Life in Ravenwood slowly returned to something close to normal.
Or at least, what passed as normal in a small village sitting beside a monster-filled forest.
Every morning I woke up in Robert's stable, surrounded by the smell of hay and horses. The sound of villagers starting their daily work usually woke me before the sun fully rose.
Sometimes I helped Robert carry supplies.
Sometimes I went hunting small animals in the nearby forest.
Other times I simply helped repair fences or chop firewood.
It wasn't exciting.
But after everything that happened in the capital… the quiet life felt strangely comforting.
At least nobody here looked at me like I was a criminal.
One afternoon, while I was stacking firewood beside the stable, I heard loud voices near the village entrance.
Not the voices of farmers.
These sounded… familiar.
Robert looked up from the bucket he was carrying.
"You hear that?"
I nodded.
"Yeah."
The two of us walked toward the village gate.
A small group of adventurers stood there talking to several villagers.
The moment I saw them, I froze.
Torren noticed me first.
He squinted for a moment.
Then a wide grin spread across his face.
"Well, look at that."
He crossed his arms.
"The forest rat survived."
I walked closer.
"You sound disappointed."
Torren laughed loudly.
"Damn right I am."
He pointed at Hector.
"I bet ten silver coins you'd die within a week."
Hector chuckled.
"You always bet on the wrong things."
Lena stepped forward and gave a small wave.
"Good to see you're still alive."
"You too," I replied.
Then Rogan stepped forward.
The leader of the Rank C party studied me carefully.
For a few seconds he didn't say anything.
Then he nodded slowly.
"You recovered."
"Barely."
Torren smirked.
"You look less like a corpse than last time."
Robert snorted beside me.
"Someone had to keep this idiot alive."
Torren looked toward him.
"And you are?"
Robert crossed his arms.
"Someone who dragged this kid out of the forest before you people nearly got him killed."
Torren raised his hands slightly.
"Hey, hey. That wasn't us."
Hector laughed.
"Technically true."
Rogan ignored their banter and looked back at me.
"What are your plans now?"
I shrugged.
"Survive."
Torren rolled his eyes.
"That's not a plan."
"It's worked so far."
Hector leaned against the wooden fence.
"We're heading north tomorrow."
"Back to Grendhal."
Hearing the name of the city made my chest tighten slightly.
Rogan continued.
"We finished our hunting contracts."
"And the guild wants a full report."
Torren smirked.
"And we want real food."
Robert suddenly spoke up.
"You should go with them."
I looked at him.
"That was quick."
Robert shrugged.
"You can't stay in this village forever."
He pointed toward the forest.
"Eventually you'll have to face the world again."
Torren chuckled.
"Old man is right."
Hector added casually,
"The city isn't as dangerous as the forest."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I have doubts about that."
Rogan folded his arms.
"If you travel with us, you'll reach Grendhal safely."
Then he added calmly,
"And you can leave whenever you want."
Robert looked at me.
"Go."
I hesitated.
Then sighed.
"...Alright."
Robert nodded.
"Good."
He turned away for a moment, then looked back again.
"If you reach the city…"
His voice softened slightly.
"Look for my son."
I remembered him mentioning that before.
"He works there?"
Robert nodded.
"At a tavern near the adventurer district."
I looked at him.
"What's his name?"
"Daniel."
Robert scratched his beard.
"Daniel Hart."
"If you see him… tell him his old man is still alive."
Torren smirked.
"You talk like he's dead."
Robert glared at him.
"I talk like he's a useless son who forgot to write letters."
Hector laughed loudly.
"I like this old guy."
The next morning we left Ravenwood.
Traveling with Rogan's party felt much easier than wandering the forest alone.
They moved quickly but carefully.
Torren walked ahead most of the time, scouting the path.
Hector occasionally stopped to check tracks.
Lena complained whenever someone made her carry something heavy.
After two days of travel, the massive walls of Grendhal appeared in the distance.
Even from far away, the city looked huge.
Stone walls towered above the surrounding land.
Guard towers stood at regular intervals.
Torren whistled.
"Home sweet home."
Hector stretched his arms.
"I missed this place."
"I didn't," Lena muttered.
We passed through the city gate along with dozens of merchants and travelers.
The noise inside hit me immediately.
People shouting.
Metal clanging.
Horses moving through the crowded streets.
It felt like an entirely different world compared to Ravenwood.
Rogan led us through several narrow streets until we stopped in front of a tavern.
The wooden sign above the door read:
The Rusted Wolf.
Torren pushed the door open.
"Finally."
Inside, the tavern was busy.
Adventurers sat around wooden tables drinking and laughing loudly.
Behind the counter stood a young man wiping mugs.
He had short brown hair and tired-looking eyes.
Rogan sat at the counter.
"Four drinks."
The bartender nodded.
"Coming right up."
Then his eyes shifted toward me.
He frowned slightly.
"You're not from around here."
I stepped closer.
"Are you Daniel?"
The man blinked.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
I smiled faintly.
"I came from Ravenwood."
The mug in his hand slipped and hit the counter with a loud sound.
"Ravenwood?"
He stared at me.
"Wait…"
His voice dropped slightly.
"...Robert?"
I nodded.
"Your father."
Daniel leaned against the counter.
"For real?"
"Yeah."
"He asked me to say hello."
Daniel laughed softly.
"That stubborn old man is still alive?"
"Complaining every day."
Daniel shook his head.
"I thought he'd drink himself to death years ago."
Torren chuckled behind me.
"He sounds like a legend."
Daniel poured the drinks and slid them across the counter.
"So how do you know him?"
"He saved my life."
Daniel looked at me carefully.
"Yeah?"
"Dragged me out of the forest when I was half dead."
Daniel scratched his head.
"That sounds like something he'd do."
We talked for a few more minutes.
Mostly about the village.
About Robert.
About life near the forest.
But while we were talking…
I noticed something.
Across the tavern, several armored adventurers sat at a table.
Their armor looked expensive.
Their weapons polished.
One of them leaned back slightly in his chair.
His eyes narrowed as he stared in my direction.
Then he whispered something to the man beside him.
The second man looked toward me.
His expression changed immediately.
"...Impossible."
Another adventurer leaned forward.
"What is it?"
The first man spoke quietly.
"That boy."
He pointed subtly in my direction.
"He died."
The others turned to look.
And the moment their eyes met mine…
I felt my stomach drop.
Because I recognized them too.
The party that abandoned me in the forest.
And the look in their leader's eyes wasn't surprise.
It was something colder.
Something calculating.
Like a hunter spotting prey that had somehow escaped the trap.