chapter 5

Berengar walked through his small cabin, his eyes fixed on the flickering flame of the hearth. A heavy sensation suffocated him. His son, Aric, had led the hunt alongside the other men of the village. They were few, but they all knew how to navigate the forest. However, an entire day had passed since they left, and there was no sign of them. The silence of waiting was beginning to tear at his mind.

The village leader felt the weight of his responsibilities as a father and protector. His thoughts inevitably returned to the bodies of the three children. The images of their crushed heads still refused to fade, as if the very shadows of the night had absorbed that evil. Who could do such a thing to innocent children? He clenched his fists. It wasn't natural. Nothing in this village was more terrifying than the sense of helplessness in the face of such violence.

Throughout the night, unease took over the village. People gathered in their cabins, whispering about what had happened to the hunters. The only sound in the streets was the murmurs of fear. They were a poor village, forgotten by the kingdom, isolated deep within the forest that belonged to Baron Valerith. Little trade reached them, and the constant threat of wild animals kept them in a constant state of alert.

Berengar sighed. It was time to act. He knew that tranquility was slipping away, and the fear that something even worse was coming consumed him. It was then that, suddenly, a man entered through the slightly open door of his cabin, interrupting his thoughts.

"We need to form a search party, we can't wait any longer, leader!" Garlan's voice, one of the oldest villagers, sounded frantic. His hands trembled slightly, but his eyes burned with determination.

Berengar looked at him, staying calm, and said in a deep voice, "Calm down, Garlan. In this darkness, going out now will only bring more danger. We need a strategy."

Garlan didn't seem satisfied, but he stepped back, respecting the command. "But what are we going to do, Berengar? The fear is growing… I see it in their eyes. We can't wait any longer."

The village leader didn't respond immediately. He knew Garlan was right. Fear had already spread through the small village streets, and each passing minute without action seemed to increase the risk. He looked at the sky, where the darkness still reigned, but the first light of dawn was beginning to touch the horizon.

"When the sun rises, we'll form the search party," Berengar said, his voice now firmer, conveying the authority that had been lacking in recent days. "But we need to be prepared for whatever we find in the forest. We don't know who or what is hunting our people."

Garlan nodded, although the fear was still evident in his face. Berengar turned to the back of the cabin, where an old map of the region was pinned to the wall. The village was in the Baron's territory, but the Baron cared little for this forgotten piece of the forest. They were on their own.

When the first ray of sunlight touched the treetops, Berengar knew it was time.

The village leader looked intently at Garlan, weighing his words. The silence of the cabin seemed to expand, as if the forest itself was waiting for the decision.

"Garlan, if you gather all the men of the village to form the party, how many can you gather?" Berengar asked, his voice deep but filled with weary authority.

Garlan hesitated, looking around the cabin, as if counting the people there in his mind. When he finally responded, his expression was one of concern.

"About twenty, maybe. But..." he hesitated, his voice low, almost a whisper. "If we gather all the men, only women and children will be left in the village. They... can't defend themselves."

Berengar remained silent for a moment, his hands clenching into fists. He knew Garlan was right. But the reality of the situation forced them to act, even if it was risky.

"Do it. Gather the men," Berengar said finally, his voice firm despite the weight of the decision. "They won't go far, and we can manage without you here for a few hours."

Garlan nodded without saying anything more and quickly moved away, leaving the cabin to carry out his order. The village leader was left alone for a moment, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the hearth, feeling the weight of responsibility crush him even more.

Shortly afterward, the village men were gathered, ready to depart. With a calculated motion, Berengar watched them move away, their silhouettes distorting as they entered the forest.

Meanwhile, between the trees, three archers watched from their strategic positions.

The village men advanced through the forest, their boots muffling the sound of dry leaves beneath their feet. The dense vegetation swallowed the sound of their voices, leaving only the distant rustling of branches and the buzzing of insects around them. The air was humid and heavy, laden with the smell of wet earth and moss.

Garlan led the group, his spear tightly held, eyes alert to every movement in the trees around them. Behind him, the other men followed cautiously, some murmuring quietly, others in complete silence. Fear still hung in the air, but the need to act kept them moving.

"I'm not seeing anything, no tracks, no signs of whoever attacked the hunters…" said Torin, one of the oldest in the group, his voice rough and anxious. He shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. If they came this way, they should have left some sign. Wild boar tracks are easy to identify."

Garlan looked at him, but didn't respond immediately. He was thinking. Something wasn't adding up. The boar tracks, which usually appeared quickly on the soft ground, were strangely absent. Instead, the ground was clean, almost as if someone had carefully wiped the trail.

"Let's move further ahead," Garlan said, his voice determined, though discomfort was evident in his eyes. "If they're here, we'll find them."

The forest seemed to close in on them as they moved forward, the tree trunks rising like sentinels, further obscuring the little light that the dawn provided. Each step seemed to echo louder than the last, and the air began to weigh down with growing tension.

"This isn't normal," murmured Elric, one of the younger men, his face furrowed. "The forest has never been this quiet. Even the birds aren't singing."

"The quietness is part of the threat," Garlan responded, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. "We can't trust anything here. If someone is doing this, they know how to hide."

Torin stopped for a moment, lowering his spear and examining the ground around him. His fingers ran over the broken branches and crushed leaves, but there was nothing significant.

"I heard the hunters talk about an ambush, something unnatural. I don't know if it's good or bad that we're here," he said, his voice low, almost like a warning. "I don't trust this forest."

Garlan looked at him, his eyes narrowing. The fear was palpable, but there was no time to hesitate. They were there to bring the hunters back, or at least find out what had happened to them.

Suddenly, the sound of something breaking ahead made them stop. A branch cracked, followed by a faint rustling noise. The men readied themselves, positioning into formation. Garlan raised his hand, signaling for everyone to stop and remain silent.

"Was it the wind?" Elric asked in a low voice, but his gaze was fixed, searching among the shadows.

There was no immediate response. The wind, which had seemed calm before, now carried a soft whisper, as if the forest itself was breathing.

Then, a dark shape moved in the distance, almost invisible between the trees. The men immediately huddled, weapons in hand, waiting.

Garlan took a step forward, his eyes trying to identify what had moved. But before he could make any move, the sound of nature around them intensified abruptly, as if the forest had become an immense field of tension, waiting for the right moment to unleash its fury.

"Stay silent," Garlan ordered, his voice as soft as the breeze. He felt cold sweat running down his forehead, but he didn't take his eyes off the area ahead. Something was about to happen.