The cave looked like a beast with its mouth open wide—dark, quiet, and kind of… waiting.

  Ramon stood at the entrance, gripping his spear. He felt torn.

  Go in.

  He’d come this far. Every fight had made him stronger. Whatever was inside the cave might be important—another piece of power, another secret worth having. He wanted to know. He really did.

  Turn back.

  He’d already found something—the strange scroll from the hut. Even though he couldn’t read it yet, it felt valuable. Going in now might just get him killed. Maybe it was smarter to wait.

  He let out a long breath.

  The cave almost felt alive, like it was breathing slow and deep.

  “No rush,” he muttered. “I don’t even know what I’ve got yet.”

  He turned around.

  Each step away felt weird—like the cave didn’t want to let him go. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t look back.

  Ramon left the Black Castle the same way he entered—through that big, echoing hall. One blink later, he was standing back under the cloudy sky of Virelya, deep in the Redwood Forest.

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  It felt lighter out here. Less heavy.

  He made his way back to a small clearing near the edge of the forest. A simple wooden shelter sat between some mossy rocks and tall trees.

  The old Ramon had built it.

  It wasn’t much—just a roof and some dry ground—but it was safe. And quiet.

  Ramon dropped his things, sat down, and let himself breathe. The air smelled like wet bark and fresh leaves. Birds chirped in the distance. For a moment, things felt almost… normal.

  Over the next few days, he kept to the outskirts of the forest. No big risks, just hunting smaller beasts—ones with good fur, strong bones, or parts worth selling. The work was simple. Peaceful, even. It helped him clear his head after everything that happened in the Castle.

  He spent his free time sharpening his spear and trying to make sense of the scroll.

  But the scroll was strange. The writing on it seemed to shift if he stared too long—like it didn’t want to be read. Still, he felt something from it. Like it was waiting. Like it wanted to be understood.

  But not yet.

  He’d need help. Maybe from someone in the city. Or better yet, the sect’s library—if he could ever get in.

  After about a week, he packed up and headed back toward the city. His satchel was full of beast parts. His hood was pulled low.

  When he reached the gates, the guards let him through without much trouble this time. One of them even nodded.

  He went straight to the alley market where he’d sold goods before.

  The twitchy, half-bald merchant spotted him right away and waved like an old friend.

  “Hey! You’re back! Let’s see what you’ve got this time!”

  Ramon didn’t say much. He just dropped the satchel on the table.

  The merchant’s eyes lit up as he checked the goods—thick pelts, sharp fangs, and bottles of beast blood.

  “Oh, this is good. Very good,” the man said, nodding. “Been busy, huh?”

  Ramon just said, “Give me a fair price.”

  The merchant laughed. “Of course! Always fair, always fair.”

  A few minutes later, Ramon walked off with a heavy pouch of silver tied to his belt.

  As the sky started turning orange and purple, Ramon headed back toward the inn. The lights of the Outer District glowed soft and warm ahead of him.

  He didn’t notice the four men who slipped out of the alley behind him.

  Didn’t hear the merchant whisper to a figure in the shadows, “He’s carrying silver. Follow him. Wait till he’s alone.”

  He didn’t see the eyes watching him from rooftops and dark corners.

  He just thought about food, about sleep, about maybe getting a real bath for once.

  The scroll sat hidden in his bag.

  Tomorrow, he’d try to figure it out.

  Tonight, he just wanted rest.

  And behind him… the shadows followed.