After another half a day, just before sunset, the three arrived at the entrance to the village of Crucea Veche. The air smelled of smoke and fear, and the villagers, their faces lined by hardship, watched them with wide, suspicious eyes.
Ioh, his black cloak fluttering slightly in the wind, whispered to the twins in his arms, like a father trying to calm his children:
— "Don't be afraid… their gazes hide only fear…"
Suddenly, from the gathered crowd, stepped forward a man with a tangled beard, a harsh look, and arms thick as logs:
— "Quick! Quick, hide the infants indoors, stranger! The beasts come out to hunt when night falls!"
Without hesitation, Ioh crossed the narrow alleys, found an abandoned stable and laid Luc and Nicolai there, wrapped tightly. From his cloak, he drew a small round, blue seed, a gift from his old friend, the alchemist Magnus Martin, and buried it in the earth beside them. The seed began to pulse faintly, like the heartbeat of something that watched over the little ones' sleep.
The twins began to cry, sensing the parting. Ioh, in a grave yet calm voice:
— "Don't be afraid… I will return. Your guardian won't leave you alone."
He left behind the warm breath of the infants and stepped out into the night. The wind's howl carried the scent of dust and unease, and the branches of the trees swayed, like ancient arms whispering old curses.
In the distance, the forest began to groan under heavy steps. Muffled howls echoed, drawing closer with each heartbeat. Ioh took out his old bone whistle, raised it to his lips, and began to play. The sound was faint, barely perceptible to the human ear, but for werewolves it was like a knife stabbing the eardrum – a signal they despised from the depths of their being.
And the answer did not delay. From the forest shadows, a long, piercing howl shook the air, and a pack of werewolves stepped into the moon's pale light. At their head walked an imposing monster, with gray fur, yellow fangs, and eyes burning with a hatred almost human.
With a wide grin, the beast spoke:
— "I know who you are… You're the monk Ioh. Tell me, why have you come to this village?"
Ioh raised his chin, and his voice, harsh as iron beaten on an anvil, was heard clearly:
— "What's the point of telling you? You'll die anyway."
The werewolf snorted, and his coarse laughter seemed to shake the ground:
— "Sharp tongue you have, monk… I'll put your head on the village gate! I know you hide the Grimm infants…"
Ioh's gaze darkened:
— "Why do you want to kill mere infants?"
Silver Fang let his fangs gleam in the light:
— "They break the vow of the Four Chains. If they live… our world burns! And I came to quench the fire. The Order of the Bloody Moon is hunting the Grimm brothers. They can't escape us."
Ioh was surprised to hear of the Order of the Bloody Moon, and a thought crossed his mind: "...they're being hunted by this Order."
The hunter's gaze turned cold as steel. The werewolf sharpened his fangs with his tongue, and the pack behind him arched their backs, ready to attack. In their eyes there was only one hunger: death.
— "I am Silver Fang of the Valley Werewolves Pack! If you tell me where the infants are, maybe I'll give you an easy death." – the werewolf said with a defiant look.
Ioh shook his cloak, and his sword gleamed in the light:
— "Then come… and take my life."
The pack lunged, and the night was torn by screams, roars, and sparks. Ioh danced among them, his great sword drawing deadly circles. Every movement was precise: cutting arms, slicing ribs, throwing beasts to the ground with short, terrible blows.
One werewolf lunged, fangs open towards his throat. Ioh met it with his blade, slashed the creature's flesh and tossed it aside. Another came from the left, claws raised — but the hunter spun, struck with his elbow and slammed it into the mud, crushing its windpipe with his weight.
— "That's it, that's it… one by one, come as if to confession… so I don't lose count! One… two… five… ten… twenty…" – Ioh shouted the count amidst the sounds of torn flesh.
Blood, beast after beast, sprayed the air, and Ioh's sword gleamed red, stained with blood. The last howl of the pack faded, and in front of him remained only Silver Fang, his muzzle foaming and his eyes mad with fury.
With a leap, the werewolf lunged at Ioh, claws ready to rip open his chest. Ioh dodged, spun, grabbed him by the nape with unexpected strength, and with the other hand, drew a small crossbow.
