Mud swallowed the soles of my boots the instant we crossed into the hidden sanctuary.
Near a dying campfire, a healer rushed past carrying a bowl of steaming herbs with a bitter scent, while two exhausted soldiers leaned against a cracked support beam, their knuckles white around the shaft of a broken spear as they argued in fierce whispers.
Somewhere high above us, within the canopy, the sudden laughter of a child cut through the damp air—only to be instantly smothered by the panicked hush of a mother.
The refuge didn't merely smell of wet moss and woodsmoke.
It carried the metallic taste of fresh sweat and old blood.
And yet, beneath the grime and exhaustion, the pulse of the village remained undeniable.
It was a community refusing to stop breathing.
"Please… don't judge my kingdom."
Sillys slowed just enough for us to walk beside her.
She offered a composed smile, but the expression cracked almost immediately beneath the exhaustion surrounding her pale eyes.
Her posture remained perfectly straight, though her shoulders sagged for the briefest moment beneath some invisible weight before she forced them rigid again.
"This chaos is temporary," she added quietly, her hand tightening into a fist.
Laura remained silent beside me, red eyes scanning the darkness carefully.
A few meters away, a one-armed veteran sat beside a glowing bioluminescent pond, patiently guiding the hands of three children as they carved rough arrowheads from monster bones.
Farther down, near a bridge woven from roots, bloodstained tunics swayed from hanging lines while exhausted mothers scrubbed crimson stains from the fabric with trembling hands.
That fragile collision between war and ordinary life struck me harder than I expected.
"Come," Sillys murmured, gesturing toward a narrow passage framed by enormous roots. "I'll show you where you'll stay."
We followed the exiled princess through suffocatingly narrow pathways carved between roots thicker than castle walls.
Massive fungi clung to the bark like glowing blue veins, casting pale light across the damp ground beneath our feet.
Eventually, Sillys stopped in front of a larger structure guarded by heavily armed sentries.
Unlike the wounded refugees outside, these soldiers still stood alert despite the fatigue carved deep into their faces.
At the entrance, Sillys glanced upward toward the invisible sky hidden beyond the canopy.
For the first time since meeting her, the regal mask slipped completely.
"I need rest," she said softly.
Her voice rasped against her throat as though every word cost her strength.
"One of my men will guide you to a nearby cabin. Please… come see me tomorrow."
A freezing gust curled around her cloak one final time before she disappeared into the darkness beyond the heavy wooden doors.
The sharp thud of the doors slamming shut echoed through the hollow roots.
And the moment the iron lock clicked into place—
Sillys collapsed.
Her knees gave out beneath her instantly.
She slid down the door until she hit the wooden floor heavily, remaining there in the darkness with shaking hands raised in front of her pale eyes.
The leather gloves covering her fingers were torn apart.
Beneath them, raw flesh split open beneath countless cuts caused by the hyper-condensed wind pressure generated by her divine bow.
The cost of firing it repeatedly for months.
She pulled her wounded hands against her chest and curled inward tightly.
A suffocating burn climbed her throat.
Sillys clenched her teeth hard enough to hurt.
She wanted to cry.
Gods, she wanted to break apart and empty nine months of fear, death, starvation, and isolation out onto the floor.
But she couldn't.
If the leader shattered—
then whatever hope still lingered inside the Black Forest would shatter with her.
Swallowing the sob before it escaped, Sillys forced herself upright using the door as support.
Every movement made her body protest violently.
Now that nobody could see her, the limp she had hidden so carefully became obvious.
She stumbled deeper into the room, shedding the image of the "unbreakable commander" piece by piece along the way.
First came the cloak.
The heavy fabric stained with Taranpus blood slipped from her shoulders and collapsed onto the floor behind her.
Then the boots.
Then the dull metal armor pieces tied around her arms and shoulders.
Each one hit the floor with muted metallic thuds.
Finally, she removed the chestplate.
And the truth beneath it emerged.
Sillys' body looked nothing like that of an untouched princess.
Beneath the armor, filthy bandages wrapped tightly around her ribs.
Acid burns scarred her pale skin.
Deep claw wounds twisted across her sides where infections had healed badly under battlefield conditions.
And beneath it all, severe malnutrition sharpened the outlines of her bones beneath her skin.
She stripped away the torn tactical clothing piece by piece until only a black compression top remained.
That too eventually joined the pile.
Breathing heavily now, Sillys crossed into the bathroom carved directly into the heartwood of the tree itself.
Steam already filled the small chamber.
Without hesitation, she removed the final layer separating her from the outside world and locked the door behind her.
The dense vapor wrapped around her injured body as she approached the large herbal bath waiting at the center of the room.
Dark water steamed violently beneath floating medicinal leaves.
Sillys stepped inside.
The heat struck her open wounds like molten needles.
Her jaw locked instantly.
Fingers dug into the edge of the tub as she lowered herself deeper into the burning water.
Legs.
Waist.
Chest.
The pain was almost unbearable at first.
Then slowly—
it became relief.
She leaned her head back against the wooden edge and untied her hair, allowing strands of silver-white hair to drift across the dark surface of the water.
