“Sloan, we have to go back for him. Look! He has been surrounded!” Sierra exclaimed.

  Her brother ignored her, focusing on running away and not paying attention to her sister.

  “Why are you not listening to me? We have to go help him. He is doing this for us; this is wrong,” she said.

  Sloan’s expression hardened, looking at her with an annoyed expression.

  “Sierra, do not forget what we were told to do. Alhen has to die for us to get the thuls of our parents. Do you seriously not understand that?”

  “Even if we go back, we would only be wasting our time. He made a choice, and if he dies here, it would be better for us,” Sloan explained.

  Sierra bit her lip and looked at the ground while she ran.

  “I know that we have been tasked to kill him, but we do not know if he is a member of that church; all that we know is that he is a person willing to sacrifice himself for our well-being,” she rationalized.

  “This is why you are not allowed to make big decisions, Sierra. Emotion clouds your thoughts too much.”

  “We barely know the boy, and this graveyard is most likely filled with people like him, naive and foolish,” Sloan said.

  Sierra stopped talking, looking back one last time.

  She saw the barely discernible figure of Alhen being surrounded from all sides by the wihts chasing after them.

  In just a few moments, his figure was swallowed whole, and she couldn’t help but think why he had done nothing to prevent it.

  None of that mattered anymore, and she focused on her brother's back. As long as she didn’t take her gaze away from it, she would be fine… they would be fine… just like always.

  Time seemed to pass quickly.

  In the blink of an eye, they found themselves outside the graveyard, panting and struggling to breathe.

  Even if Alhen had stayed behind to give them time, they didn’t know how much time he would buy them.

  Considering that she saw Alhen being swallowed by the horde, she guessed that it wouldn’t be much, so they had run at full speed without stopping to catch a break.

  She was sure that if they had done that without Alhen holding the horde back, they would have eventually caught up to them and killed them.

  As she recovered her breath, her mind couldn’t help but wander off to the time when Alhen had decided to save them.

  She couldn’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t run in another direction or something like that, and instead chose to fight them head-on.

  After almost a full minute, they recovered their breath and looked back at the graveyard. No wihts were coming after them, the forest was filled with sounds that raised their guards.

  Far into the distance, they could hear the sounds of dead branches breaking, and the forest around them rustled with movement.

  A strong smell of shit hit their noses, and barely discernible growls could be heard near them.

  Sloan threw his sister a look, and she understood immediately that it wasn’t safe where they were.

  They moved carefully, trying to find a hiding place to talk amongst themselves to find the next best course of action.

  They found some nearby rocks taller than the trees around them, and with a hole big enough for both of them to fit in.

  Without thinking twice, they entered and sat still in the cramped space.

  The ground and the wall were sharp, and Sierra scraped the side of her uncovered face, drawing a small amount of blood.

  She widened her eyes and immediately went to reach for her backpack, but remembered that it had been taken by a wiht.

  Sloan looked at her with a frown and took out his gloves, handing them to his sister to take care of the cut.

  She put pressure on the wound and tried to stop the bleeding as fast as she could lest she attract the attention of nearby wihts.

  The rocks did a good job of hiding their figures, but they could never be too careful. Sloan and Sierra didn’t dare to move, listening for anything that might be out of place.

  After almost a minute of nothing happening, they were starting to relax, but couldn’t as they heard footsteps nearing their location.

  They could barely see without light, and Sloan could sense that his sister was tense.

  In the distance, she saw the silhouette of something resembling a four-legged creature growing bigger.

  It was nearing them, and Sloan gritted his teeth, hoping that they wouldn’t find out.

  ‘If that thing finds us, then running out of here will be complicated.’

  ‘If it keeps getting closer, we will have to risk it and run even if it hasn’t spotted us, or we would be risking being trapped and killed,’ Sloan thought.

  They didn’t know the strength of the wiht, but something of that size could not be weak; it was half the size of a tree.

  Thankfully, the silhouette went another way and disappeared from their view, but they didn’t lower their guard.

  After making sure that there was nothing wrong, Sloan opened his mouth.

  “That was close. We will have to wait until the wihts are done devouring Alhen to return. We have to collect the evidence showing he is dead to present it to Sir Inston,” he said.

  Sierra didn’t speak as he was expecting, and when he looked to the side, he saw her staring at the ground with a downcast expression.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Sloan asked. “You cannot let yourself feel down over something like this.”

  “We dealt with a similar situation in the past, remember? At that time, you promised not to act like this again, so what happened?”

  Sierra sighed.

  “Yes, I know I did. But that was an old man, and this time, it is a young boy,” she replied.

  Sloan breathed deeply and exhaled sharply, letting out his frustrations.

  “If it were not for your nagging about not killing the boy, we would have done so a while ago. What even was the point of taking this contract?”

