Chapter 20: The Forest Hunt

Clank. Clench. Screech.

The sounds of battle echoed through the dark forest.

A lone figure moved like a shadow between the trees—his katana gleaming under faint moonlight, his breaths sharp and labored. Around him, the ground was littered with corpses—Mad Rabbits, torn and bloodied. But five more remained, circling him with terrifying speed.

One lunged from behind.

Kael sidestepped swiftly and swung, but before he could finish the slash, another rabbit came from the side. He had no time. Dropping his blade mid-motion, he raised his arm. The rabbit's claws scraped against his armor with a high-pitched screech, stopped cold.

Without hesitation, Kael grabbed it by the throat and slammed it into the ground. The beast squealed in pain.

Another attacked.

Kael dropped to a knee just in time. The rabbit flew over him—he drove his sword upward into its chest, piercing its heart cleanly. It twitched, then went limp.

He hurled the corpse aside.

Another rushed him.

Kael spun and slashed—clean and brutal.

"Three left," he muttered, eyes narrowing.

The remaining rabbits had gone fully feral, screeching in rage. Senseless, savage. All three pounced at once.

Kael gritted his teeth and swung in a wide arc, katana tracing death through the air.

Slash. Slash. Slash.

Three corpses hit the dirt, unmoving.

Silence fell over the forest.

Kael stood, panting heavily. His armor was soaked in blood—but none of it was his. He looked around at the scene. More than thirty Mad Rabbits lay dead, their bodies twisted, blood pooling into the mossy earth.

He started laughing.

A low chuckle at first—then it grew. Hahahaha... hahahaHAHAHA!

He didn't know why he was laughing. It wasn't funny. It wasn't sane.

But he didn't stop himself.

He felt alive. His blood was singing, his body aching, his hands trembling from exhaustion—but inside, he felt… ecstatic. He wanted to fight more. He wanted to feel it again—that rush, that thrill, that violent purpose.

But he stopped himself.

He wasn't injured, but he was tired. Too tired. If a stronger monster showed up now, he'd die. Simple as that.

So he turned around.

None of the corpses had mana cores. And there were too many to burn—the fire would spread too fast. He left them as they were, knowing the smell of blood would attract scavengers. Let the forest clean up after him.

He vanished into the trees, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night.

I returned to my room in silence, the sound of the door closing barely a whisper in the quiet night.

My armor was soaked in blood—not mine, but still warm and sticky. Scratches ran along the chest plate and shoulder guards, clear signs of the hell I had walked through.

I unstrapped each piece carefully, grimacing as the metal groaned. This armor… I hadn't used it before. It wasn't part of my official training gear. If Liana found out, she'd start asking questions. And if she knew I was venturing into the forest like this, she'd try to stop me.

I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't back down. Not when it came to my safety.

So I wiped the blood clean, folded the armor into an old cloth, and hid it beneath the bed. Out of sight. For now.

Then I dragged myself to the washbasin, splashed water on my face, and scrubbed the dirt and dried blood from my hands. My body was aching. My limbs heavy. But it wasn't pain that lingered—it was something else.

Satisfaction.

I collapsed onto the bed, letting the exhaustion pull me under.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since I started hunting for the source of the fortress's destruction.

And still, nothing.

I'd searched every corner I could reach. No signs. No strange mana flow. No hidden dungeons. Just endless trees and silence. But I knew I was close. I had to be.

My mind drifted back to today's battle.

Mad Rabbits. E-rank beasts. Vicious. Territorial. They attacked in swarms, their fury doubling once injured. But I had grown used to them. I fought them daily now. Thirty in one fight today.

And I didn't feel fear. Not even once.

I felt alive.

The rhythm of battle. The clash of steel. The scent of blood and the thrill of death brushing past—it was intoxicating.

I never imagined I'd become someone like this. A battle junkie. But maybe that's what this world needed me to be.

And those monsters… they were perfect. Real. Unforgiving. A thousand times more valuable than swinging a sword in a courtyard.

But I needed more.

I had to go deeper. Face stronger foes. Push the limits.

Their leader… There had to be one. A beast strong enough to command the pack. If I defeated it, I'd know where I stood.

Tomorrow… I would enter the heart of their territory.

Once again, I was sparring with Daren.

This time, I wasn't losing.