For the first time all day, her body stopped fighting to remain standing.
Her pale eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.
The envoys from Lavinsk had arrived.
And somehow, she knew they would either save the forest—
or destroy what little remained of it.
And if they came to destroy it—
then she would kill every last one of them herself.
Our guide was an elven boy who looked younger than me, though the dark circles beneath his eyes made him move like an old man.
He led us across several woven bridges suspended between enormous branches until we reached a modest cabin hanging between two massive trees.
The entire structure groaned beneath our combined weight.
Laura stepped inside first and frowned immediately.
"Man… this place is tiny."
"At least it has a roof," Arthur muttered, throwing his massive body onto the couch without ceremony.
The wood screamed beneath him.
He simply crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.
"Good enough."
"There's only one bedroom," Laura pointed out.
Arthur didn't even bother opening his eyes.
"You're welcome to fight Suki for it."
She snorted softly, claws catching the dim light.
"I'd win."
"Doubt it," I murmured with a quiet laugh while pointing toward the hallway. "I'll take the shower first."
Neither of them argued.
The bathroom was small, built entirely from polished wood intertwined with thick living roots still pulsing faintly with magic.
I carefully placed my tactical pouch beside the sink, making sure the Queen's metallic scroll remained dry.
The moment I turned an old bronze valve, glowing runes ignited across the wall.
A circular portal hummed into existence.
Boiling crystal-clear water poured from it instantly.
I lowered myself into the rustic bathtub slowly, and the heat nearly forced a groan out of my throat.
My muscles loosened violently beneath the scalding water.
For a few seconds, the warmth almost felt enough to erase reality.
Almost.
Because my mind refused to let go.
*Sillys is the exiled daughter of the Elven Queen.*
My jaw tightened immediately.
*If my mission is to deliver this message directly to Elfhing… then doesn't that automatically place me against Sillys?*
We had walked blindly into the center of an elven civil war.
I pressed wet fingers against the bridge of my nose while steam thickened around me.
The enchanted bathwater remained near boiling, yet somehow the excess vapor vanished through invisible mechanisms carved into the walls.
I closed my eyes again.
And suddenly—
the forest dragged me backward through memory.
Cold autumn air.
Owls crying somewhere in the dark.
Tree shadows twisting like claws.
Carina sitting beside the riverbank crying because our only compass had slipped from her fingers and vanished into the muddy current.
The panic of realizing we were completely lost beyond the village borders.
Back then, fear had frozen me completely.
That helplessness was exactly what pushed me years later to beg my father to teach me navigation, survival, and how to read the wind itself.
We'd been seconds away from making everything worse.
Fernando and Susen were already arguing about which direction led home.
Carina was panicking.
And then Henrique stopped all of us.
He leaned against an oak tree breathing heavily, cheeks red from struggling to keep pace with the rest of us.
Physically, Henrique always lagged behind.
But his mind—
his mind was terrifyingly sharp.
While the rest of us spiraled into panic, he simply wiped sweat from his forehead and raised one hand calmly.
"Nobody runs," he ordered firmly.
"If we move blindly in the dark, someone's going to break a leg or fall into a ravine."
Then he pointed at me.
"Suki. Gather dry wood before the light disappears."
He turned toward Carina.
"Clear the ground around us."
Then toward Fernando and Susen.
"You two stop fighting and find large leaves. Preferably banana leaves."
We all stared at him.
Meanwhile, Henrique simply sat down on an exposed root and continued speaking like some exhausted little commander.
"The adults know the route we usually take," he explained. "When the sun rises, the smoke from the fire will guide them to us."
And he was right.
The hunters found us the next morning exactly where we had stayed.
Safe.
Alive.
Together.
I opened my eyes abruptly.
Steam blurred my vision.
We survived that forest.
But in the end—
I still lost them.
I leaned my head back against the wood and stared silently at the ceiling.
We had marched blindly into another forest.
Another war.
Another situation where I had no idea what the right path looked like.
"What would your plan be now, Henrique?" I whispered quietly into the steam.
My fist tightened beneath the water.
A pulse of black aura leaked from my body instinctively.
The wooden walls groaned.
Water rippled violently across the bathtub.
Outside, something metallic crashed against the floor.
I froze instantly.
*Damn.*
Closing my eyes, I forced the violent energy downward again, anchoring it deep within my core.
*Control the weight,* Silver's voice echoed inside my mind.
*Don't fight it. Guide it.*
Slowly, the pressure faded.
The room fell silent once more.
Several minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom wearing the clean set of elven clothes someone had left folded nearby.
The material felt unlike anything I had ever worn before.
The charcoal-colored tunic seemed to absorb light itself.
The fabric slid across my skin like cold water, avoiding even the slightest friction against my bruises and cuts.
Its design was entirely practical: high collar, fitted chest, reinforced shoulders, flexible enough to allow unrestricted combat movement.
The pants followed the same principle.
Light.
Durable.
Perfect for mobility.
But despite the undeniable practicality—
the appearance still bothered me slightly.
