36. Second Trial

Lana

The figure stood motionless under the hanging lamp's glow, seemingly unaffected by the silence of the night.

Tall. Thin. Its back was straight but wrong—unnatural, unlike how a living creature would stand. Its face was hidden behind an old wooden mask, crudely carved, as if sculpted by hands unfamiliar with mercy.

I stepped back half a pace.

"No… way," I whispered.

I knew that posture. That cold, silent energy trailing behind like black mist. A presence so familiar, one that had almost killed me before.

The Shadow Butcher.

I remained frozen, staring in disbelief.

Its head tilted slightly. Slowly. And then came its voice—low and whispery, like a knife slicing through bone.

"Human… found you."

Cold sweat broke over my skin.

A terrifying grin—whether from intent or the mask's shape—was carved into that wooden face.

And then it vanished.