The corpses of the shadow-wolves still smoked faintly where they had fallen. Elder wiped blood from his face with a shaking hand, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. The air tasted of iron and ash, and the silence that followed the battle was heavier than the fight itself.
He stood for a long while, forcing his trembling legs to steady.
[Status Window – Elder]
[Level: 2 – Initiate of the Covenant]
[Strength: 4 | Vitality: 3 | Perception: 2]
[Skill: Covenant Sense (Active)]
The glowing screen faded as he exhaled slowly. "Level two," he muttered. "And I almost died for it."
The system remained silent.
Elder tightened his grip on the jagged stone he had used as a weapon. It was cracked, edges blunted with gore. Against stronger foes, it would shatter instantly. He needed something better.
But the ruins behind him offered nothing except dust and broken memories. His only option was forward.
He turned toward the mountains and the distant glow of the city he had glimpsed earlier. It shimmered faintly under the crimson sky, like a promise just out of reach. Between him and that promise stretched miles of forest, shadowed and alive with unseen dangers.
Elder swallowed hard. "One step at a time."
He entered the trees.
The forest was darker than he expected. Strange vines hung from branches, their tips glowing faintly, dripping with liquid that hissed when it touched the ground. Insects with crystal-like wings buzzed overhead, their hum echoing like whispers.
Every sound made him tense. Every shadow threatened to move. Yet the system's Covenant Sense flared occasionally, warning him when hidden predators slithered too close. Each time, Elder veered away, skirting danger rather than testing his fragile strength.
Hours passed. His stomach ached with hunger, throat dry. The world around him was beautiful but merciless. Survival was a battle even without enemies.
At last, the forest began to thin. Through the trees, he glimpsed smoke curling lazily into the sky—gray, steady, too controlled to belong to a wildfire.
His heart leapt. People.
He broke into a desperate jog, ignoring the protest of his sore muscles. Branches scraped against his arms as he pushed through the undergrowth until he stumbled onto a dirt road.
And there he saw it.
A caravan of wooden wagons rolled slowly along the path, pulled by beasts unlike any he had known—massive, six-legged creatures with scales instead of fur, their eyes glowing a dull amber. Armed men and women walked alongside the wagons, spears and bows ready, their armor patched but sturdy.
Elder froze at the treeline, breath caught in his throat.
Humans.
For the first time since awakening, he wasn't alone.
He wanted to rush forward, to call out, but doubt clawed at him. What if they weren't friendly? What if they mistook him for a threat? He glanced at himself—bloodstained clothes, dirt-smeared skin, wild eyes. He looked more like a vagrant than anything else.
Before he could decide, a shout rang out.
"Movement!" one of the guards barked, pointing his spear toward the trees.
Half a dozen weapons immediately turned in Elder's direction.
Panic surged. He stumbled out of the undergrowth with hands raised. "Wait! I—I'm not your enemy!"
The guards tightened their formation, eyes wary. A woman at the front, clad in worn leather armor, stepped forward. Her gaze was sharp, her black hair tied back, a scar running down her cheek.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "What clan do you belong to?"
Elder blinked. "Clan?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You're no villager. And no traveler would wander the beastwood unarmed." She raised her hand. "If you're a spy from the Ironblood Horde, speak now or lose your tongue."
"I don't even know what that is!" Elder shouted desperately. "I'm… I'm lost. I woke up in the ruins behind me. Please, I don't mean harm."
The caravan murmured. Suspicion lingered heavy in their eyes.
The woman studied him for a long moment. Then, with a sharp gesture, she signaled her men to lower their weapons—slightly.
"You'll come with us," she said coldly. "If your words are false, the elders of our village will decide your fate."
Relief flooded Elder, though it was tempered by unease. Still, it was better than starving alone.
"I'll cooperate," he said quickly.
Two guards approached, binding his hands with rough rope. Elder didn't resist. As they pushed him toward the caravan, he caught the wary glances of the travelers inside the wagons—men, women, and children, all thin and weary. This wasn't a group of conquerors. These were refugees.
The wagons rolled on, and Elder walked among them, guarded but not attacked.
Hours later, as dusk painted the sky deeper crimson, the caravan crested a hill. Below, nestled in a valley, lay a small village surrounded by wooden palisades. Smoke rose from chimneys, faint laughter mingling with the cries of livestock. Compared to the wilderness, it was a sanctuary.
Elder's chest tightened. A place to rest… at least for now.
The caravan entered through the gates. Villagers greeted the travelers with relief, though their joy dimmed when they noticed the stranger among them. Whispers followed Elder as he was dragged toward a long hall at the village's center.
Inside, firelight bathed the chamber. At the far end sat three elders, robed in faded garments embroidered with symbols of flame and sky. Their eyes were sharp despite their age.
The scarred woman bowed. "We found him in the beastwood, covered in blood. He claims ignorance of the Horde and says he woke in the ruins."
The eldest of the three leaned forward. His voice was soft but heavy with authority. "Stranger. What is your name?"
"…Elder," he answered, his throat dry.
The elder's gaze lingered on him, as though weighing his soul. Finally, he nodded slowly.
"You carry no clan mark. No insignia of war. Yet the ruins you speak of are sacred grounds forbidden to mortals."
Elder's heart pounded. "I didn't know… I just woke there. I swear."
The three elders exchanged glances. The eldest sighed.
"Then perhaps fate has led you to us, for good or ill. You may stay until the next dawn. But understand this, outsider—our village suffers under the shadow of war. Trust must be earned."
Elder bowed his head. "I understand."
The guards untied him and shoved him toward the exit. As he stepped outside, the cool night air washed over him. Stars burned bright above, unfamiliar constellations scattered across the sky.
He sat on the steps of the hall, exhausted yet restless.
The Covenant's voice whispered within him.
[Warning: The village harbors secrets. The Second Trial draws near.]
Elder clenched his fists. He had finally found people, a fragile refuge. But even here, danger awaited.
And somewhere beyond the mountains, the Covenant's true path loomed ever closer.