Tension

Michael had initially assumed that the two-day journey to the Sombra region would be beyond boring. However, Sarah proved extremely resourceful in keeping him occupied. He had spent nearly every waking moment training under her relentless instruction, leaving him little time to dwell on the monotony of travel. Though exhausting, the intense focus made the time pass quickly, and before he knew it, they had arrived at their destination—a vast and foreboding forest.

The terrain here was relatively flatter than the lands surrounding Edenbrau and the imperial palace, but the forest was far denser and carried an unsettling uniqueness. The trees that dominated the Sombra region were mostly Carnis—a species resembling oak trees, yet distinct in a way that set them apart. Their leaves were a deep, bloody red colour, metallic to the touch, and razor-sharp at the edges to the point one might be left with a cut if careless. Because of this, the locals referred to the area as the Crimson Forest of Sombra. Even in autumn, these trees did not wither, their ever-present foliage swallowing what little moonlight managed to pierce through the canopy, painting the landscape in a dreadful shade of red.

Their convoy halted at what was deemed the safest location to set up camp—though safe was a relative term in a place like this.

Michael stepped down from his carriage and took in the scene before him. The knights and servants moved with precision, erecting tents and organizing supplies with well-practiced efficiency. Several torches had been lit, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the red leaves above. A handful of knights had already begun setting up perimeter defenses—wooden stakes were driven into the ground and a rotating watch stationed at key vantage points. Despite the precautions, there was an undeniable sense of unease in the air.

Even the horses, normally well-trained and disciplined, shifted restlessly in their harnesses, their ears twitching at unseen disturbances. Occasionally, one would let out a nervous snort, eyes darting toward the darkness beyond the torchlight.

Michael felt it too—that oppressive weight in the air, as if something unseen lurked just beyond the edge of perception.

He exhaled sharply.

"This place will give me nightmares…" He muttered. "And they still want to gather and discuss 'strategy' like that can't be done in the morning" He muttered under his breath, trudging toward the main tent.

"Did you say something?"

Michael stiffened. Sarah had turned her head, one brow arched in mild confusion.

"Nothing!" He blurted out, suddenly realizing he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

Sarah narrowed her eyes but let it slide with a small shake of her head. "Is that so…" Her skepticism was obvious, but she didn't press further.

"Anyway" She continued. "Let's get inside. We're probably the last ones to arrive" Without waiting for a response, she pulled aside the cloth covering the tent's entrance and stepped in.

Michael hesitated for a second before following, bracing himself for whatever was about to unfold.

The tent was large, designed for military command, its spacious interior dimly illuminated by flickering lanterns. The first thing Michael noticed was the massive wooden table occupying the center, its surface nearly buried beneath the map of the region. Several locations were marked in red—danger zones or targets, he guessed. His gaze however quickly shifted from the map to the figures surrounding it.

Roman stood with his arms crossed, his ever-composed expression unreadable. Helga, on the other hand, loomed near the table, her sheer size forcing her to tilt her head slightly to avoid brushing against the tent's ceiling. Despite their presence, neither of them had taken command. That role was reserved for the Grandmasters.

Just as Michael had been assigned Sarah as his mentor and protector, the other heroes had their own guides. Helga's teacher, Elijah, was an Archmage following the path of a wizard, his long robes barely shifted as he examined the map with his sharp and calculating eyes. Roman's mentor, Chris, was a Grandmaster in the path of the spear. He was standing beside Elijah with an air of quiet authority.

As Sarah silently moved to stand beside the other Grandmasters, Michael chose a different approach. Rather than joining the crowd, he casually leaned against one of the wooden support poles near the entrance, watching the unfolding discussion from a comfortable distance.

"Seems like everyone who needs to be here is present" Elijah said, straightening away from the map. His gaze swept over the room, cold and indifferent, before he continued. "As you all know, we are here due to the rising activity of monsters in this forest. The situation is worsening—more and more of them are migrating from the eastern part of the region to the west. If this pattern continues, it's only a matter of time before they begin threatening the surrounding villages"

He gestured toward the map, first pointing at the blue-marked location of their camp before tracing his finger toward the red-marked zones. "These areas are where reported monster gatherings have been sighted—north-east of our current position…"

Michael listened closely, surprised by the level of detail in Elijah's briefing. Until now, he had subconsciously assumed this mission was hastily arranged, just another way to train the newly summoned heroes. But with every word Elijah spoke, it became increasingly clear—this wasn't just some glorified exercise. This was a real military operation, planned well in advance.

"…That covers the general situation" Elijah finished. "Questions?"

Silence followed. No one spoke—his explanation had been terrifyingly thorough, leaving little room for doubt.

"Then let's discuss monsters themselves" Sarah spoke up. "This forest is large and populated with an insurmountable amount of different species of monsters however considering the area and information we gathered we are most likely to encounter blood wolves, goblins and—"

"Tsk…"

Sarah was interrupted by the loud click of the tongue. Everyone turned their heads to look at the source—Roman.

