Chapter 19: Dark Forest

Alicarde and Argint plunged into the dark forest, their senses heightened as every sound and shadow became a potential clue. The dense foliage and eerie stillness of the night made him feel uneasy.

The forest had a twisted maze of roots and gnarled trees, menacing shadows cast under the pale slivers of moonlight that managed to pierce through the thick canopy.

Argint moved swiftly, her fiery red hair a vivid contrast against the dark backdrop of the forest. Her amber eyes glowed with cold silver light as she tracked the scent from the black arrow. Alicarde stayed close behind, his mind racing with thoughts of Carrisa and Amena, his concern for them eclipsing all other fears.

They moved in silence, the only sounds being the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant crackling of the fire they had left behind. The forest seemed to close in around them, the oppressive darkness almost tangible. Alicarde's heart pounded in his chest as he followed Argint deeper into the woods, refusing to entertain the idea that they might be too late.

"I've picked up their trail," Argint whispered, her voice stern. "This way."

They followed the faint scent, weaving through trees and underbrush. Their pace quickened as they grew more certain of the direction. Alicarde's resolve hardened with every step. He couldn't afford to lose anyone—not after everything he'd been through. He would make sure of it.

Suddenly, they came to a stop in the middle of a clearing. Argint halted, looking around with a frown before she began to circle the area. Her movements were increasingly frantic.

"I've lost the scent," she said, her words sending a chill down Alicarde's spine.

"What... What do you mean you lost the scent?" Alicarde asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Exactly what it sounds like. I lost the scent," Argint replied, frustration creeping into her voice.

Alicarde's breath caught in his throat as he forced himself to remain calm. They couldn't afford to lose their way now. He looked around the clearing, his mind racing for a solution. They had to do something—anything—but no immediate signs of Carrisa or Amena were evident.

"They must have erased their scent," Argint speculated, her voice more controlled now. "My guess is they're assassins, using a method commonly employed in the Demiplane."

Alicarde swallowed hard, pushing down the rising panic.

"Let's head deeper into the forest," he suggested, his voice low and determined.

Argint nodded, and they resumed their search, moving silently through the trees. The forest became even darker as they ventured further in, the air thick with anticipation and the occasional eerie call of nocturnal creatures.

After several minutes of tense silence, Alicarde noticed Argint sneaking glances at him. Her unusual demeanor didn't escape his attention.

"What is it? Something on your mind?" he asked, glancing over at her.

Argint hesitated for a moment before she spoke.

"I know this isn't the time, but... I wanted to thank you for carrying on my brother's mantle. Thank you for allowing him to die with his honor." She took a deep breath, her voice softening.

"And... I forgive you for killing my brother. I don't know if I should feel grateful or not, but... I forgive you, and I also wanted to thank you for agreeing to my promise. So, if nothing else, let's start with a clean slate as... as friends." Her voice faltered slightly at the end, the admission clearly difficult for her.

Alicarde stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. Her words resonated deep within him, lifting a weight that had burdened his heart since that fateful day. The darkness that had clung to him, feeding on his guilt, began to fade. He felt free—liberated in a way he hadn't thought possible.

Argint extended her hand, offering a handshake as a symbol of their newfound friendship. Alicarde accepted without hesitation, and as their hands clasped, Argint's lips curled into a smile, one that was breathtaking in its sincerity.

"Alright, let's go find the princess. And..." She trailed off, her expression shifting as something occurred to her. "Wait, why are we even... No, why am I even sniffing around?"

Alicarde looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Hey, use your pact to find her," she suggested, her tone almost casual.

"Pact... What pact? I don't understand what you're talking about," Alicarde replied, his confusion deepening.

"What I mean is the pact she formed with you on the day she made you undying. You know, special magic lights... soul connections... that kind of stuff," Argint explained, her voice tinged with surprise.

