Night fell hard over the Blackwood Forest.
A few cold stars hung high above, their faint light swallowed by thick, shifting clouds. The wind howled through the trees, low and mournful, like whispers from the dead.
Tonight, something was wrong.
On the watchtower, Goff lay still as stone, wrapped in a mud-streaked hide that blended him perfectly into the darkness. His breathing was shallow, controlled. His senses stretched outward into the night.
Too quiet.
Not silence—but absence.
No insects. No owls. No small rustlings of life.
Only the wind.
The kind of quiet that meant something else had claimed the forest.
A predator.
Goff's muscles tightened.
Then—
A sound.
Faint. Almost nothing.
Not the tread of beasts. Not the clumsy steps of men.
It was lighter. Uneven. Careful.
Like something starving… and afraid.
His eyes shifted toward a cluster of bushes beyond the trench.
And there—
A shape.
Small. Thin. Half-hidden in shadow.
It barely rose above the ground, moving in hesitant bursts. It paused often, sniffing the air, as if measuring danger with every breath.
Not human.
Not beast.
Goff's expression darkened.
Without a sound, he slid down from the wall, moving with the silent precision of an old predator. Moments later, he reached Colin's door.
Instead of knocking, he scratched lightly—two short, one long.
The signal.
Highest alert.
The door opened at once.
Colin emerged from the darkness like a phantom. Bare-chested, every muscle coiled tight, ready to strike.
"Direction. Number."
"Northwest. One. Small. Not a soldier."
Colin nodded.
"Hold position."
And he vanished.
Goff blinked.
He hadn't even seen him move.
Only felt a faint shift in the air.
The old hunter's eyes narrowed.
He's getting stronger…
Outside the walls, Colin became something else entirely.
A creature of the night.
He slipped through a hidden gap, his body melting into shadow. Every step landed without sound.
It didn't take long to find the figure.
Colin crouched, watching.
A fox-like demi-human.
Short. Emaciated.
A large, dirty tail dragged behind him. His ears twitched constantly, catching every sound—but his movements were weak, unsteady.
He lay low to the ground, staring toward the outpost.
From this distance, Colin could already smell him.
Rot.
Sweat.
Starvation.
The creature wasn't hunting.
He was drawn by the scent of food.
Begging, without words.
Colin didn't reveal himself.
He moved.
Slowly. Silently.
Circling behind.
Cutting off escape.
The fox-man remained unaware. Hunger consumed his attention completely.
At last, he gathered his courage and began to crawl forward.
One step—
"Don't move."
The voice came from nowhere.
Cold. Close.
The fox-man froze.
His fur stood on end as he spun around.
Two faint green eyes stared at him from the dark.
Emotionless.
Dominant.
The gaze of something far above him in the food chain.
His mind went blank.
He screamed and tried to flee—
But something clamped around his neck.
An iron grip.
He was lifted effortlessly into the air.
His limbs flailed uselessly, small whimpers escaping his throat. Like prey caught by a hawk.
No escape.
No resistance.
Only fear.
Colin carried him back like a dead rabbit.
No bindings.
No struggle.
There was no need.
Inside the stone house, firelight flickered brighter.
The fox-man was dropped onto the ground.
He curled instantly into himself, wrapping his tail tightly around his body. Only his wide, terrified eyes peeked out.
Colin sat silently.
Goff stood beside him, blade in hand.
Lina hovered nearby, clutching a bowl of water.
"Give it to him," Colin said.
She hesitated—but obeyed.
The fox-man sniffed.
His throat moved.
But he didn't dare drink.
Goff stepped forward, voice rough in broken Common.
"Drink. Then speak. Who are you?"
The language struck the fox-man like a blow.
He trembled harder, panic flooding his face.
He dropped his head, kowtowing frantically.
"D-don't kill me! Please! I didn't mean to escape! I—I'm just hungry… please don't send me back… don't break my legs…"
His words tumbled out, incoherent.
Colin and Goff exchanged a glance.
Send him back?
Goff narrowed his eyes. "Back where?"
The fox-man's voice cracked.
"Count Raymond… North Mountain Mine… I—I escaped… three days… no food…"
The room went still.
North Mountain Mine.
They knew it.
A place of iron and chains.
A place where demi-humans—and criminals—were worked like beasts.
Heavily guarded.
Impossible to escape.
And yet—
This one had.
Colin leaned forward slightly.
"What's your name?"
"F-Fini…"
Goff crouched down, voice softening just a fraction.
"Fini. Tell us everything. Guards. Numbers. Anything unusual."
Fini hesitated.
His eyes flicked between them, filled with doubt.
These people—
They weren't human.
But they weren't like the overseers either.
Colin noticed.
Without a word, he pulled out a strip of dried horse meat and tossed it in front of him.
"It's yours."
Fini froze.
Then hunger won.
He snatched it, swallowing it whole without chewing, then grabbed the water and drank desperately.
Only after that did his breathing begin to steady.
Some of the fear faded.
Hope—fragile, uncertain—replaced it.
He looked at Colin again.
Different this time.
Not just fear.
Something else.
Trust… or desperation.
He took a shaky breath.
Then he began to speak.
And with every word—
The world outside their walls grew darker.
Colder.
More dangerous.
By the time he finished, the fire in the room felt like it had lost all warmth.
The truth he carried—
Was far worse than any of them had imagined.