The night in the forest was calm.
Too calm.
The holy knights stationed nearby, tasked with the secret mission of watching over Asrial and Theresia during their survival test, were huddled around a crackling campfire.
Sir Damian, their captain, leaned against a fallen log, chewing lazily on a piece of dried meat. His grey eyes reflected the fire's glow as he listened to his men chatter.
"Did you see the way young Lord Arthur watches the young lady?" one knight teased, poking the fire with a stick.
"Oh, he's completely smitten," another chuckled, polishing his blade. "They're like the main characters in some bard's love song."
Damian smirked, his rough voice cutting through their amusement. "Don't let Sir Leonhard hear you say that. He'd probably impale you on the spot."
The group laughed.
It was rare to find moments of lightness in times like these, especially when dealing with something as dangerous as the Church of the Broken God. Yet here, in the stillness of the night, they found comfort in each other's company.
"Do you think they'll really make it to the academy?" a younger knight asked, resting his chin on his fist.
Damian nodded, staring into the fire. "If anyone can survive the academy's political hell, it's those two. They've got something the nobles and the schemers don't."
"And what's that?" the younger knight tilted his head.
"Purpose," Damian said simply.
But his words were soon swallowed by an eerie shift in the air.
The wind stilled.
The chirping of insects faded.
The warmth of the campfire suddenly felt distant, like the heat was being drained from the world.
Damian's gaze snapped up to the sky as an ominous sound rumbled above them.
Hooooowl…
It was deep, ancient, and wrong.
A howl not belonging to any earthly beast.
The knights followed his gaze—and their hearts stopped.
The full white moon… was disappearing.
Piece by piece, something massive gnawed at its edge—a silhouette of a colossal wolf biting into the moon itself.
The sky darkened unnaturally fast. The stars vanished. The light died.
A suffocating black veil descended upon the forest.
"Formation! Everyone, on me!" Damian shouted, drawing his sword.
But the fire sputtered and died in an instant, leaving them stranded in complete darkness.
"Where's the light?!" someone cried, panic creeping into their voice.
Damian cursed under his breath. "Stay calm! Stay—"
Hooooowl…
The sound came from the ground this time.
The earth trembled as a wolf stepped into the dying embers of their camp.
It wasn't the giant beast they'd seen in the sky, but it was still enormous—its fur pitch-black, its eyes glowing an infernal crimson.
Damian's grip tightened on his sword. "Get ready—"
But before the knights could react further, the shadows beneath their feet rippled—like puddles disturbed by a stone.
The shadows stretched unnaturally, climbing their bodies, coiling around their legs like living chains.
Suddenly, a voice emerged from the darkness—calm, smooth, and laced with malice.
"Such diligent knights. I must commend you for your devotion."
A figure materialized from the suffocating gloom, as if stepping out from the air itself.
A man in a flowing black cloak, his black hair neatly slicked back, his sharp purple eyes shimmering with amusement.
His smile was subtle but chilling.
"My apologies for the theatrics. But you see, I'm on quite the tight schedule."
Damian aimed his blade at him. "Name yourself, heretic!"
The man placed a hand over his chest and bowed slightly. "Ah, yes. Formalities."
He straightened and locked eyes with Damian.
"I am the Shadow King. Second bishop of the Church of the Broken God."
The knights' faces paled.
"The bishops…" one whispered, terror creeping into his bones. "They're real?"
Damian grit his teeth. "I thought your existence was a myth."
The Shadow King chuckled softly. "Oh, we exist. We've always existed. You were simply… too blind to see us."
His gaze drifted lazily across the terrified knights. "You were tasked to protect the boy and the young lady, yes? How noble."
His hand twitched slightly.
The shadows coiling around the knights snapped taut like vipers.
"Unfortunately, I can't have you interfering."
CRACK!
One knight let out a blood-curdling scream as his shadow twisted, contorting his body unnaturally until his spine snapped and his limbs bent backward.
The others panicked, swinging their swords at their own shadows in desperation.
"Stay off the ground! Get to the trees!" Damian barked.
But as they leaped, the shadows clung to them like black leeches, dragging them down.
"Don't let him control you! Disperse your elemental energy—"
But the Shadow King flicked his fingers again.
One by one, the knights' bodies convulsed and exploded, twisted apart by their own shadows, painting the trees with crimson splatter.
Damian roared, mustering his last surge of power, his blade burning with pure elemental energy.
But the Shadow King was faster.
He raised his hand lazily, and Damian's shadow split from his feet—its hands shooting upward, grabbing his arms and yanking him into a brutal, bone-crunching twist.
Damian's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, motionless.
The wolf stepped forward, its fangs bared.
The Shadow King ran his fingers through its fur, his smile calm and satisfied.
"My queen will be delighted by this little appetizer."
His gaze lifted toward the direction of Asrial's camp, his eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.
"But the main course… oh, that's reserved for last."
The shadows consumed him and his beast, vanishing into the night as if they were never there.
Silence returned.
But the forest would remember the terror that walked its soil that night.
---
Elsewhere, the black wolf gathered strength, preparing to deliver the Shadow King's message—to hunt, to chase, and to bring despair to the one they sought… the boy named Asrial