Thin silver embroidery wrapped around the sleeves and hem in intricate patterns resembling thorned branches and flowing wind runes.
Whenever I moved, the symbols shimmered faintly beneath the light.
It looked less like tactical gear and more like something worn by a noble heir attending a royal ceremony.
Not a fighter raised wearing torn hoodies and mud-covered boots.
Still…
it was infinitely more comfortable than armor soaked in blood and sweat.
Back in the main room, Arthur was already unconscious.
Or dead.
Honestly, with him, it was difficult to tell.
Laura remained standing near the narrow window while pale moonlight filtered through the leaves and reflected softly against her dark hair.
"The room's yours," I told her calmly. "Arthur and I will manage out here."
She glanced back over her shoulder, exhaustion softening her usual sharp expression.
"Thanks, Suki. I'm completely destroyed after this trip."
"Get some rest."
I reached for my boots near the door.
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
"And where exactly are you going?"
"Just getting some air," I lied smoothly. "Won't take long."
I slipped outside before she could question me further.
The refuge had fully surrendered to the night.
The campfires had collapsed into dim red embers between the roots, and the exhausted murmurs of the village had vanished completely.
But before I even reached the perimeter—
Silver's training took over automatically.
Every hidden scout.
Every blind spot.
Every vulnerable approach.
I could feel all of them.
Moving silently through the darkness, I reached the outermost watch platform.
"Stop right there!"
A spear snapped upward toward my throat in a silver flash.
"Relax," I answered calmly, raising my hands slightly. "You saw me arrive with Sillys. I'm not an enemy."
The elf hesitated.
"The demigod…"
"Suki," I corrected quietly.
"…Right."
His grip on the ashwood spear remained tight.
"What are you doing out here?"
I stepped closer and rested one hand against the rough railing beside him.
"I need a favor."
Suspicion hardened his face instantly.
"Call everyone back tonight."
His expression twisted.
"What?"
"All perimeter guards. Order them to rest."
"That's insane!" he snapped. "My family sleeps safely because my brothers and I bleed on these borders!"
"And you're all walking corpses."
My voice remained low and steady as I placed a hand firmly against his shoulder armor.
"Trust me. I'll hold the perimeter alone tonight."
The sentry stared directly into my eyes, searching for arrogance.
For stupidity.
For a lie.
He found none.
"Nobody touches this village while I'm here," I said quietly. "I promise."
Wind hissed through the massive branches overhead.
Slowly, the fight drained from his body.
He gave one solemn nod before vanishing into the forest to relay the order.
Minutes later, the atmosphere itself began to change.
One by one, hidden scouts abandoned their positions.
The crushing tension lingering around the village slowly disappeared alongside them.
I sat at the edge of the wooden platform overlooking the endless abyss of the Black Forest.
The freezing wind whipped against my face, but the enchanted elven clothing blocked the cold almost perfectly.
I rolled my shoulders experimentally.
The fit was flawless.
My hand drifted unconsciously toward the metallic scroll hidden inside my pouch.
The weight of that mission felt heavier than armor.
I was here protecting the sister of the girl I had killed inside the arena.
The irony burned bitterly in my throat.
Closing my eyes, I let my hunter instincts take control completely.
The darkness ahead felt alive.
Breathing.
Waiting.
I allowed a thin thread of black aura to dance briefly across my fingertips.
Just enough to wake my blood.
Just enough to warn the forest.
Twenty minutes later, hurried footsteps thundered across the wooden platforms behind me.
The young sentry returned, breathing hard.
"They're resting," he said between breaths.
Relief cracked visibly through his exhausted face.
"They're actually sleeping tonight. Thank you, Suki."
"Don't worry about it."
I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.
"Go rest too."
The elf bowed deeply before disappearing back into the roots.
And then—
silence remained.
True silence.
I walked to the edge of the platform facing the endless darkness and sat cross-legged beneath the freezing wind.
Then I released myself completely.
My awareness expanded outward like an invisible tide.
The entire refuge unfolded inside my mind.
Children sleeping beneath worn blankets.
Mutilated soldiers finally unconscious from exhaustion.
Healers collapsed beside empty medicine bowls.
And deep within the central roots—
Sillys.
Asleep at last.
Still carrying the collapse of an entire kingdom across her narrow shoulders.
Then my aura spread beyond the borders.
Far deeper into the Black Forest.
Monstrous signatures emerged instantly inside my consciousness.
Grotesque masses of hunger and malice moving through the undergrowth.
Taranpus.
The moment my aura rolled across them, every single creature froze.
I felt the impact through the earth itself as colossal paws skidded violently across wet soil.
One by one, the monsters turned away.
Distant trees cracked and splintered through the darkness—
not from attack.
From retreat.
They were fleeing.
For the first time in nine months—
nobody in that refuge prepared themselves to die before sunrise.
A small warmth stirred quietly inside my chest.
*The village is safe tonight.*
And there, perched at the edge of the abyss beneath silver moonlight—
I maintained my solitary vigil.
A demigod watching over the final fragile remnants of hope hidden deep within a forgotten kingdom.