In the stillness of the dark night, the sound of dry twigs snapping beneath Kyle's boots echoed like explosions. Behind him, the villagers' shouts and the orange glow of torches were slowly fading into the distance, yet Baelin's words kept hammering inside his mind.
"Chronos Guild… what exactly awaits me there?"
Kyle clenched his fist. He didn't know whether this journey would grant him freedom—or pull him even closer to Draken.
The black ring on his finger had turned cold now, as if it had locked the boiling violet energy inside him within some deep, invisible prison.
"You can hide it… but you can't erase it," Draken's whisper slithered from a dark corner of his mind.
"Be quiet!" Kyle shouted inwardly.
Suddenly, the silence of the forest shattered with a blood-curdling scream. The cry was so filled with agony that Kyle froze in place. His heart began pounding violently. For a brief moment, he felt the urge to turn around and run—but inside him, curiosity and fear clashed in a strange battle.
Moving cautiously, he crept toward the direction from where the scream had come. As he pushed aside the bushes and looked ahead, his eyes widened in shock.
A massive figure lay sprawled on the ground before him.
It was an Orc—but in such a condition that anyone would shudder. Deep gashes covered his green body, as though he had been mercilessly carved apart. He was barely alive, his breathing ragged and uneven.
A towering seven-foot Orc—Grommash—was counting his final breaths. His body was riddled with wounds, and marks of some poisonous weapon stained his skin. Kyle touched the black ring on his finger and muttered inwardly, "Check Status."
[Status Window]
● Name: Grommash
● Level: 25
● Race: Orc Warrior
● Condition: Critical – Toxic Poisoning
Draken's laughter echoed in his mind. "Kyle… this Orc is Level 25. Baelin's ring can only deceive those below Level 20. This one, even in his current state, can see your true nature. But if you save him… he will become the most loyal ally in this world."
Kyle made his decision.
He placed his hands over Grommash's blood-soaked body. In the next instant, violet and black mist—Shadow-Stitch—flowed from his palms. The magical energy moved like silky threads, stitching torn flesh together. The poison began to seep out slowly, and the wounds started closing.
As consciousness returned to Grommash's eyes and his eyelids fluttered open, he did not see Kyle's face.
He sensed something else.
Behind Kyle… stood an ancient shadow.
The same terrifying energy that the entire world had witnessed that day as a violet veil across the sky now loomed before Grommash.
"No! Stay away from me!" Grommash roared, using the last of his strength to shove Kyle backward. Kyle stumbled and crashed against the trunk of an old tree. There was more than hatred in the Orc's eyes—there was pure fear. "That violet death… it was because of you? You are the one who awakened that ancient demon?"
Grommash trembled. In Orc folklore, there were tales that when Draken's vessel awakened, innocence and mercy would vanish from the world. To him, the small human standing before him was the monster destined to end everything.
"Wait, Grommash! Listen to me!" Kyle shouted, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. "I didn't attack you—I saved you! If I were the monster you're talking about, would I have healed you instead of leaving you here to die?"
Grommash's breathing gradually steadied. He looked down at his body—the poison was gone, and his wounds were closing. When he looked into Kyle's eyes, he saw no cruelty. Only fear… the fear of someone running from fate.
Kyle continued, "Baelin gave me this ring so the world wouldn't recognize me. I don't want to become a monster, Grommash. I want to break this curse. That's why I'm heading toward the Chronos Guild. I don't know what awaits me there—but I need someone who knows this forest better than I do."
At the mention of the Chronos Guild, some of the tension left Grommash's face. He knew that only that organization could unravel ancient curses of this magnitude. His heavy gaze fell upon the black ring on Kyle's finger. He understood that this boy was suppressing a fire capable of turning the entire forest into ash.
Grommash planted his massive hammer against the ground and took a long breath. "Human… you saved my life. An Orc never leaves a debt unpaid. If your path leads to that Guild, then my hammer will serve as your shield."
His tone darkened into a warning. "But remember this—Draken's shadow is deep. The day the innocence in your eyes fades and that demon takes control of your body… on that day, this hammer will not rise to repay a debt—but to break your neck."
Kyle bowed his head in agreement. He realized his journey had grown even more dangerous. The ring might conceal his identity, but every warrior above Level 20 could become either his protector—or his executioner.
The cold forest winds felt far more terrifying now.
They rested beneath an old half-fallen banyan tree. Lighting a fire was too risky; in the darkness, even a small flame could invite predators. Kyle couldn't stop thinking about the deep wounds Grommash had suffered. Who could have reduced a Level 25 warrior to such a state?
Gathering his courage, Kyle looked into Grommash's burning red eyes. "Grommash… how were you injured like this? Who is responsible for this? An Orc warrior doesn't fall this easily. This wasn't some ordinary attack."
A flicker of agony crossed Grommash's eyes, making Kyle's heart tremble. The Orc clenched his fist so tightly that his nails pierced his palm. He exhaled heavily, as though trying to calm a volcano raging inside his chest.
"These wounds are not of the body, human… they are the marks of my soul's ruin," Grommash said, his voice heavy with both echo and pain. "I was a guardian of the Blood-Fist Clan. We lived peacefully at the foothills of the mountains… until they came. The executioners of the Umbra Conclave."
A strange chill filled the air as he spoke.
"They came at midnight. Black fire in their hands. Masks over their faces. They surrounded our clan from all sides. Our elders—who had never harmed anyone—were slaughtered before our eyes without mercy."
His voice trembled. "My brothers… my fellow warriors… we fought until our last drop of strength. But against their magical chains, our power was not enough. They bound my family, my own blood brothers, in chains and dragged them away as slaves."
Kyle swallowed nervously. "What about the children?"
A tear fell from Grommash's eye, landing on his heavy hammer. "Those monsters… they spared no one. They took the children too—threw them into dark mines where even sunlight cannot reach. They have been condemned to a fate worse than death. I was the only one who managed to escape… so that one day I could return and free my clan. But their poisoned weapons left me like this."
Grommash fixed his gaze on Kyle. "Now do you understand? The Umbra Conclave hungers for the same dark power you carry. They are searching the world for ancient remnants like Draken to increase their strength. If they discover that the 'shadow' resides within you… they will drag you into those same mines."
Kyle stood speechless.
He realized now that he and Grommash shared the same enemy. The injustice done to the Orc clan was the very same threat looming over him.
A new resolve formed inside him.
"Grommash," Kyle said firmly, "I don't know how strong I truly am… but I promise you this. If we reach the Chronos Guild and I learn to control this curse, I will help you free your clan."
Grommash studied him carefully, and for the first time, a faint smile appeared on his face.
"Until then, human… we survive."
Cliphanger:–
A scream suddenly echoed once more through the forest. Kyle and Grommash both sprang to their feet and rushed toward the sound. When they arrived, they saw a girl locked in battle with a monster.
Author Note:–
Who was that girl? A future all
y… or a hidden enemy? What do you think will happen next? Let me know your thoughts in the comments!