behind them.

And then came the screams.

Horrific, agonizing screams that echoed through the dark forest.

Enric, struggling to move, barely able to run, turned to Jonan with a mix of shock and confusion. "What… what was in that powder?! And that thing—did you bring it here on purpose?!"

His face was pale, his brown eyes wide with disbelief.

Jonan nodded. "Yeah, that was me. That powder is special—it attracts a monster called a Krizface."

Krizface – The Apex Predator of the Forest

A three-meter-tall beast, weighing 230 kilograms. It had the body of a monstrous ape, but with six limbs—four powerful arms, two on each side, and two thick legs.

Its entire body was covered in iron-like fur, tough enough to withstand blades, except for its face, which was nothing but a hollow, featureless void.

Its fur was black and green, blending seamlessly into the forest.

And it was hungry.

Jonan was about to explain more, but the screams interrupted him.

They were worse this time.

Like someone was being ripped apart—alive.

Enric's breathing was ragged. "They were five men. Even if one of them was blinded, this shouldn't have been this bad. What is that monster, Jonan?!"

His voice was tense—panicked.

Jonan kept his voice steady.

"It's the apex predator of this forest," he explained. "It's fast, it's strong, and it's perfectly camouflaged in the trees. But it has horrible hearing, and it's completely blind."

Jonan extended his shoulder toward Enric, offering support.

"As long as we stay quiet, we can escape. Lean on me."

Enric hesitated, then let out a breath and nodded. "Thanks… I guess thanks to this, we managed to escape them… but the real question is—"

His eyes darted back toward the source of the screams.

"—can we escape that?"