"Wait a minute—I have a question."
Nyx's voice cut through the silence like a blade, halting them both in their tracks. They turned to face him, puzzled, the knives still gripped tightly in their hands.
He stepped forward, his expression suddenly more serious than before. There was one crucial detail—perhaps the most important of all. Everything they'd done so far, all the planning, all the risk, hinged on this single question. And now, he was ready to ask it.
Now that they trusted him—now that they were willing to follow his lead—Nyx could finally ask the question that had been pressing on his mind.
He glanced at both of them, his gaze sharp and unwavering. His voice, though calm, carried a weight of urgency.
"Let's assume we manage to win," he began, "and we kill those monsters. Then everything is good. Simple."
He paused, then spoke again—this time harsher, more grounded in the grim reality of what might happen.
"But what if we don't kill them? What if we only manage to injure them?" His tone turned grave. "Then we'll have no choice but to run. Fast. As fast as we can."
He looked into their eyes, holding their attention.
"So, before anything starts, we need to decide right now—what direction do we run? Which path gets us out of this cursed forest the quickest?"
His question hung in the air like a warning, a reminder that hope and fear were walking hand in hand.
Things were getting complicated now. If they began to doubt him even a little, everything could fall apart.
Because the truth was—Nyx had no idea which direction was safe.
He didn't know where this road led, or where it came from. He had no sense of the terrain beyond what he could see, and certainly no knowledge of where the forest ended or where danger lay in wait.
But the worst part? He had already told them he was a scout—someone sent to patrol and monitor these woods. Someone who should know every tree, every path, every possible escape route better than anyone else.
So if they turned to him now and asked the one question he couldn't afford to answer—"Which direction should we run?"—then he would be completely doomed.
He forced his expression to stay calm, but inside, panic gnawed at the edges of his mind.
And he had to know which direction to run when the time came. No matter how risky it was, the question had to be asked. It was dangerous—he knew that—but not knowing was even worse.
So after raising the question, Nyx said nothing more. He didn't try to fill the silence or soften the tension. He simply looked at both of them—eyes calm, steady, unreadable—and waited.
But Nyx had to make sure they still believed he knew this forest well—just as any true scout should. So, keeping his expression serious and his tone calm, he gestured toward the direction he'd come from, pointing with a blood-streaked hand.
"That side leads to an abandoned village," he said grimly. "The place is crawling with screaming monsters. We can't risk going that way."
He paused, furrowing his brow as if trying to recall something important. Then, with just the right touch of urgency and confusion, he added, "But... during the fight with those beasts, I must've lost track of our exact location. My head's still a mess. Could you tell me how long you've been traveling in from that direction?"
His voice was steady, but his eyes watched them closely—searching for clues, for answers. He needed to find out where they were, without revealing he was just as lost as they were.
The others understood well that time was running out, and hesitation could mean death. The man who had remained mostly silent up until now spoke quickly, his voice tense with urgency.
"We've been traveling from that passing village for over six glims," he said, glancing briefly at the road behind them. "At our current pace, we would've reached the capital in another glim and a half."
That was all Nyx needed to hear.
Only one path remained.
Nyx didn't know what 'Glim' means but he took glim as hour, because there's no time for thinking about it and it was also useless to ask from them to convert glims into hours please.
So he thought. 'let it be I'll figure it out after escaping from the monsters.'
If the monsters were approaching from the direction they were headed—let's assume that was north—then the village swarming with screaming creatures lay to the east. They themselves had come from the south. That left only the west—dense forest, thick and shadowed, untouched by roads or settlements.
Nyx didn't actually know the true orientation of the directions, but he needed a structure to think through the plan quickly. So, in his mind, he marked the directions: north was danger, east was worse, south was six hours running in open, and west… was their only hope.
But the man didn't stop there. He continued quickly, words spilling out in a rush as he pointed toward the dense western forest.
"If we run west through the forest," he said, "and keep moving for about two glims, we should reach a village—I think. I can't say exactly how far, but it should be there."
His tone grew more certain as he added, "And we don't have to worry about wild animals in this forest also. So it'll be the best way. There's nothing left in these woods. Ever since that screaming village settled near the eastern edge, all the beasts and monsters either fled or were wiped out. The forest's been eerily quiet for a long time."
He glanced uneasily toward the direction the Crimwights would be arriving from. "Honestly, it's rare to see even a monster here."
Nyx gave a firm nod and turned his gaze toward both of them. "That direction is our best chance," he said, motioning toward the western forest.
His eyes lingered on the treeline. The forest was cloaked in heavy shadows, unnaturally quiet—no rustling leaves, no chirping insects, just a thick, unsettling silence. The sight of it sent an involuntary shiver crawling down Nyx's spine. Something about that darkness felt… wrong. But it was the only route that remained untouched by the Crimwights.
He forced the unease down and looked back at the pair with a stern, steady expression. "Listen carefully. When I engage those monsters… if I manage to injure them or bring even one of them down, you must run. Don't wait for me. Don't turn back. Just go—straight into that forest."
His voice was calm but firm, leaving no room for argument.
There was a brief pause. The two exchanged a glance, and though hesitation flickered in their eyes, they eventually nodded in agreement. The fear hadn't left them—but now it was tempered by a thin thread of trust.
Nyx didn't show it, but he felt it too. That same fear. That same doubt. But there was no time for it now.
"Alright," Nyx said in a low, serious tone, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the looming shadows of the western forest. "Take your positions. They're coming."
Without another word, he started walking swiftly toward the treeline, his footsteps silent but urgent.
The two others didn't delay. With tight grips on their knives and visible tension etched into their faces, they moved to opposite sides of the dirt road. Each positioned themselves behind thick trees, their backs pressed against the bark, fingers trembling slightly around the hilt of their blades. Fear danced in their eyes.
Nyx darted deeper into the forest, weaving between gnarled roots and low-hanging branches until he found a spot just past the road, hidden but close enough to see everything. He crouched low, his breath steady but shallow, and scanned the path ahead through the thin veil of leaves and mist.
The air was heavy. The tension, suffocating.
He clenched his jaw and whispered to himself, "Now the plan begins."