Morouen felt a growing sense of unease.
Three days earlier, Skog had approached him with a shocking claim. Skog said he intended to betray his original organization and pledge loyalty to another powerful faction. According to him, he had uncovered the truth of the world. Everything about the Royal Government was a lie. Even Grisha, though not aligned with the Royal Government, was still a schemer. Skog insisted that only this mysterious faction represented true justice and enlightenment.
He tried to convince Morouen to join him.
As proof of loyalty, Skog planned to assassinate an important member of their former organization.
To be honest, Morouen barely understood what Skog was talking about. The man had spoken with a strange intensity, his eyes filled with fanatic belief and agitation. It made Morouen uneasy.
Still, the two of them had fought side by side for years.
For the sake of that brotherhood, Morouen agreed to help him. At the very least, he intended to pull Skog out if things went wrong.
Over the past few days, Morouen watched events unfold with increasing concern.
Skog hired local criminals, the kind of gutter rats who lurked in dark alleys, to attack his former superior, Mr. Ackerman, along with his family.
At the same time, Skog manipulated six members of the Military Police into escorting him and Morouen to Utost District, claiming they would meet representatives of this so called Great Faction.
Any one of these crimes was enough to earn a public hanging.
Morouen scanned the forest around them, forcing himself to suppress the unease gnawing at his mind.
The Military Police officers with them were not ordinary soldiers. Each had graduated within the top ten of their respective Training Corps. They represented the elite among the new generation.
As for Morouen and Skog, they had once been among the Survey Corps' finest, veterans who had killed countless Titans.
With a group like this, Morouen could not imagine what kind of enemy would dare challenge them.
Then it happened.
Whoosh!
An arrow shot out from the darkness and struck the ground between the three Military Police walking at the front of the formation.
Morouen's eyes immediately locked onto it.
Two strange cards were attached to the shaft.
For a split second, confusion flashed across his mind.
Then instinct took over.
"Enemy attack!"
Boom!
A violent explosion erupted from the arrow. Flames and shockwaves burst outward, instantly engulfing the three soldiers at the front.
The blast hurled Morouen off his feet.
He hit the ground hard but rolled with the momentum, absorbing the force. His right hand reached into his satchel and pulled out a hand crossbow while his left hand pressed against the ground to steady himself.
Something warm and soft touched his palm.
Morouen glanced down.
It was a severed hand.
"Ah!"
A terrified scream from one of the Military Police behind him snapped Morouen back to reality.
"Damn it!"
He raised the hand crossbow and fired a bolt toward the direction of the scream. The shot disappeared into the darkness without any response.
Morouen gritted his teeth as he quickly prepared another bolt, scanning the forest for the hidden attacker.
"What is happening? What just happened?"
Skog looked stunned, though years of battlefield experience pushed him to react quickly. He drew the short blade from his waist and pressed his back against a large tree, adopting a defensive stance.
Whoosh!
Another arrow flew from the darkness, targeting one of the remaining Military Police officers.
The soldier tilted his head and narrowly dodged the shot.
Yet the arrow suddenly curved in mid air and struck the man beside him, piercing straight through his skull.
"This... how is that possible?"
Morouen's eyes widened in disbelief.
He was certain of what he saw. The arrow had changed direction in flight. That was not the result of ordinary skill.
"It's a demon!"
The last Military Police officer panicked. He raised his rifle with shaking hands and aimed toward the direction where the earlier arrow had come from.
"Die!"
Bang!
The gunshot echoed through the forest.
At the same moment, another arrow flew from a completely different direction and pierced through his throat.
"Gurgle..."
The soldier collapsed to the ground, clutching his neck as blood poured through his fingers.
Morouen quickly grabbed another crossbow bolt. Just as he prepared to reload, a sudden chill ran down his spine.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Without hesitation, he abandoned the crossbow, drew the short sword from his waist, and swung backward to block the incoming strike.
Clang!
Steel collided with steel in the darkness.