Alicarde shook his head. "Nothing of that sort happened. We didn't do any of that. This is the first I'm even hearing of it. Carrisa certainly didn't mention it."

Argint blinked, clearly taken aback.

"What is a pact, anyway?" Alicarde asked, genuinely curious now.

She sighed, realizing he truly had no idea.

"Fine, whatever, I'll tell you. So listen. A pact is a type of supernatural contract that binds the souls of the entities involved. There are five types of pacts that I know of. The first is the binding pact, which allows an individual to bind an entity of their creation to themselves, kind of like a slave. They can't disobey the one who binds them."

Alicarde listened intently as Argint explained. The concept was new to him, but as she spoke, pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. 'Come to think of it, didn't I go rushing to find Carrisa when I woke up in a morgue?' he mused silently.

"The second pact is a subordination pact, which is more or less between a lord and their vassal. It is less dangerous to the soul of the lord. It gives a high degree of freedom, but the vassal is still obligated to obey the lord. Although if the vassal is the one asking for such a contract, it's usually followed with them making an offering, a gift, or something to show their sincerity."

"The third pact is the familiar pact. This is a type of pact where you bind your soul to a familiar and it dwells in your body, soul, or shadow. If the familiar is too powerful, it can resist some orders, although trying to tame a familiar way higher than your pay grade is suicide."

"The fourth type of pact is usually one of equals, also called the equals pact. This type of pact is usually favored by lovers, although these days people don't do so as much. It used to be favored by married couples."

"The fifth is like an arrangement pact, between two or more parties. It's not as closely tied as the others, but it does impose penalties on those who go against the agreed-upon clause."

Alicarde remained silent as Argint finished her explanation. He couldn't help but wonder why Carrisa hadn't tried to enslave him with the first type of pact. Did she really need to go through all the trouble of convincing him and running around the city with him?

As they traveled deeper into the woods, Alicarde's thoughts continued to swirl around the concept of pacts. After what felt like hours of searching, they finally stumbled upon something significant.

Deep in the mountains, they found a village nestled between towering peaks, hidden beneath a thick canopy of large trees. It was so well concealed that they nearly missed it.

As they approached the village, Argint suddenly halted, her nose twitching as she caught a familiar scent.

"Princess," she whispered, her eyes locking with Alicarde's.

Alicarde's hand instinctively went to his sword, which he carried in the guitar case. He was ready to rush in, his anger and desperation fueling him, but Argint grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"Hold your horses, genius," she said, her tone sharp.

Alicarde felt a surge of irritation but managed to rein it in. He knew she was right.

"We need a plan," she continued. "So calm down and let's think of one."

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax.

"Alright, I get it. We need information first. We need to know where they're being kept." His voice was steady, despite the turmoil within.

"First, let's observe the perimeter, figure out the guard stations, locate them, and find a suitable escape route," Argint suggested, her eyes scanning the village below.

Alicarde nodded in agreement, realizing the wisdom in her words. They couldn't afford to act recklessly. The two of them might be outnumbered or facing enemies far stronger than they anticipated. They had to be smart about this.

They moved stealthily, hiding in the foliage and using the trees for cover. They crept through the shadows, suppressing their presence as best they could, hoping to catch sight of Carrisa or Amena.

After three hours of careful observation, they had a rough idea of the village's layout. The village was sparsely guarded, but the guards that were present were formidable. The Night Shades, as Argint called them, were a race of dark elf-like assassins from the Demiplane. Their presence here was unusual and worrying.

As Alicarde's gaze swept over the village, his eyes fell on one of the Night Shades. A dark thought took root in his mind, and despite having just overcome his guilt over killing Beowulf, he felt a burning desire for blood.

If those Night Shades or whatever hurt even a hair on the heads of Carrisa or Amena, he would stop at nothing to slaughter their entire village. As his eyes clouded with killing intent, Argint felt his mana grow and the birth of his nascent fear ability coming into existence. The night was bound to be one of blood.