Meanwhile, in a little town near the border there lies a small camp.

“Captain.” The green-haired knight walks into a tent, where Rowan is sitting at his desk. “We received the report.” He holds up a rolled paper, tied neatly with a ribbon.

“Bring it to me.” Rowan stands, holding out his hand.

The green-haired knight quickly does so.

Rowan unties the ribbon and opens the letter. He reads it carefully as his brow furrows.

“Arthur.” He says to the green-haired man.

“Yes sir?” 

“Prepare Storm. I am going to check this personally." 

“Yessir.” Arthur salutes and leaves quickly.

Rowan reads over the letter again.

One sentence makes his stomach sink. 

‘It is getting bigger.’

He leans against his desk.

"...Dammit."

He lets out a slow and steady breath.

…

Mounting Storm, he turns toward a denser part of the forest. 

As he rides, he notices the leaves on the trees becoming bare.

…

Rowan arrives at a small patch in the forest.

He unmounts Storm and kneels down. 

His hand brushes against the fresh tracks made in the grass.

“They’re still here…” He mutters quietly to himself.

He turns to Storm. “Stay here.” 

Storm snorts, as if to say, “Yessir.”

His attention is drawn to broken branches near the tree.

Slowly, keeping an eye on his surroundings, he follows the trail.

A deep gouge in the side of the tree. 

Claw marks in the tracks. 

…

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

No birds.

No insects.

Nothing. 

After a few minutes, he stops.

…

His gaze drops to an enormous hole in the earth.

Fresh dirt still crumbles from its edges.

Rowan's brow furrows.

"... It's getting bigger."

He kneels, peering into the darkness below.

…

At first...

Nothing.

…

Then...

A low growl rolls up from somewhere beneath him.

Cool air spills from the opening.

A damp breeze stirs his hair.

Rowan's heart does not race.

He calmly draws his sword.