Earlier that morning, before dawn
Three days of running had brought Takam Teleu to the edge of collapse.
He moved through the pre-dawn darkness of Botankeu Forest like a shadow, his breathing controlled despite the exhaustion that clawed at his muscles. Every sound made him tense—the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird. Any of them could signal that his pursuers had finally caught up.
The hollow oak tree appeared before him like a gift from the gods. Moss hung thick over its entrance, and the interior was deep enough to hide in while offering a defensible position. Not perfect—only one way in meant only one way out—but it would have to do.
Teleu slipped inside and pressed himself against the far wall, his father's ceremonial blade drawn and ready. His ribs ached where he'd taken a glancing blow two days ago. His supplies were nearly exhausted. But he was still alive, and that was all that mattered.
He'd been there less than an hour when he heard footsteps.
Light. Quick. Desperate.
Someone was running toward his hiding spot.
Teleu's grip tightened on his blade. Friend or foe? Bait or genuine? In his experience, coincidences in the forest were usually traps.
The moss curtain rustled, and a figure stumbled into the hollow—not even checking the interior before rushing inside.
Female. Young. Dressed in muddy, torn clothes that had once been fine. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and in the darkness, she clearly hadn't seen him yet.
Careless, Teleu thought. Running blind into an unknown space. Either desperate or foolish. Probably both.
He moved like lightning, his blade at her throat before she could scream.
"Who are you? Why are you here? Are you one of the people following me around?" His voice was cold, emotionless—the voice of someone ready to kill if the answer displeased him.
The girl froze, her entire body going rigid. He felt her pulse hammering against the flat of his blade.
"I, I a..m not going after you, you are mistaken," she replied in a frail voice.
The accent caught his attention immediately. Not from Ankh. Different kingdom entirely—Gold Land, if he had to guess.
Teleu removed the knife from her neck, though he didn't sheathe it.
"Your accent is different. You are not from the Ankh kingdom, you therefore can't be the one after me. Nonetheless, you shouldn't be here. Get out of this trunk."
Instead of leaving, the girl stayed. Worse, she started crying and pleading.
"Please! Please ser, help me. There is a group of mercenaries after me. Help me escape ser."
Teleu's expression remained unchanged. He'd learned long ago that emotional appeals were how people manipulated you into dying for their causes.
"I was lenient enough to let you live, don't make me change my mind. I don't know you, I have no intention of getting mixed in your karma. I am not some hero or gentleman. Get out."
"I will offer you gold, status, women. Anything you want if you can get me out of this situation. Please, ser, you will be handsomely rewarded."
Her stubbornness might have been admirable under other circumstances. Now it was just dangerous—for both of them.
"What do you not get by I won't involve myself with you. It seems you need a lesson."
Teleu grabbed his daggers and approached menacingly, his imposing aura filling the cramped space. If words wouldn't move her, perhaps fear would.
"I prefer dying by your hands rather than getting o—"
"Shhh!!!" Teleu clamped his hand over her mouth. "People are approaching us from a distance."
Voices carried through the forest. Male. Professional. Hunting.
The girl's eyes went wide with terror, and she finally had the sense to go quiet.
Teleu positioned himself where he could see the entrance while keeping the girl behind him. His mind raced through calculations. Three voices at least. Well-trained by the sound of their movement. And if they found this tree...
"She is nearby! Guys stop. Let's search the area. Look for footsteps, or anything suspicious."
The mercenaries were close now. Too close.
"Brother, it seems that bitch was clever. She erased her footsteps."
"You are right, nothing here either."
A long pause. Then: "You guys shouldn't worry, I will figure where she is."
....
"Young miss, we know you are here, come out of your hiding spot."
The voice came from directly outside their tree.
The girl's trembling intensified. Teleu kept his hand firmly over her mouth.
"Young Miss, if we find the way into the trunk, then there is no way you will escape. Come out and let us have a chat."
Silence. They were trying to lure her out with false promises of negotiation. Standard tactic.