"Do you have something to say?" Sarah questioned, clearly not happy.

Roman met Sarah's gaze with a look of thinly veiled disdain. His arms remained crossed, his expression unreadable, but the sharp exhale that followed carried enough weight to make his feelings clear.

"I simply find it amusing" He said, his voice calm yet laced with condescension. "That a woman presumes to lead a discussion of warfare among men"

A heavy silence fell over the tent.

Michael felt the shift in atmosphere immediately. Sarah, however, didn't so much as flinch. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, regarding Roman as if he were little more than a mild inconvenience.

"Oh?" She mused, her tone unsettlingly neutral. "And here I thought we were discussing monsters, not warfare"

Roman scoffed. "Strategy is a man's domain. There are roles meant for women—this isn't one of them"

Michael braced himself. He had seen Sarah annoyed before, even irritated. But this… this was different.

Sarah smiled.

It wasn't warm. It wasn't friendly. It was a blade wrapped in silk.

"Tell me, Roman" She said, stepping closer, her voice light as air. "When was the last time you fought a monster?"

A flicker of something—maybe anger, maybe restraint—crossed Roman's features. But before he could respond, Elijah cleared his throat, cutting through the rising tension.

"This is neither the time nor place for such discussions" He stated. "We are here to handle a crisis, not to argue about outdated traditions" His gaze flickered toward Roman, then to Sarah. "Continue"

Sarah held Roman's stare for a beat longer, then turned back to the table as if the interruption had never happened.

"Right" She said, resuming her explanation. "As I was saying, the most likely threats we will encounter are blood wolves, goblins, and—"

"Maybe he's right you know" Sarah was once again interrupted but this time by Chris who so far remained silent. He tilted his head and with a smirk on his face continued. "We are going to fight just some weak monsters, as long as they bleed I don't see a need to discuss them"

Sarah's expression didn't change, but Michael swore he could feel the temperature in the tent drop. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as every pair of eyes shifted between her and Chris.

Chris, unlike Roman, wore his arrogance with a smirk rather than a scowl. He leaned lazily against the table, his posture the very picture of indifference.

"Is that so?" Sarah finally said, her voice light—dangerously so. "Then tell me, Chris… How many blood wolves have you killed?"

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. "Dozens at least"

"Dozens?" Sarah repeated, almost sounding impressed. "Fascinating. And tell me—did you kill them alone? Or did you have men at your side?"

Chris's smirk wavered, but he recovered quickly. "I lead from the front. My men simply followed my example. I am a Grandmaster. Would you think I would struggle even if I had to face a hundred of them alone?"

"Ah, I see" Sarah mused, nodding as if she found his answer completely reasonable. "And when you fought these wolves, did you happen to notice their pack formation? Their hunting patterns? Did you learn how they communicate or how they stalk their prey?"

Chris scoffed. "What does it matter? They die like anything else"

Sarah sighed—a long, drawn-out exhale of sheer disappointment. "And that, Chris, is why I'm speaking, and you should be listening"

Michael nearly choked.

Roman, visibly irritated, stepped forward. "Mind your tone, woman"

Sarah turned to him, arching a single brow. "Or what?"

Roman opened his mouth, but Sarah didn't give him the chance.

"Perhaps you'll challenge me to a duel? I wonder, Roman, how much will your precious honor allow you to endure before your pride breaks? Better, what will break first your honor or your jaw?"

Roman's jaw tightened perhaps at the thought of it breaking. His fingers twitched, clearly itching to draw his sword, but he remained still in the end.

Chris, on the other hand, simply laughed. "You certainly have a sharp tongue, I'll give you that. But in the end, it's just words. The battlefield is where strength is measured, not here"

Sarah smiled. "Then let's measure it"

The tent went still.

Chris blinked. "…Excuse me?"

Sarah leaned against the table, mirroring his earlier stance. "If my words are just empty air, then surely you won't mind proving your strength? A simple duel. No weapons, no armor—just you and me"

Michael's stomach twisted. He wished he had some popcorn right now.

Chris looked caught between amusement and irritation. "This is ridiculous. You are a knight whereas I walk the path of the spear"

"Is it?" Sarah tilted her head. "You claim there's no need for strategy, no need for discussion. That the only thing that matters is whether something bleeds. Then let's test your philosophy. Let's see who bleeds first"

Silence.

Chris hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Michael to see it.

Sarah saw it too.

She laughed softly.

"So much for measuring strength"

Chris's smirk vanished. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to argue, but no words came out. Roman, who had been itching for a fight moments ago, remained tense, his eyes narrowing.

Elijah cleared his throat once more, louder this time. "Enough. We've wasted enough time. Sarah, finish your briefing"

Sarah didn't gloat. She didn't smirk. She simply turned back to the map, speaking as if the exchange had never happened.

Michael, on the other hand, nearly died. His entire body shook as he desperately fought the urge to laugh, his legs almost failing him. And for some strange reason, he also felt extremely vindicated. 

He did not know why though.