The trees swallowed me the moment I stepped off the path.
The sun hadn't fully risen, but inside the Whispering Forest, it wouldn't have mattered. The branches hanged high above like claws trying to strangle the sky.
Light barely touched the ground. The cold air carried a damp, rotting smell, old leaves, mixed with something else. Something watching.
It just didn't feel right.
I adjusted the strap of my makeshift pack and tightened my grip on the spear I carved from one of the harder woods near the village. Iron-tipped. Balanced. I had studied enough boar-hunting videos last night during my one-hour window to know what I needed. Distance. Patience. Timing. Not heroism or Foolishness. My life is the most valuable thing on this wasteland.
The butler had been hesitant when I told him I was heading out alone. He offered to send some of the stronger villagers with me.
"No," I'd said with a calm smile. "This is for them."
He nodded like he understood. But I could see it in his eyes he didn't understand.
Let them see me return bloodied and victorious. Let them talk. Their brave, selfless Baron risking his life to bring them meat. It would feed more than their bellies it would feed their loyalty.
Twigs snapped behind me. I paused.
Wind?
No. The trees were still, but the whispers weren't.
That's why they called it the Whispering Forest. The sounds… they didn't come from birds or animals. They were voices. Faint and low. Some said it was spirits, others said it was the forest itself. I didn't care. The moment I heard them, I knew this place was perfect.
The boars liked it here. Shelter, roots, mushrooms. I followed the signs I learned disturbed earth, chewed-up bark, deep tracks in the mud. It was fresher than I expected. The beast was nearby.
I crouched behind a rotting log and waited. The silence pressed on. Only the whispers moved. They were words I couldn't understand, just a low murmuring, like breath against my ear.
Don't run.
Don't fear.
Don't fail.
I blinked. That last one sounded too clear. Too… human.
A sharp rustle broke the trance. There
It stepped into view; a massive boar, tusks long and curved like daggers. Mud-caked, eyes were red as blood. A true beast, bigger than the ones I saw online, stronger and real.
It sniffed the air, pawed at the ground. I stayed still, letting my breath slow.
You strike when it lowers its head to root.
I waited. And waited.
Then it charged.
Not to root. Straight at me.
I dove sideways. Pain ripped through my ribs as I hit a root. The spear rolled from my hand. The boar snorted, angry, confused, turning to face me again.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
I scrambled, grabbing the spear. The boar charged again. I jumped behind a tree its tusks scraped bark as it slammed past. Dumb animal. I just needed one opening.
It came. It turned too wide.
I stepped out and drove the spear forward, aiming low. The tip punched into its side. Not deep enough.
It screamed a sound I didn't expect from something without a voice and turned, blood streaming from its wound. My hands shook. I forced them still.
"Come on," I whispered.
The forest whispered back.
The boar lunged again. I sidestepped and thrust. This time, the spear dug deeper through flesh, into muscle. I twisted it, yanked back, and stumbled away as it thrashed.
It collapsed after a few more steps, snorting weakly, blood pooling beneath it.
I stood over the body, panting, hands trembling. Not from fear. From adrenaline. From the knowledge that this was power.
This meat would feed them. This blood would build me higher.
I knelt beside the boar and touched its side. Still warm. I whispered, "Your sacrifice is appreciated. You'll be remembered."
A Lie, But a useful one.
I cleaned my blade, cut the carcass for dragging, and hoisted the weight onto a small sled I'd prepared. It was heavy. Good. Let them see me dragging it home, face dark with dirt and blood, cloak torn from the branches.
Let them see their Baron bleed for them.
Let them love me for it.
Let them follow me blindly when the time came.
As I turned to leave, the forest whispered again. Low and long.
This time, I didn't listen.
I didn't need to.
I already knew what I was.