Then another voice: "There is a faint smell nearby, different from the one you gave me. It seems she isn't alone."
Damn.
"It's not her guard. It's different from earlier. We should draw them out else we might be walking into a trap."
At least they were cautious. That would buy him time to think.
The mercenaries regrouped outside, their voices dropping to murmurs as they planned their approach. Teleu used the moment to reassess.
Three men. Professional killers by their discipline. A tracker with scent-based abilities. All between him and escape.
The girl looked up at him with pleading eyes, as if asking what they would do now.
Teleu's expression gave nothing away, but internally he was running through scenarios. Getting involved in her fight meant complications. It meant risk. It meant potentially dying for a stranger who'd stupidly blundered into his hiding spot.
But if these killers took her for interrogation, she'd break. She'd tell them about the other person in the tree. His position would be compromised, his pursuers would be alerted to his location.
More importantly, three mercenaries focused on a high-value target meant a distraction. If they were busy chasing her, they weren't coordinating with whoever was hunting him.
The enemy of my enemy, he thought grimly.
It wasn't heroism. It was survival calculus.
He leaned close to the girl's ear and whispered, "When the fighting starts, stay low and don't get in my way. If I die, run. Don't look back."
She nodded frantically.
The attack came without further warning.
Blood tore aside the moss curtain and lunged into the hollow, his curved sword already drawn and gleaming. Behind him came Sinka, war knife ready.
They were fast. Experienced. Confident.
But Teleu was faster.
His blade caught Blood across the wrist in a cut so precise it severed tendons and bone. The mercenary's sword clattered to the ground as he screamed—a sound of shock as much as pain.
Sinka lunged forward with a war cry, but the cramped space that should have been a disadvantage became Teleu's ally. He flowed around Blood's stumbling form like water, every movement economical and deadly precise.
The tracker managed one cut—a burning line across Teleu's ribs that made him hiss in pain. But it cost Sinka his balance, and Teleu's response was immediate.
His blade found the gap between ribs and sank deep into the tracker's heart.
Two down in seconds.
"Impressive work," a voice called from outside. Karat, the leader. The smart one who'd stayed back. "But you've only delayed the inevitable. I have a crossbow aimed at that opening, and I'm a very patient man."
Teleu studied the situation with cold calculation. The moment he showed himself, a bolt would punch through his chest. Staying inside meant being trapped when reinforcements arrived—and there were always reinforcements.
He reached into his pack and produced a small spherical object, feeling its weight in his palm.
Outside, Karat's sharp intake of breath was audible even from inside the tree. "Impossible. Those are —"
Teleu didn't let him finish.
The alchemical grenade exploded in blinding light and choking smoke. He burst from the hollow using the confusion, closing the distance before Karat could reload his crossbow.
The mercenary leader was good—he managed to raise his weapon, managed to fire—but the bolt went wide in the smoke.
It was his last mistake.
Teleu's blade found his throat, and Karat's eyes widened in shock as blood fountained from the wound. He tried to speak, but only bubbles came out.
The smart one died just as easily as the others.
As the smoke cleared, Teleu surveyed the carnage with no expression. Three bodies. Three witnesses eliminated. But also three corpses that would eventually tell anyone who cared to look that someone very skilled had been here.
"Thank you! Thank you!" The girl—the princess—emerged from the hollow, tears streaming down her face. Relief and shock warred in her expression.
The princess stared at the corpses in disbelief. Given how the fight began, she had believed the stranger wouldn't survive. Grief had nearly swallowed her at the thought of another innocent life lost due to her misfortune. Never would she have predicted his victory.
Teleu ignored her gratitude. He was already searching the bodies, looking for anything that might identify who had hired them or whether they'd reported his presence to anyone.
In Karat's pocket, he found a leather pouch heavy with gold coins. Ace Kingdom currency. High grade. This had been an expensive contract.
Professional mercenaries with expensive backing. This girl's enemies had resources.