— "Your last words, beast?" he said, coldly.
Silver Fang spat blood and roared:
— "If you kill me, you'll never know the truth… only I know it!"
— "Then take it with you to Hell!" answered Ioh.
Two silver bolts flew, piercing his forehead. The body trembled, the eyes went dark, and the corpse fell into the dust.
The night returned to silence, the forest swallowed its dead, and the village breathed easier. Villagers emerged, their faces lit by torches and their eyes wide:
— "Praise the Lord… The hunter has freed us from the curse!" some whispered.
Without stopping, Ioh quickly stepped to the stable. He opened the creaking door, and inside the twins watched him with wide, uncomprehending eyes. The blue seed still pulsed, watched over by its power.
The hunter exhaled in relief, if only for a moment.
The villagers gathered around him, their gazes mixing fear and respect. The village chief, with great gratitude, said:
— "Sir… you risked your life for us. You chased away the beast and its damned pack… Thank you."
Another added, in a low voice:
— "Tell us, how can we repay you?"
Ioh, looking past them at the simple houses, whispered:
— "I'm looking for someone… a blind man, his name is Ronan. Do you know where I can find him?"
The villagers looked at each other, until an old man with a white beard answered:
— "Ronan lives on the edge of the village… in an old house, by the forest. He's withdrawn… hasn't spoken to anyone in years. But if there's anyone who can tell you something, it's him."
Then, with a flicker of courage, he added:
— "Try, stranger… Maybe he'll want to listen to you."
Encouraged by the villagers, Ioh wrapped his cloak tighter around the twins and set out toward the edge of the village, where the forest shadows seemed to whisper ancient secrets.
Ioh reached the front of the dilapidated hut at the forest's edge, where the windows were covered with cracked boards, and smoke rose from a crooked chimney. On the doorstep, the weak moonlight revealed some old, almost erased symbols.
When he raised his hand to knock, a cold shiver crossed the air. Ronan's Ancient Aura, heavy, spread beyond the door. The twins shivered in Ioh's arms and began to cry, and the air around felt denser, harder to breathe, as if they stood atop a high mountain.
Without blinking, Ioh released his own Ancient Aura – a wave sharp as a silver blade, breaking the night's silence.
From behind the door, came a hoarse voice, heavy with years and secrets:
— "Who seeks me at this hour of night… carrying the power of old curses on his shoulders?"
Ioh, his voice calm but firm:
— "I am the monk Ioh! Are you Ronan, the blind one? I found these twins… each bears on his body a mark, a strange number. I want to understand what it means."
A silence fell, so deep that only the twins' breathing could be heard.
Ronan slowly opened the door, and his face, scarred and covered with a thick scarf, seemed carved in stone:
— "For a very long time I have not heard of children with numbers burned into their flesh…" he said, with a mix of wonder and fear.
— "When I could still see, it was said that such infants bear the Mark of the Titans… children whom even the darkness fears. But their secret is old… and too dangerous to be spoken aloud."
Ronan tilted his head, as if listening to the echo of his own memories:
— "No one truly knows where they come from. But the Great Pact… was made so that such children would never be born. Legends say they can overturn the world's balance."
Then, with a sigh heavy as lead, he added:
— "Listen to me, monk… withdraw into the deep forests, raise them and prepare them for what is to come. Otherwise… they don't stand the slightest chance to survive."
Ioh, for a moment at peace with the answers received, listened to Ronan's advice and decided to withdraw into the depths of the forest to protect the little ones. In his mind already grew the plan that, when they grew up, he must uncover the mysteries of their past.
Without hesitation, he thanked Ronan for his help, then took his leave of the villagers who watched him with respect mixed with fear. He leaned down toward Luc and Nicolai and, with a voice warmer than he had ever shown, said:
— "Raise your hand, little ones… to say goodbye to this world, at least for a while."
And so, as the shadows of the night spread over the village of Crucea Veche, Ioh stepped slowly into the darkness of the forest with one thought in mind: "If these children truly bear the Mark of the Titans, then the path we walk will be full of obstacles." His silhouette disappeared among the trees, and the moon remained the only witness to a journey just beginning — a journey that would change everyone's fate.