[POV Chloé]

The Whispering Forest did not live up to its name. The deeper we moved into its heart, the silence grew so thick it felt like a scream. Humidity clung to my fur, and the air felt heavy, as though we were walking at the bottom of a swamp filled with stagnant mana. My senses were on full alert. Every time my boots touched a dry leaf, the sound scraped against my nerves—but it was my nose that truly suffered.

The scent of Oakhaven sausages had long since vanished, replaced by a sharp stench that churned my stomach. Sulfur. Rotting flesh. And something sweet—artificial. A perfume that could only belong to the purest black magic.

I raised my hand, and Valerie’s unit stopped instantly.

We were close. Very close.

Stay here. If I move through the shadows, they won’t see me. But if your armor rattles, we’ll be dead before this begins.

Valerie nodded, pale but resolute, signaling her warriors to crouch among the massive ferns. I slipped off my cloak and lowered myself to all fours, gliding through the undergrowth with the natural agility of a wolf.

I climbed a moss-covered rise and carefully peeked over a fallen trunk.

What I saw made the fur along my spine bristle.

Below, in a natural clearing where trees had died and their trunks twisted like pleading hands, stood a camp pulled from a nightmare. It was not just the missing soldiers. The clearing swarmed with demons of every imaginable shape and size. Elongated-limbed ghouls gnawed on human bones. Winged imps fluttered above blue-flamed fires. Elite demonic warriors clad in bone-plated armor stood guard with unsettling discipline.

But the most terrifying sight was not the monsters.

At the center of the clearing, surrounded by a circle of rune-etched stones pulsing with crimson light, stood a woman.

She wore a black robe so dark it seemed to swallow the faint light filtering through the canopy. Her skin was corpse-pale, and her hair—black as a raven’s wing—fell over her shoulders in disordered strands. I could not see her eyes from this distance, but the energy radiating from her was suffocating. It was like staring into a black hole in the fabric of reality.

She stood before a massive stone cauldron, moving her hands in graceful motions as though weaving invisible threads through the air.

That’s the leader, I thought, baring my teeth. If I cut off her head, this entire circus ends.

I calculated the angle for a surprise attack, muscles tightening for a lightning strike—

CRACK.

The snap of a branch beneath a metal boot echoed through the forest like a gunshot.

I spun toward Valerie’s position in horror. One of the younger soldiers had stumbled while shifting her stance, and the sound was enough to draw ten pairs of demonic eyes toward us.

INTRUDERS! roared a demon warrior, his voice grinding like colliding stones.

Damn it! Valerie, attack!

I abandoned stealth and leapt from the rise, claws extended.

The battle erupted instantly.

My claws tore into the throat of the first demon in my path, ripping through flesh and organic metal. Valerie and her unit burst from the foliage like a tide of steel, forming a defensive wedge that began cutting through demons with astonishing precision. Despite the ambush, Whirikal’s elite proved their worth—silver light shimmered along their blades as they carved through ghoul flesh.

Protect the flanks! Don’t let them surround us! Valerie commanded, her voice ringing with authority as she decapitated a winged demon diving toward her archers.

I became a whirlwind of fur and fury. I leapt from enemy to enemy, using speed to disorient them. A massive demon swung a bone axe at me, but I slid beneath its legs, shredded its tendons, then vaulted onto its back and sank my fangs into its neck. Its blood tasted bitter—like bile—but I did not stop.

Through it all, my eyes never left the woman in black.

She had not moved.

She did not even seem surprised.

Her fingers continued weaving in the air, a cold smile drawn across her pale lips.

Little wolf… such unnecessary zeal, she said softly.

Her voice was not raised, yet it carried clearly over the clash of steel.

Then a new scent struck my nose.

Familiar—but twisted.

Human sweat. Leather. Steel of Whirikal.

Mixed with burned flesh.

I froze for half a second, sniffing desperately.

Valerie! Something’s coming—and they’re not demons!

From the trees on the far side of the clearing, figures began to emerge. At first they seemed like shadows, but as they stepped into the firelight, my heart dropped.

They were the convoy soldiers.

Dozens of them.

They moved strangely—jerking, stiff, as though their joints were rusted. Like marionettes pulled by threads wound too tight. Their faces were empty of emotion. No hatred. No rage. No fear.

Only eyes glowing with incandescent red.

They advanced in silence, swords drawn, heading straight toward us. No flanking. No cover.

Just forward.

With one singular, terrifying purpose.

Kill us.

It’s them! They’re our comrades! one of Valerie’s soldiers cried, lowering her sword in horror as she recognized a friend among the attackers.

Do not stop! Block their strikes but do not kill them if you can avoid it! Valerie roared, though the weight of command trembled in her voice. Chloé, do something! If we can’t stop them, we’ll have to kill them all!

The woman in black laughed—a crystalline sound that froze my blood.

Her fingers clenched in the air.

The maddened soldiers accelerated, charging with strength no human body should possess.

Look how my dolls dance, the woman whispered. Soon, you will join my collection.

We were surrounded.

On one side, demons hungry for flesh.

On the other, our own brothers-in-arms—empty shells beneath the control of a dark puppeteer.

I licked the blood from my lips, feeling my hunger for justice merge with the instinct to survive.

Lotte… Leah… I thought, bracing for a clash that seemed impossible to win. I hope your traitor is easier to handle than this nightmare.

I threw back my head and howled with all my strength, a cry that shook the forest canopy.

Then I hurled myself back into the fray.

This time, the prey was the fate of Whirikal.

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