They drove me out of the village. No matter how hard Gans tried to make them let me stay, it didn't work.
I had seen firsthand how cruel and terrifying demons could be… but I also learned that humans could be just as monstrous—sometimes even worse.
One thing became clear to me: no matter how polite, calm, or civilized people may appear, in times of fear and pressure, they reveal their true selves. And that face… is so horrifying, even demons would be ashamed to wear it.
As I walked away from the village, I burned those faces into memory—those awful, twisted grins they wore while watching me leave.
Looking back at them, I made myself a vow:
[No matter what happens, I'll never again stand by and watch someone I care about die. I'll never let anyone fall into such despair again. And I will never—never—wear the face those people showed me today.]
That vow etched itself into my soul forever.
Carrying my grief, sorrow, and aching body, I left the village behind. Gans's sword hung at my side, swaying with each step.
I kept walking without pause—I knew I needed to reach the city as quickly as possible. I couldn't afford to rest, not when there was a chance the demon might return.
Eventually, darkness fell. I realized I wouldn't make it to the city before night. If I lost the road in the dark, it would be as good as death. I considered finding a hut or cabin nearby where I could rest for a bit.
But this was practically demon territory. No one would live here willingly.
Strange, though… If this place is so dangerous, why didn't my parents ever leave? I should've asked my mother when I had the chance.
Ah. She's gone…
For some reason, my heart still refused to accept it. I kept imagining she was alive. It all felt like a nightmare—a terrible dream I'd soon wake from. I wanted to pinch myself and open my eyes in my bedroom, to see her walking in with her warm smile, waking me up gently.
But this was no nightmare. This was reality—bitter and inescapable. A nightmare ends when you wake. But reality… must be accepted.
It was past midnight. The moon and stars glimmered above, their light trickling through the leaves. The forest looked strange under their glow—quiet, ghostlike.
I stuck to the road, afraid to stray into the shadows. The darkness around me was heavy, but the moonlight offered just enough guidance.
Suddenly, I heard rustling in the bushes.
[What now? A wild animal?] I thought, drawing my sword and facing the noise.
The rustling grew closer. My grip tightened. My arms trembled.
[If it's a predator, it'll charge me as soon as it sees me. I have to strike first. If it's just an animal... well, maybe I'll have dinner.]
The sound was right in front of me now. I braced myself and swung the sword the moment something burst from the bush.
[It was… a puppy.]
My blade stopped inches from its tiny head, and I dropped the sword in shock. It was small, scruffy, and kind of adorable. I crouched down.
"Hey, little guy. Come here."
The pup limped toward me. I saw scratches on its sides, its fur matted and dirty.
He must've been attacked by bigger dogs, I thought.
I pulled a small piece of bread from my pack and offered it.
"You look even worse off than I am. Here, have this."
[As he approached, something bothered me.
What's a puppy doing out here? In the middle of the forest? At this hour?
A thought struck me like lightning: What if the demon sent it? What if it's a scout?]
I hesitated with the bread still in hand. The puppy stepped forward—and suddenly bit me.
I cried out, stumbling back. Blood seeped from my hand.
I snatched up my sword and slashed at it. The blade only grazed its eye—it yelped and backed off, then let out a high-pitched howl.
A warning call.
I looked at my bleeding hand, my mind racing.
[I need to run. Now. If the dogs are here, the demon can't be far behind. I can't escape on the road—they'll catch me. My only option is the forest.]
[Even if I get lost… it's better than dying at the hands of that thing.
With that thought, I darted into the forest.
As I ran, I quickly lost sight of the road. Then, from behind me, I heard barking—dozens of them. The howls grew louder, closer. There were too many. Far too many.
Then suddenly, all the barking stopped. Silence. An eerie, unnatural stillness fell, as if the ground itself had swallowed the hounds whole.
Confused by the sudden quiet, I froze and focused. I sharpened my hearing, trying to understand what was happening.
That's when I heard them—soft, rapid footsteps, rustling through the trees. The dogs were circling me. They weren't chasing anymore… they were flanking. From my left, they sprinted past. I had seconds to act.
Only two paths remained: forward, or to the right.
My brain refused to think—panic gripped it. So I trusted instinct, clenched my sword, and sprinted forward.
The dogs gave chase again. I ran with everything I had, but exhaustion quickly caught up. My chest burned, and every breath stung. If I didn't stop soon, they'd catch me.
I spotted a large tree and ducked behind it to rest and hide. I needed air. I needed to think. And if I had to run again, the tree gave decent cover.
Not long after I crouched down, the hounds arrived. With them came Baskervilel.
I watched from the shadows as the demon looked around, commanding his beasts with sharp gestures. The dogs sniffed the ground, searching for my scent. I saw one of them stop—it had caught my trail.
Then, the demon spoke.