As dawn broke, the camp stirred to life. The knights moved through the rows of tents, their voices rising above the early morning silence like sharp-edged commands, rousing the camp with swift precision. Sunlight began filtering through the thick trees surrounding them, casting long, jagged shadows that danced across the ground. A gentle chill lingered in the air, the last whispers of the night clinging stubbornly, even as the warmth of the new day waited just beyond the horizon.

The mercenaries, still groggy from the night, started their morning routines. Around the central fire, a few of them had taken on the responsibility of cooking—thick porridge and slabs of roasted meat. The delicious scent of food filled the clearing, mingling with the damp earth and fresh greenery. All around him, others were preparing in their own ways: some knelt to sharpen their swords with steady, rhythmic strokes, while others shared tales and laughter, forming a lively soundtrack to the camp’s awakening.

A short distance away, clerics from the Church of Altia had gathered, their white robes fluttering softly in the breeze. In a silent, circular formation, they bowed their heads in prayer, their voices barely above a murmur. The elder clerics, draped in gold-trimmed robes, led the younger initiates through rites of blessing and protection, their solemn incantations echoing faintly against the trees. Ray couldn’t help but notice the anxious expressions on the young clerics’ faces as they clutched their prayer beads, their eyes betraying a deep unease about the path that lay ahead.

Across the camp, Nio was already up to his usual antics. His bright laughter rang out like a cheerful bell as he teased a group of mercenaries, drawing grins and chuckles from those nearby. “That’s supposed to be a sword?” he exclaimed dramatically, brandishing his own blade. “I’ve seen sharper butter knives!” The others laughed, his energy lightening the mood in a way only Nio could manage.

Ray, watching quietly from a distance, felt his lips curve into a slight smile, though his heart was heavy with the weight of worry. He admired Nio’s ability to lighten any situation, but he also knew all too well the dangers that lay ahead, dangers that could turn laughter into silence all too easily.

As the sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over the camp, Ray took a moment to survey his surroundings. The forest was a towering wall of ancient trees, their thick branches twisting overhead as though guarding some hidden secret. The leaves rustled faintly in the wind, whispering messages that seemed meant for Ray alone. He inhaled deeply, savoring the earthy, grounding scent of the forest mixed with the faint smoke from the campfire.

Feeling an inexplicable urgency, Ray moved toward Nio, weaving through the busy camp as knights strapped on their armor and mercenaries checked their supplies. Finally reaching him, Ray took hold of Nio’s arm, pulling him aside and away from the others.

“What’s with the sudden seriousness?” Nio asked, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

“We need to talk,” Ray replied, his tone urgent. He guided Nio toward the edge of the forest, stepping into the shadows cast by the towering trees. The laughter and camaraderie of the camp quickly faded as they entered the cool, still depths of the forest. It was as if the trees were listening, their thick branches arching over them, enclosing them in a cocoon of silence.

Ray led Nio deeper into the trees, where the ground was soft with layers of moss and fallen leaves, muffling their footsteps. The air felt heavier here, carrying a chill that prickled against their skin, contrasting sharply with the lightheartedness of moments before.

“Ray, what’s going on?” Nio’s laughter had vanished, replaced by a look of confusion. The usual glint in his eyes dulled as he sensed the gravity in Ray’s gaze.

Ray swallowed hard, his words catching in his throat. “It’s real,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “The demon you talked about—it’s real.” His voice shook, betraying the fear that he could no longer hide.

Nio’s expression turned serious, the playful mask falling away as he frowned in concern. “What are you talking about?

Ray exhaled, his breath shallow. “I saw it. Heard it. Fighting monsters is one thing, but… a demon? We aren’t ready for this. We should turn back while we still can.”

Nio looked away, his gaze fixed on the ground. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought before he spoke, his voice barely audible. “I can’t turn back,” he admitted.

“Why not?” Ray’s frustration flared. “What could possibly be worth risking your life?”

Nio’s gaze met Ray's, a heavy shame evident in his eyes. “I’m in debt, Ray. The Black Wolf Gang is after me. I gambled more than I could afford, and if I don’t pay them back…” His voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.

Ray’s anger rose, tinged with despair. “You’re gambling with your life, Nio! This isn’t just reckless—it’s suicide!”

“Don’t worry about me!” Nio’s voice was sharp, yet desperate. “If you want to leave, go ahead. But I can’t. Not now.”

Ray sighed, torn between frustration and concern. Deep down, he knew he couldn’t abandon his friend, not after everything they had been through. “Fine,” he said at last, his tone softening. “But you need to be more careful.”

As they turned to head back to camp, Ray's instincts prickled. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement—something dark shifting among the trees, just beyond the clearing where they had spoken. He paused, his heart racing, but when he looked again, there was nothing.

“ Ray?” Nio noticed his sudden stillness. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you see that?” Ray whispered, scanning the shadows.

“See what?” Nio replied, his playful demeanour returning, though a hint of concern lingered.

“Never mind,” Ray said, shaking off the unease. “Let’s just get back.”