The first light of morning filtered through the trees, pale and cold, illuminating the village that had stood on the brink of disaster. The heroes, exhausted, their faces marked by sleeplessness and the strain of the night, looked at one another. No one spoke. They all shared the same unease—the same feeling that something had happened, something they did not understand.
Lusian returned alone.
His armor, coated with dust and the lingering shadows of the night, barely reflected the morning light. There were no visible wounds, no signs of battle.
Only him.
"Where… where were you?" Emily asked, her voice trembling between exhaustion and concern.
Lusian did not answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, as if he were still searching for something no one else could see.
"The pack…" he finally said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "They will not see the light of this day."
The heroes exchanged confused glances. Alejandro frowned, Leonardo pressed his lips together. The night had passed in silence—no attacks, no ambushes… except for distant cries that echoed far away, fading before anyone could confront them.
Emily noticed something strange in the air, a void where conflict should have been. Only the faint echoes of creatures falling, of screams swallowed by the darkness, of something… hunting.
"Something… was hunting the pack," she whispered, more to herself than to the others. "And it wasn't a hero we could see."
Lusian did not reply.
He simply looked at her, letting the weight of his words—and the silent evidence of the hunt—speak for themselves. The darkness had been alive during the night, and the heroes began to understand, though not completely, that Lusian's presence turned the night into something no one else could face without dying.
The air filled with unanswered questions, with a mixture of fear and admiration. Something had happened beneath the darkness, something only Lusian could control.
And it left them all—even the heroes—with an unsettling realization:
Night was dangerous if Lusian was there.
"I'm going to sleep," Lusian said, his voice deep and heavy with fatigue. "I'm exhausted."
He turned and walked toward his tent, moving with the calm of someone who had already faced the night and survived the unthinkable.
Adela followed him without hesitation. Her steps were silent, determined.
"I'll protect him while he rests," she murmured to herself, a gleam in her eyes that hid something deeper than loyalty.
Emily wanted to go to him as well. Her instinct as his companion and protector pushed her forward.
"We're not sure the area is safe yet," Alejandro intervened, frowning, his muscles tense. "Better if we patrol the perimeter."
Emily, though she didn't want to leave Lusian, nodded. Reason overrode her impulse.
When the small group left the forest and reached the outer fields, the sight before them stole their breath.
The monsters lay scattered across the ground.
Dead.
There were no visible signs of battle.
The wind whispered through the trees, and for a moment the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Even the bravest felt a chill crawl down their spine.
Emily swallowed, unable to look away.
Alejandro clenched his fist, frustrated—and afraid.
In silence, Lusian rested inside his tent…
while Adela lay beside him, still breathing unevenly.