The rain had soaked through their clothes by the time they reached the edge of the forest. Toby leaned on Knight, one arm slung over his shoulder, while Knight's legs trembled beneath the weight of blood, exhaustion, and pain.
"Don't pass out," Toby muttered, voice slurred and woozy. "We're too close for dramatics."
Knight grunted. "I'm not the one who got knocked out in one hit."
Toby laughed, then winced. "Still breathing, aren't I?"
They limped down the muddy trail in silence after that, both too tired to keep up the banter. Every step stung and Knight could feel blood still dripping from his side where the dagger had sunk in, and the dull throb in his ribs warned of something broken. His hands were raw from the fight, one still slick with blood from where he'd crushed a goblin's skull against the wall.
By the time the town gates came into view, the sky had turned a steel-gray, and Knight could barely keep his eyes open. A patrol spotted them and rushed over. Knight heard voices, felt arms lifting Toby from his shoulder, saw the world tilt sideways.
Then blackness.
He woke up in a familiar bed, wrapped in rough bandages that tugged at every bruise, every cut, every cracked bone. His shoulder throbbed. His ribs screamed with each breath. His arm was a mess of dried blood and pulsing ache.
But he still had his limbs attached to him
Knight stared at the ceiling in silence. Pale morning light crept through the window and spilled across the room in slanted lines, cutting through the dust like it didn't care. Somewhere outside, a cart rattled by. Someone laughed. The city had moved on without him.
And yet… he was still here.
Still breathing.
Still whole—mostly.
His fingers twitched weakly against the thin blanket. Each pulse of pain reminded him he'd nearly died in that cave. That he'd been beaten, stabbed, slammed against stone walls like a rag doll. And somehow, he'd survived.
He should've died.
But he didn't.
He let out a quiet breath, one that shook just slightly from the inside out. Then, as if pulled from somewhere distant and stupid, a faint smile touched his lips.
"…I made it," he murmured, voice rough.
His throat burned, his chest felt like it had been carved out with a spoon, but there was this strange, heavy warmth pressing into his chest—like pride. Like something close to meaning.
Was this what progress felt like?
He didn't know. But it felt different.
Like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the useless mess he used to be. Maybe getting out of bed, choosing a quest, and walking out of that cave meant something.
Maybe it meant he was changing.
No one answered. Not the peeling walls. Not the wind sliding past the cracked window. But Knight let out a breathless chuckle anyway. He'd survived his first real fight. He'd helped Toby. He hadn't frozen up or begged for someone to save him.
That had to mean something.
Even if it hurt like hell. Even if it was ugly and messy and stupid.
Maybe… this was how it started. The whole becoming-a-better-person thing. The kind of person who didn't hide. Who didn't hesitate. Who didn't always lose.
Anything better than the slothful and indifferent person Knight had been would be worth something.
He turned his head slowly toward the window, watching the clouds drift past. The pain in his body pulsed like a reminder—he still had a long way to go. But right now, it didn't feel so impossible.
Maybe he really was changing.
He woke up in a familiar bed—his bed—but this time, the aches were almost entirely gone.
No broken ribs. No cracked bones. No searing pain just from existing.
Knight blinked at the ceiling. For a long while, he just lay there, listening. The clatter of morning carts outside, voices haggling in the streets, the faint whistle of wind sneaking in through the window crack. The city was alive again, and so was he.
"…Huh."
He sat up slowly, half-expecting a flare of pain to shoot through his ribs, but nothing came. His body moved smoothly, like it hadn't been rag-dolled against a cave wall and filled with holes just a few days ago. He looked down at his chest, expecting to find thick layers of bandages—but all that remained were a few tight wrappings and faint red marks, like the ghosts of injuries that should've taken months to recover from.
"Healing magic, huh," he muttered, brushing a hand along his side. "Guess it really works."
The thought lingered as he stood up, stretching carefully. It was still surreal. Days ago, he'd been coughing blood on the cold stone floor of a goblin cave, convinced he'd never walk again. And now? Now he was fine. Not perfect—but fine.
The mirror in the corner caught his reflection again. Same tired face. Same heavy eyes. But maybe… just a bit sharper. Just a bit more alive.
He dressed, slung his sword over his back, and stepped into the hallway. The inn felt different this morning—not warmer, not more inviting—but less distant. Less like a stranger's house, more like… a place he didn't completely hate waking up in.