  “You have to stop being so stubborn if you want to survive,” Sloan almost yelled.

  Sierra looked at her brother deeply in the eyes.

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  “I know, and I am sorry. I know not what is wrong with me. I thought that perhaps by taking this contract, I would have time to talk with him and figure out the truth, but it is not possible anymore,” she said.

  Sloan shook his head.

  “It is not your fault that you have a good heart, but sometimes, you have to learn when to think with your brain, not with your heart,” Sloan responded.

  Sierra nodded her head slowly and said, “Now we wait.”

  “Crap!” Alhen exclaimed in surprise.

  His head would have been detached from his body if he hadn’t noticed the claw swung at him in time.

  He took it as a sign to activate his blessing, as he was surrounded in all directions, and exhaustion started seeping into his body.

  ‘Just as I thought. I’m still incapable of handling this large crowd of low-ranked wihts. I have to escape,’ he thought.

  His eyes darted in all directions, but he couldn’t see anything apart from the deadly attacks that were aimed at him.

  The variety of wihts were surprisingly low. From the hundreds of wihts that wanted to tear him apart, he only saw about six species of them.

  Some had tiny bodies with long necks, others were big and grotesque, others resembled animals like dogs, but there wasn’t any sign of the wiht that took Sierra’s backpack.

  None of them had its appearance.

  He thought about running to the forest, but it wouldn’t be such a great idea.

  ‘I’m already tired. If I run a little more, I’m going to exhaust myself and will be killed. What do I do in this situation?’ He asked himself again.

  He remembered his short time in that cave with his mentor, where he had that same question.

  He couldn’t use his blessing’s second ability because he didn’t have the guarantee that he would be saved.

  Just as he started despairing, he heard a faint voice calling out for him.

  “Alhen,” it said.

  He didn’t think more and rushed towards the voice, dodging the wihts in his path with the help of his blessing.

  When he had a clear view of where the voice had come from, his hair stood on end. He was running straight towards the open doors of the tomb.

  Sloan and Sierra had run to the forest, and it would be impossible for them to be inside, so what had called him out?

  “Pant! Pant!” Alhen turned off his brain and ran at full speed towards the tomb, not daring to look behind him.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what called out to me. If I don’t do something, then I’m dead!’ Alhen exclaimed in his mind.

  His legs moved forward without stopping, and he managed to push himself to his running limit. The entrance was quite a distance away, but due to his efforts, he reached it in a flash.

  He managed to make some distance between himself and the wihts, but he was exhausted, and he was sure that his legs would give out any second now.

  Blood accumulated in his glasses from his eyes, and he almost tripped over his own foot, but managed to keep himself steady.

  ‘I have to go inside!’ he shouted in his mind.

  The open door came into view, and he soon passed it, closing the big door behind him.

  He looked around in a hurry, trying to find something to prevent the wihts from coming in.

  His eyes landed on nothing, however, and the desperate feeling in his heart grew stronger.

  The wihts were going to knock the door down any second now, and the only paths to advance were some stairs in the middle of the room that led into a dark abyss.

  The floors and walls were cracked, with flesh and fluids scattered everywhere. It was only then that he felt the disgusting stench of spoiled meat and something else, which he didn’t really know what it was.

  The walls had many paintings of the same woman from outside, showing her leading an army and marrying a king, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the details.

  He sprinted down the cracked stairs, feeling as if the steps under him would give out any second now.

  The next moment, he heard a loud sound from behind him, and he knew instinctively that the door had been broken and the wihts started to pour inside in a flash.

  Sounds of growling and wails of desperation reached his ears, but he only focused on the path ahead.

  As he ran towards the deep, the darkness was such that he couldn’t see where he was stepping. His hand was on the wall at all times, being the only source of guidance.

  Alhen had a grimace on his face, looking worried about something.

  ‘I wonder who called me here? Did I really make the right choice choosing to come inside instead of trying to escape into the forest?’ Alhen wondered.

  He then shook his head. ‘I am so exhausted. If I had run to the forest, I would have been eaten already. The only thing I can do now is hope I’m not running to a dead end.’

  Alhen was brought back to the present moment when he heard the wihts screams echo in the tunnel, leading him to believe that they were already rushing downstairs.

  His mind was working overtime, and he miscalculated his step, his foot landing on the edge of the stairs, making him trip.

  “Shit!” he audibly let out.

  His body rolled downwards without stopping, and he felt each hit bruise his body more and more.

  He gritted his teeth and felt the sharp edges of the stairs ripping his jacket and tearing his skin.

  The descent seemed endless, never-ending, and he tried getting a sense of control, but the darkness and his speed didn’t allow him to do that.

  Alhen desperately flailed his arms, and his heart was beating increasingly fast. The noise of the wihts chasing after him became background noise, and then, nothing.