We'd been going at it for over twenty minutes now—twice the time I used to last against him. Normally, he would overwhelm me within ten. But today, no matter what kind of tricks he used—feints, footwork, or misdirection—I countered all of them. I saw through every move.

It wasn't magic.

It was experience.

Fighting mad rabbits with my life on the line… it had changed something inside me. One life-or-death battle teaches more than a year of solo training. My instincts were sharper. My body moved before my mind could even process the danger. I wasn't thinking. I was reacting.

Daren slashed his wooden sword in a wide arc.

"You've changed, Kael," he said, breathless.

I parried cleanly, stepping in and thrusting toward his shoulder. He leaned just slightly to the side—enough to make my strike miss by the width of a breath. He crouched and swept low, his sword aiming for my gut.

I jumped back in time.

Daren steadied himself and raised his blade again.

"How?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "It's like you're a different person."

I frowned. "How so?"

"Your eyes," he said. "They've changed. You don't look like someone who's sheltered anymore. There's a… spark in them now."

I blinked, confused.

He continued, "Before, you used to hesitate. Every time you swung your sword, it was like you were afraid to hurt your opponent. Now… that fear is gone. You fight like a warrior."

I glanced at my hands, still holding the wooden blade.

He was right.

I wasn't scared of swinging anymore.

Something in me had changed.

The madness, the blood, the nightly battles against those beasts—it was working. It was shaping me into something else.

"But how?" Daren muttered. "I don't get it. No one changes this fast. It took me months to kill that hesitation in my sword… and even then, I still feel it sometimes."

He looked me straight in the eye.

"There's no way a few weeks did this to you. We don't even get to kill beasts during training. So how…?"

"I don't know," I said quickly, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe I'm special."

I couldn't tell him the truth.

Couldn't tell him that every night, I left the fortress behind. That I hunted and killed monsters alone in the forest. That the stench of blood and steel had become my lullaby.

Before he could press further, two voices called out.

"Yo! What are you two whispering about?"

John and Nicholas approached from behind, sweat glistening on their foreheads. Nicholas grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

"You look serious," he teased. "Plotting something without us?"

Daren told them what we were talking about.

Nicholas nodded. "Yeah, I was surprised today too. For the past week, you've been changing… fast. It's not normal. Even I took my time, and honestly—so did everyone else. But you… you're different."

I just smiled, saying nothing.

Then John squinted at me. "Don't tell me… you're sneaking out of the fortress every night to hunt monsters in the Dark Forest."

I froze and looked at him.

How the hell did he guess that?

Wasn't he supposed to be the dumb one?

"Nah, never mind. You wouldn't dare," John scoffed. "Only an idiot would go out there alone. And someone that stupid wouldn't survive long enough to get back."

"…Did he just call me stupid?" I muttered under my breath.

Nicholas leaned in. "Then tell us—what's your secret?"

"There's no secret," I said casually. "I'm just… special."

"Yeah, yeah. Narcissistic pretty boy," John rolled his eyes.

I grinned. "Oh? I smell something… could it be jealousy? I get it. I'm just that handsome. Ugly people hate that."

Daren and Nicholas burst out laughing.

John frowned. "It's not handsome, it's pretty. You look like a girl."

Daren joined in. "Well… Kael was pretty before. But now with those muscles and that sharper face? He's actually looking handsome now."

He wasn't wrong. I had been filling out—muscles from training, a bit of edge in my features. I was starting to look more like a warrior than a noble's fragile son.

John muttered, "Not everyone's lucky enough to have the good genes of a ruling family…"

The laughter died.

Daren and Nicholas looked at him, serious.

Even John realized what he just said. His eyes widened slightly.

He knew. He knew I was exiled. And until now, no one had dared to bring it up.

He stumbled on his words. "Hey, man—I didn't mean it like that. I was just—"

"It's okay," I interrupted with a forced smile. "You're right. I should really thank my parents for my face."

I pressed my hands together like I was praying. Daren and Nicholas cracked up again.

I smiled too.

But deep inside, something twisted in my chest.

The moment he mentioned my family… my heart beat faster. My throat felt tight.

Kael's emotions—this body's emotions—they hadn't forgotten.

The betrayal, the pain, the humiliation.

But that wasn't my problem.

As long as they stayed out of my life, I'd stay out of theirs.

And live my life seperately with my own terms.