VILLAGE

The fire had long since faded to embers when dawn tiptoed over the Highlands. Mist clung to the ground, wrapping around jagged rocks and gnarled roots.

The air felt heavier than before, as if the mountain was keeping a watchful eye on their every move.

Shimei was the first to stir. He stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.

For a brief moment, he looked like any other nine-year-old boy waking up too early. But then his expression shifted, hardening as he scanned the horizon. “It’s quieter than yesterday. Too quiet.”

B’shara fastened her blades to her waist. “Good. Fewer things to kill before breakfast.”

Jett yawned. “Or maybe they’re all just waiting for us. Monsters aren’t exactly dumb around here.”

Ilan stood at the cave’s entrance, his blind eyes fixed on the fog. “The wind carries whispers. We’re not alone.”

The group set off, the path winding down through a ravine where the mist was thickest. Every step echoed oddly, as if the mountain itself was breathing beneath their feet.

Then—snap.

A jagged arm of stone shot up from the ground, nearly skewering Jett where he stood. He cursed and jumped back just as more stone limbs clawed upward, twisting into rough humanoid shapes.

Golems. Born from the mountain itself.

B’shara grinned, her blades flashing into her hands. “Finally! Something to wake me up.”

“Don’t get careless,” Shimei said softly. He stepped forward, small and unassuming, but the air around him seemed to sharpen. His hand rested lightly on Yoshiinune’s hilt.

The nearest golem roared, a sound like grinding rock, and charged. Shimei didn’t even fully draw his weapon—just a half-motion.

The golem’s head rolled cleanly from its shoulders.

The others hesitated, their rocky bodies trembling under an unfamiliar sensation: fear.

Shimei’s lips curled into a faint, almost innocent smile. “Keep walking,” he said, turning his back on them.

B’shara blinked. “Wait—you’re just leaving them?”

“They’re already dead,” Shimei replied without glancing back.

As he stepped past, the remaining golems...crumbled to dust, collapsing into piles of rubble as if they had been judged by the very essence of his speech.

A silence, thicker than before, enveloped the ravine.

Jett let out a low whistle. “Just a reminder: never call you short again.”

Shimei stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the mist ahead. For a fleeting moment, the playful facade faded, revealing the emperor within who murmured: This mountain dares to defy me… I will crush it.

He let out a puff of air, cheeks bulging like a sulky child, and bounded ahead. “Let’s go! I’m starving.”

The others exchanged knowing looks and followed suit.

Yet, the air remained dense, and the sun above was already bleeding a deep red into the clouds. The Crimson Moon was drawing closer.

The four of them strolled down the dirt path, surrounded by the lively sounds of cicadas buzzing in the forest. Shimei playfully kicked a pebble ahead, watching it bounce along the ground.

B’shara stretched her arms with a yawn. “Ugh, are we there yet?”

“You’ve asked that seven times in the last hour,” Jett replied flatly, not bothering to look her way.

“Actually, it’s eight,” Shimei chimed in with a cheeky grin.

B’shara turned to him, squinting. “You keeping track?”

“I’m keeping track of everything,” Shimei said with a smug smile. “Like how many times you’ve yawned—fourteen. How many times Jett has sighed—twenty-three. And how many times Ilan almost tripped—”

“I did not almost trip!” Ilan shot back, his face turning red.

Shimei tilted his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh really? So when you caught your foot on that root back there, you were just… showing off your dance moves?”

Jett let out a quiet chuckle, while B’shara nearly doubled over with laughter. “Oh no, the mighty Ilan, defeated by a tree root!”

“Go ahead and laugh,” Ilan grumbled, crossing his arms. “One day when I save your lives, I’ll be sure to remind you of this.”

“Sure,” Shimei said, flicking another pebble down the path. “But until then, I’ll keep a record of every time you nearly faceplant.”

B’shara leaned in closer, whispering dramatically, “Watch out, Ilan. He’s compiling a book of your embarrassing moments.”

Their laughter rang out through the peaceful forest as they continued on their way.

The four of them strolled along the rugged path, their playful banter light yet steady. For the first time in days, laughter sliced through the biting winds.

“B’shara, you trip over rocks more than you swing those blades of yours,” Jett joked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Better to trip than to whine like an old goat every mile,” she shot back, giving him a playful elbow.

Shimei chuckled softly, while Ilan smiled quietly from the back.

But then, the atmosphere shifted.

Jett halted mid-step, his keen eyes narrowing at the horizon. “…Do you see that?”

Nestled in a shallow valley between the towering ridges was a cluster of wooden huts, their chimneys devoid of smoke.

They descended cautiously, their boots crunching on the frostbitten ground. As they entered the village, the stench hit them first—decay, illness, and hunger.

Shimei’s expression turned grim. Bodies lay crumpled against doorways, thin and skeletal. Others slumped against walls, their eyes hollow, still breathing but barely clinging to life. Children clung to their mothers, their faces drawn and gaunt.

“This… this can’t be real,” B’shara whispered, covering her mouth in shock. “How are people even surviving up here?”

