Bon and Julius had searched the entire village, but Anja was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, the soldiers and the mage had already left, and dusk was setting in. The five friends had gathered at the campsite near the village entrance, waiting for Anja to return.

  Everyone was worried—it shouldn’t have taken this long to fetch something from school. Something wasn’t right.

  As a figure approached the village, the teenagers jumped to their feet. It was Julius’ father. He had searched the city for Anja, but his expression already told them he hadn’t found anything.

  The city guards had merely told him that it wasn’t uncommon for children of commoner families to run away, hoping to escape their current lives and start anew somewhere else. They had no interest in helping.

  “That’s bullshit!” Julius shouted angrily, clenching his fists. It wasn’t the first time people like them had been ignored by the guards.

  “You don’t think she was kidnapped, do you?” Jina asked, her voice filled with concern.

  Darkness was creeping in, and Julius’ father urged the group to go home. He promised that first thing in the morning, he and the villagers would search the city again.

  Julius didn’t like this. Why wait until morning?

  “The soldiers are in the city. No criminal would dare kidnap someone in broad daylight,” his father reasoned.

  Besides, it was nearly pitch black outside. Everyone knew that staying out after nightfall was dangerous—when the demons roamed. The villages were safe, protected by a magical barrier connected to the city, but outside that protection, the dangers were real.

  Julius clenched his jaw in frustration. There was nothing he could do.

  ?

  Lying in bed, Julius tried to sleep. But the thought of the commander wouldn’t leave his mind. Just as he turned over restlessly, he suddenly heard a scream.

  A girl’s voice.

  Faint—barely more than a whisper—but clear enough to make him sit up in bed. He threw off his blanket and ran outside. Nothing.

  “Was that just my imagination?” he murmured.

  Then, the scream came again. Even softer this time. It was coming from the village entrance.

  Julius stopped in his tracks. The sound had come from the road leading to the city.

  Leaving the village at night was dangerous. He hesitated, considering turning back to wake his father.

  But then, he heard the scream once more—this time barely more than a breath in the wind.

  If he turned back now, he might lose too much time. It could already be too late.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Memories of his sister flashed through his mind.

  Without another thought, he took off running—toward the scream.

  Julius ran blindly into the night.

  He didn’t know his way through the forest. He had been to the city a few times, but only with his father.

  The screams had stopped.

  Wandering aimlessly, he had no plan. It was dark, and without a sense of direction, finding someone would be nearly impossible.

  Then he saw something on the ground.

  Blood.

  Julius held his breath.

  Determined, he followed the trail, his heartbeat quickening with every step.

  As he drew closer, he heard something—laughter.

  Two soldiers in full armor stood in the middle of a small clearing, surrounded by towering trees. Around them lay several lifeless demon hounds.

  Julius had only heard descriptions of these creatures before. Now, for the first time, he saw real demons.

  “Hurry up already. Their blood stinks,” one of the soldiers said in an irritated tone.

  The other just laughed.

  They looked identical, their faces hidden behind helmets.

  Julius hid behind a tree, breathing a sigh of relief.

  Surely, the soldiers could help him.

  Just as he was about to step forward, he noticed something.

  Someone else was there.

  A girl lay on the ground.

  One of the soldiers had his foot pressed against her chest. In his hand, he held a sword—sharp as a needle, its blade glowing faintly red.

  Julius froze.

  Looking closer, he recognized the blonde hair.

  “Jina…” he whispered.

  One of the soldiers turned sharply, noticing him.

  He drew his sword.

  “Come out,” he ordered.

  Julius’ breath caught in his throat. Panic surged through him.

  Trembling, he stepped out from behind the tree—revealing himself to the soldiers.

  The soldier was surprised—he hadn’t expected a mere boy.

  He let out a sigh.

  Julius didn’t dare speak. His eyes were fixed on Jina’s body, covered in deep cuts.

  And the only one responsible… was the soldier standing over her, a wide grin plastered across his face.

  He didn’t even turn to look at Julius.

  “What should we do with the boy?” asked the other soldier.

  The man with the red sword grinned even wider. “Her blood is simply the best.”

  Then, without hesitation, he plunged his sword into Jina’s hand.

  The blade glowed red once more.

  Jina let out a piercing scream.

  Rage flared up inside Julius.

  He wanted to charge at the man.

  But before he could take a step—

  A hand seized his throat and slammed him against a tree.

  His body dangled in the air.

  He kicked wildly, struggling for breath, but he couldn’t break free.

  He hadn’t even seen it happen—the soldier was too fast. His lungs burned. His vision blurred.

  The soldier held him up effortlessly with one arm, his sword still gripped in the other. Julius fought with everything he had, but he was powerless.

  Tears welled up in his eyes. The grip tightened. Death was coming for him.

  “You want his blood too?” the soldier asked, turning his head slightly.

  There was no response. So he decided to finish it.

  But just before he could—

  Julius raised his hand.

  His palm faced the soldier’s helmet.

  For a brief second, the soldier saw it—

  A wicked grin spreading across the boy’s face.

  Then—

  An explosion.

  A massive fireball erupted in the soldier’s face.

  The force sent him flying backward.

  Flames spread in every direction, licking at the trees, setting them ablaze.

  Julius collapsed, unconscious, his body slumped against the tree trunk.

  The other soldier stopped laughing.

  He had been so caught up in his cruelty that he hadn’t noticed what was happening around him.

  But now…

  Fire.

  His comrade lay motionless on the ground.

  His helmet was dented, scorched black, burn marks streaked across the metal.

  “This is a problem,” he muttered.

  He grabbed his fallen companion and hoisted him over his shoulder.

  Julius coughed.

  With what little strength he had left, he pushed himself up with shaking hands.

  But his body was weak.

  His vision swam, his eyelids heavy.

  “Wait…” he managed to whisper.

  But it was useless.

  The soldiers disappeared into the smoke.

  And once again—

  Julius lost consciousness.