  He lost all sensation on his body, and his mind blacked out.

  He opened his eyes slowly, feeling disoriented. He wasn’t moving anymore, and he felt something sticky dripping down the back of his head.

  His whole body was in great pain, and when he remembered where he was, his focus was brought back.

  The sounds were near him; he had hit the back of his head and lost consciousness for some time.

  He could guess that not much time had passed since the wihts still hadn’t caught up to him, but it wouldn’t be a long time before it happened.

  Alhen pushed himself upwards and swayed left to right. The darkness was such that he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face.

  ‘W-Where do I go now?’ he wondered.

  The wihts were closer now, he guessed it wouldn’t be a few seconds before they reached him.

  Despite the situation, his heart was calm, and his body was relaxed. A purple light appeared in his vision, illuminating his surroundings.

  He hadn’t realized it before, but now that light reached him, the bodies littered on the ground revealed themselves.

  There were many dismembered young men and women, and the blood was such that it reached his ankles.

  Alhen didn’t have time to be surprised or to think about what had happened. The wihts were now dangerously close.

  He wanted to run towards the light, but couldn’t. The earlier fall had messed with his foot, and now he walked with a limp.

  “Screech!” The wihts screeched.

  Due to the nature of the place, the sound echoed into his ears, almost blasting them into oblivion, but he held on.

  He had experience dealing with these types of situations and knew he had to endure.

  ‘Come on! Just a little more!’ He shouted in his mind. The light was close, but the wihts were closer.

  “Slash!” Alhen felt his back almost ripping apart. He fell forward and stepped into the light, and when he turned around, the wiht that had taken Sierra’s backpack was staring at him.

  It didn’t blink, nor did it approach him. Behind its body, Alhen could see the horde of wihts staying still, not moving a muscle.

  His heart was beating at one hundred miles per hour, and the wound on his back started to burn.

  He kept his gaze locked with the wiht, who, now that he looked closer, appeared to be shaking.

  Alhen could not believe it, all the wihts behind it were shaking as well, looking almost afraid of something.

  A confused expression made its way to his face until he turned to look behind him.

  It wasn’t until now that he realized that the light that had illuminated his surroundings was emanating from a sarcophagus behind him.

  Once he locked eyes with it, a terrible shudder crawled up his back into his neck, reaching his brain.

  His hair stood on end, and he couldn’t believe the pressure that was pressing down on his body.

  ‘W-What is this?’ Alhen asked himself in his mind.

  The sarcophagus was unassuming; he would even dare to say that it was somewhat plain-looking.

  It was dark and had many spiderwebs in it. A strong stench of death reached his nose, and the wind seemed to turn colder by the second.

  The purple light only grew stronger out of the rectangular sarcophagus, and the amount of pressure that it emanated was enough for everyone in its vicinity to feel oppressed.

  It felt as if death was staring right at him and was sharpening his scythe to kill him and send him into the afterlife.

  Without a word or sound, he turned around again, and saw the wihts leaving the area by going upstairs again, although some simply retreated to some other open rooms down where he was.

  Now he had two choices, either he could try to get out of the tomb and hope for the best, or he could stay here for a while until the wihts forgot about his existence.

  ‘Who am I kidding? I couldn’t even get out of here if I wanted to. My ankle is messed up, and I don’t know when I will be able to walk normally again.’

  Alhen started biting his fingernails, not daring to look behind him.

  That was, until he heard a familiar voice that made him stop. “Alhen,” it called out to him.

  He slowly turned around, not believing his ears.

  ‘Was that… Henry?’ Alhen questioned in his mind.

  He looked at the sarcophagus again and stood. He winced as the cold air brushed against his wound, which thankfully didn’t seem to be deep.

  ‘Help me… come closer,’ it said.

  There was no doubt, it was Henry’s voice. It seemed to be in pain; he had to help him.

  Alhen moved slowly towards the sarcophagus, baffled by how such a thing could be possible. The voice was clearly his; a smile made way to his face, and his eyes lost their shine.

  ‘Yes, closer. Come closer. I am right here, buried… forgotten… afraid.’

  He picked up the pace, walking as fast as he could with his limp. The distance he traveled each step was short, and the more he approached, the better he felt.

  Alhen didn’t feel his wound anymore, and eventually, he walked without a limp. His shoulders straightened, and he reached out his hand to touch the sarcophagus.

  ‘It’s Henry; he’s suffering. I will help you, just give me a second,’ he thought.

  His reached out hand inched closer and closer to the sarcophagus, and now, he didn’t feel anything, just peace.

  All the emotions he held buried came out, resurfacing in his heart. Emotions of pain, anger, resentment, fear, hopelessness, and guilt, but it didn’t touch him.

  It didn’t affect him at all. And just as he touched the sarcophagus, the world became dark.