“They shouldn’t be,” Jett replied darkly. “The Highlands aren’t suitable for farming. No trade routes. Nothing.”

Shimei knelt beside one of the fallen. His hand hovered just above the corpse’s face. “…Starvation.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

“Then how have they managed to survive this long?” Ilan asked softly, his voice trembling.

The question hung in the air like a thick cloud of smoke.

Shimei scanned the village, his gaze finally landing on a figure a man, surprisingly steady on his feet, making his way toward them at a slow pace.

Unlike the others, he didn’t seem to be on the brink of collapse. He was thin but stood tall, and his eyes had a sharpness to them.

“Looks like someone isn’t fading away…” Shimei murmured as she rose to her feet.

The man halted a few steps away, tilting his head slightly. A smirk played on his lips, somewhere between a friendly grin and a cautionary gesture.

“You really shouldn’t be here.”

The man shook with fear as Shimei, Jett, Ilan, and B’shara drew near. His clothes hung in tatters, his skin stretched tight over his bones, and his eyes flickered around like a scared animal.

At first, he shook his head, weakly waving them off with trembling hands.

“Go… go before it finds you too…” he croaked.

Jett crouched down, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Finds us? What do you mean? We just want to know what happened here.”

The man hid his face, mumbling to himself, “No, no, if I say anything… it’ll know. It always knows…”

B’shara knelt beside him, her voice softer than usual.

“We’re not here to harm you. Look at me. If you share what you know, maybe we can help.”

For a long moment, the villager just shivered, his cracked lips quivering. Then, as if a dam had burst within him, he slumped against the wall and whispered hoarsely.

“This village was once thriving… fields of grain, cattle, families laughing by the fire. Then the rains stopped. The soil turned to dust. The food spoiled before we could eat it. At first, we thought it was a curse, but then… people started to vanish.”

He looked up at them with empty eyes.

“The strong left in search of food. They never returned. The weak starved where they stood. Soon, all that was left were bones and whispers. And now—”

His voice faltered, dropping to a terrified whisper.

“…now something roams the highlands at night. It takes what little life remains. No one lasts long enough to fight it.

The group exchanged nervous glances, a sense of unease hanging in the air.

Ilan's brow furrowed.

“So, the poverty was just the start… something else is feeding off it.”

With unexpected strength, the villager seized Shimei’s wrist, his eyes wide with fear.

“You shouldn’t have come here. If you linger too long… you’ll never escape.”

The four of them huddled together, their voices dropping to hushed tones as if they were about to strategize for an epic showdown. But in reality… they were just freaking out.

B’shara crossed her arms, looking frustrated. “So… the whole village is starving, people are dying in their homes, and we’re supposed to… what? Just wave a magic wand?”

Jett rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think. “Maybe we could go hunting? At least some meat would buy them a little time.”

Ilan raised a finger with a flourish. “Perfect! I’m a pro at hunting.”

They all turned to give him a look.

“…Since when?” Shimei asked, her tone flat.

Ilan cleared his throat, trying to sound confident. “Since this very moment. Come on, how hard can it be? You spot an animal, you stab it. Simple as that.”

B’shara let out a groan. “This is going to end in chaos.”

The group ventured into the nearby woods, and it didn’t take long for things to go sideways.

Ilan, trying to keep it down but failing: “Shhh, you’re going to scare the prey away!”

Jett: “You’re practically shouting ‘shhh’!”

B’shara: facepalms

They finally caught sight of a rabbit. It was small and scrawny, but hey, it was still dinner.

Ilan grinned and crouched low. “This is it. Just watch and learn.”

He lunged forward… and the rabbit simply sidestepped him. Ilan ended up face-first in the dirt.

Jett: “…Wow, blind boy. The rabbit just dodged you.”
Shimei: “Impressive. That rabbit’s got better reflexes than you do.”
B’shara: laughing so hard she nearly topples over

Next up was Jett. He actually managed to throw a rock and hit a squirrel. But instead of running away, the squirrel just glared at him with pure rage and then chased him through the trees.

B’shara, tears streaming from laughter: “The mighty hunter… taken down by a squirrel.”
Shimei, smirking: “Should we rescue him, or let nature take its course?”

Finally, Shimei sighed, pulled out Yoshiinune, and with one swift motion, took down a wild boar that had wandered into their path. The others stood frozen, completely stunned.

Ilan: “…That’s cheating.”
B’shara: “Nope. That’s just skill. Something you clearly don’t have.”
Jett, still covered in scratches: “At least I softened it up for him.”

They hauled the boar back to the village, and the sight of it made the starving villagers' eyes light up with relief and gratitude. For a fleeting moment, the weight of their struggles seemed to lift.

Ilan, puffing out his chest with pride, declared, “Ladies and gentlemen, you can thank me for this incredible hunt.”

But B’shara quickly pushed him aside. “You stumbled over your own feet. Just sit down before I trip you again.”

Shimei chuckled, but his gaze remained sharp. Even amidst the laughter, he couldn’t shake off the heaviness of what the villager had mentioned. Something had transformed this place from ordinary to devastated, and they were on the brink of uncovering the truth.