The grass whispered against Daemon's legs as he crouched. Heart hammering. Not beating... no... hammering.
The outpost wasn't grand. Just wood. A crooked tower. A few men who thought the night was theirs. They laughed softly. Armour clinking like lazy bells.
Kaelen's whisper cut sharply beside him.
"You see him? Tower. One guard. Yours."
Daemon froze.
Mine?
Selvara's hand gripped his shoulder. Cold. Heavy. "Kill him," she said. "Do it clean. Or die trying. If he screams--" her eyes didn't flinch, "we leave you."
Ryn chuckled in the dark, low, sharp. "Go on, lamb. First blood always tastes the sweetest."
Daemon swallowed. Couldn't find spit. His tongue felt like ash.
But his legs moved. Why? He didn't know. Just... forward.
The sentry leaned on his spear, bored. He yawned. His eyes half-closed. Just a man. One man.
Daemon raised the blade.
His hand shook.
His mind screamed-- stop, stop, this isn't you, you're not a killer, you're not...
The soldier's eyes opened. Met his.
Daemon lunged. No thought. Just a sound ripped out of him--
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Steel tore. Flesh split. Hot blood sprayed his hands, his face. The soldier gagged, clawing at the wound. Daemon shoved harder, sobbing, snarling--
"DIE! JUST... DIE!"
The man fell. Throat open. Eyes wide. Breath rattling until it didn't.
Daemon dropped. Knees in the dirt. Sword clattering. His hands shook so hard he thought they'd snap. Red everywhere. Warm. Wet.
He gagged. Vomited. Couldn't stop. Nothing but bile after a while. His body was shaking like it wanted to tear itself apart.
Behind him-- laughter.
Ryn clapped slowly. Mocking. "Messy. Gods, messy. But he did it. Welcome to the flock, lamb."
Kaelen just nodded once. His face was stone. "Not clean. Not silent. But... decisive."
Selvara stepped close, her voice cutting straight through him. "Remember this moment. This is your baptism. Every drop of blood on your hands is one less holding a blade to your throat. Kill. Or die. There is no middle path."
Daemon lifted his hands. They dripped red. His chest heaved. His mind screamed no, no, not me, not this.
But beneath all that sickness... something stirred.
Something dark.
And hungry.