The Wildwood didn't breathe.It seethed.
Even in victory, even as Ken and his misfit crew stood there — bloody, bruised, high on the shaky adrenaline of survival — the forest watched.It hungered.
Ken slid the amulet into his satchel, feeling the faint hum of old, slumbering power against his ribs. He didn't trust it. He didn't trust anything in this cursed forest. Honestly, he barely trusted Riven to tie his own shoes without causing a minor disaster.
"Alright," Ken said, voice low, trying to sound like he had a plan. (Spoiler: he did not.) "We need to move. Fast."
"Yeah," Riven groaned, wiping blood — whose blood? unclear — from his cheek. "Preferably somewhere with less death-boar energy."
Elysia nodded, still pale but steady. "We shouldn't stay. The Wildwood doesn't like noise. It listens."
"Yeah," Lysa muttered, eyes scanning the tree line like a hawk about to snap a mouse in half. "And it invites company."
She wasn't wrong.
The trees shifted — no, they shivered — and a cold, wrong wind swept through the clearing.Ken's instincts, those old, battered things sharpened by more betrayals than birthdays, screamed one thing loud and clear:
RUN.
"Move!" he barked.
No one argued.(Shocking, really. Progress!)
They bolted into the woods, weaving through the skeletal trees. Branches clawed at them like skeletal hands, greedy to snag cloaks, boots, hearts. Shadows blurred and thickened. And always — always — there was that feeling.Eyes.Watching.Waiting.
"Ken," Riven panted beside him, voice tight, "please tell me you know where we're going."
Ken flicked him a look. "Define 'know.'"
"Define 'I'm gonna kill you first if we die!'"
Somewhere behind them, something shrieked — not an animal sound. Not natural. It was the kind of noise that made your soul want to unzip itself and flee.
"Faster!" Elysia urged, her hands flickering with magic ready to shield them.
They burst out of the thicker woods and stumbled onto a thin, muddy trail. Not exactly salvation, but hey — Ken would take 'sketchy footpath of doom' over 'eaten alive by forest cryptids' any day.
The amulet in his pack pulsed again. Stronger. Hungrier.
Ken's gut twisted. This thing wasn't just a relic. It was bait.And they were the fish.
"Incoming!" Lysa hissed.
Ahead, the trail forked — one path narrow and overgrown, one wide and worn. Easy decision, right? Wide path = safer?
Wrong.
Because standing in the middle of the wide road were three figures. Cloaked. Hooded. Their faces hidden behind smooth masks carved from wood, painted in haunting whites and reds.
Ken slowed, instinct dragging at his heels.
The figures didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Not friendlies, his brain screamed.
"We take the narrow path," he ordered, without hesitating.
"But—" Riven started.
Ken shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Unless you wanna end up as forest jerky, move."
They ducked into the overgrown path, thorns tearing at them, roots snatching at boots. Behind them, the masked figures tilted their heads in eerie unison... then started walking.
Not running.
Just walking.
As if they knew.
Knew they didn't have to rush.Knew the forest would do the work for them.
Ken's blood ran colder than the Wildwood's breath.
This is bigger than Alistair told us, he thought grimly.Way bigger.
The path finally spat them out onto a hill overlooking Velden Academy. The sight of the towering stone walls, the spires, the banners fluttering in the afternoon sun — it should've brought relief.
Instead, it just made Ken's heart pound harder.
Because standing at the gates, waiting for them with a casual smirk, was Principal Alistair.
Like he'd known exactly when they'd arrive.
Like he'd planned for them to be chased.
Like this was all some grand, twisted test.
Riven collapsed onto the grass, gasping for air. "I swear... if that old man says 'Congratulations'... I'm throwing him into the Wildwood myself."
Elysia was trembling, trying to hide it. Lysa didn't bother hiding it — she just looked pissed.
Ken tightened his grip on the amulet.
The bonds they were forging weren't born out of friendship.They were forged out of survival.Out of blood, fear, and fire.
And somewhere deep inside, he knew:This was only the beginning.
There were bigger monsters than boar-wolves waiting for them.
Monsters wearing masks.Monsters hiding behind banners.Monsters pretending to be saviors.
The real test wasn't surviving the Wildwood.It was surviving Velden Academy itself.
And Ken wasn't sure if even all the loyalty in the world would be enoug