Duskwood.
The carriage moved slowly along the road, surrounded by towering, twisted trees that almost completely blocked out the daylight.
Yes—daylight.
Even though it was clearly noon, the moment they crossed into the borders of Duskwood, it was as if a curtain had been drawn across the sky.
Heavy gray clouds hung low overhead. Occasionally, faint light seeped through gaps in the cloud cover, but instead of illuminating the surroundings, it only made the distorted shadows of the trees look even more eerie.
"Wow…" Stella leaned against the carriage window. "Why is it so dark? Is it magic?"
Allen, who was practicing horseback riding, also felt a quiet sense of awe. In the game, Duskwood always had a gloomy sky—but experiencing it in person made that oppressive atmosphere truly tangible.
Beside them, Varian rode his white horse, unhurriedly following alongside the carriage. He held a worn-out book in his hands, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter.
Last night, at a horse ranch in eastern Elwynn Forest, they had stayed with the ranch owner, the Hunter family.
When old Hunter heard that they were investigating the De Montmorency family massacre, he became unusually attentive.
Because their eldest son was none other than Miss Tilloa De Montmorency's lover.
The poor young man was still immersed in the pain of losing his beloved, unable to recover.
Allen made some indirect inquiries about Stalvan. The Hunter family recalled that Stalvan had stayed at their home for a few days. He had been polite and well-mannered, leaving a very good impression. He had even said he had a gift for young Hunter—but unfortunately, the boy had not been there that day.
Mrs. Hunter also remembered something: when Stalvan left, he had forgotten a diary at their house. Out of respect for their guest's privacy, they had never opened it.
Allen couldn't bring himself to let the Hunter family learn what that "polite gentleman" had actually done. He simply asked for the diary and took it.
At this moment, Varian was flipping through Stalvan's diary. His expression was growing darker and darker.
[…Strange. Uncontrollable. Today, I felt something I have never experienced before. While I was tutoring Giles in history, Tilloa was outside tending to her garden. After a while, she came in, placed a bright red begonia in my palm, and smiled sweetly at me. My heart began to pound violently…]
[…I am certain—she feels the same way. This morning, she even placed her hand in mine. When she smiles, her eyes shine like diamonds. We communicate without words. She has taken over my heart—she makes my blood boil throughout my entire body.]
[…I never imagined I could feel such anger! How dare she treat me like this! When I was teaching Giles mathematics, Tilloa came—bringing one of her suitors with her. They were openly holding hands! What an ill-mannered young man. And Tilloa barely introduced me—she just casually said, 'Oh, this is my tutor, Stalvan. He's a nice old man.' Old man! The moment I heard those words, my face flushed red. I am only a few years older than her—and yet she has betrayed me…]
[…My heart feels as though it has fallen into a bottomless abyss of despair. She deceived my feelings, and now she is even engaged. This hateful liar. My heart is filled with nothing but darkness, and with each passing minute, that feeling grows stronger. I will make her pay in blood—even though compared to the tears I have shed, that would be so utterly insignificant…]
Snap!
Varian slammed the diary shut, furious. "That bastard!"
Stella poked her blue-haired head out of the carriage window and asked curiously, "Did you finish reading it? Can I read it now?!"
Allen reached out and pushed her head back inside. "Kids shouldn't read that."
"I'm not a kid!" Stella protested, her voice muffled from inside the carriage. "I just look small!"
Allen ignored her complaints and urged his horse closer to Varian.
Varian raised his head and looked at him, his gaze resolute.
"No matter what," he said word by word, "I will never let that bastard go."
"I completely agree." Allen nodded.
At that moment, as Stella's head withdrew, Wren's head popped out instead.
"From the forest on the right," Wren said, listening carefully, her eyes sharp, "I hear the sound of fighting."
Allen's spirits lifted. "Oh? Let's go take a look."
He tugged on the reins and turned his horse around. With 12 Strength, 11 Constitution, and 11 Dexterity, he was already above average among ordinary people, and his riding had become increasingly proficient.
The coachman stopped the carriage as instructed.
Allen and Varian dismounted. Wren climbed straight out through the carriage window, while Stella hugged her bulging engineering backpack and clumsily tumbled down after them.
Varian drew his sword. Wren raised her light bow. Allen gripped the short sword he had brought from Goldshire.
The four of them pushed through the bushes and walked several dozen steps deeper into the forest.
Suddenly, a low roar echoed ahead, mixed with the sharp clang of metal striking metal.
Through the interwoven tree trunks, they saw a clearing.
In the clearing, a young man clad in silver plate armor was locked in battle with a giant wolf.
The wolf was enormous.
It was even taller than a grown man. Its silver-gray fur stood upright like steel needles, and its eyes glowed with an eerie crimson light.
When it swung its claws, dark purple energy wrapped around them, forming shadowy slashes that howled as they tore toward its opponent.
The young man raised a shield bearing the emblem of the Holy Light, barely managing to block one of the shadow slashes.
Boom!
The shadow energy exploded against the shield, scattering black sparks. He staggered backward, but his longsword shot forward in response, carving a wound into the wolf's foreleg.
The giant wolf howled in pain, letting out an even more ferocious roar.
Everyone exchanged glances.
"…Isn't this…" Allen muttered.
Stella had already taken out the bounty poster.
She unfolded the parchment, looked at the "cute little dog" drawn on it, then lifted her head to look at the massive beast in the clearing—its eyes glowing red, its claws wrapped in shadow, lunging wildly.
She lowered her head, looked at the drawing again.
Then raised her head to look at the wolf.
She repeated this three or four times.
Finally, tilting her head, she asked the wolf with utmost seriousness: "Is this you?"
Of course, the wolf didn't answer. It was busy dodging a horizontal slash from the paladin before countering with another shadow strike.
Wren's lips twitched. She lowered her bow and looked at Allen. "Are we helping?"
Allen glanced at the paladin, who was clearly at a disadvantage.
"Yeah." Allen drew his short sword. "That's one gold coin."
Varian had already tightened his grip on his sword. Hearing that, he laughed. "I knew it."
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