It was strange, really.
He used to spend every morning just surviving. Just pushing through the day without a reason. Now, he had one. Kind of.
Toby was already downstairs by the time he reached the bottom of the steps, seated at their usual table and chewing on a chunk of dry bread like it was the greatest thing ever baked.
"You're walking straight," Toby said with a grin. "Miracle."
Knight frowned. "How long have you been waiting?"
"Long enough to steal your half of the breakfast." He waved the last bite before popping it in his mouth.
Knight rolled his eyes and moved to sit across from him. There was no bitterness behind it. Just the usual exasperation.
Toby swallowed and leaned back. "So. You ready for another job? Or are you planning on taking the week to write poetry about your near-death experience?"
Knight snorted. "I'm fine."
Toby blinked. "You just agreed with me. You feeling okay?"
"I said I'm fine. Let's go."
The words came with more weight than usual. Not heavy like guilt or fear just solid. Like a step in the right direction.
They left the inn together, sunlight cutting sharp angles along the stone street. People were already out and about, calling to one another, setting up shop and sweeping doorways. Knight didn't shrink from the crowd this time. He walked through it like he belonged there.
At the guild, the boards were just as chaotic as ever papers pinned every which way, flapping in the breeze like panicked birds. Knight didn't hesitate this time. He stepped up beside Toby and scanned the postings.
Toby's eyes moved a little faster. "There," he said, tapping a familiar sheet. "Snake extermination. Western woods. Pays better than last time."
Knight leaned in and studied the illustration—another crude doodle, this time of a snake with comically big fangs. There were bite marks scribbled in the margins like a warning from a child.
He gave a short nod. "…Fine."
The worry he felt back during the goblin quest was still there but it was quieter now. Muted. This time, he'd be ready. This time, they'd handle it like pros.
They walked up to the receptionist and handed in the paper. She glanced between them before stamping it and handing them a token.
"Careful out there," she warned. "That area's been giving off some strange reports."
"Like what?" Toby asked, tilting his head.
She shrugged. "Just…odd things. Animal tracks too big for local predators. Patrols saying the woods go quiet sometimes. Could be nothing. Just keep your heads up."
Knight didn't flinch. Not this time. He just pocketed the token.
"We'll manage."
A quick trip to the market followed Knight restocking his potions and sharpening his blade, while Toby bartered for a better pair of boots and an extra anti-venom satchel. They chatted along the way, Knight offering a few dry comments here and there. It wasn't much but it was something.
By the time they reached the edge of the western woods, the sun had climbed high into a bright, cloud-scattered sky. The forest air was cooler, the breeze threading between the trees like something half-alive. Leaves rustled gently overhead, casting mottled shadows on the path.
"You know," Toby said, adjusting the strap on his satchel, "if we keep surviving like this, we might actually become competent."
Knight gave him a side glance. "Might."
"Hey. Progress is progress."
They laughed.
The snake nests were easy to find. One here, another hidden under a pile of brush. They cleared them methodically, Toby slicing through eggs, Knight keeping watch for the larger snakes. A few tried to strike, but they were slow. Predictable. Nothing they couldn't handle.
They were nearly finished when something broke the calm.
A crash in the underbrush. Branches snapped and birds fled.
Knight turned while getting into a battle stance.
A man came stumbling through the trees covered in scratches, his face pale as death. He barely managed to stay on his feet.
"RUN!" he gasped, voice ragged. "There's something in the woods—something huge!"
The man soon ran past the duo towards the exit of the forest.
Toby and Knight, confused at what had just happened decided to leave as they were also nearly done with the quest.
Most of the snake nests were cleared, the last one buried beneath a collapsed log that Toby poked at with a stick before torching the eggs. The job had gone smoother than expected—no injuries, no close calls, just some sweat and dirt.
Now they were walking back.
The forest was quieter than usual, but not eerily so. Just calm. The kind of calm that settles in after a long day of work. Leaves rustled gently overhead. Patchy and gold sunlight flickered through the treetops. A breeze passed, carrying the sharp scent of crushed greenery and distant moss.
Knight stretched his arms behind his head, letting out a low exhale. His body still remembered the pain from the goblin cave, but he had grown used to the soreness.
"I still think that one with the yellow stripe was poisonous," Toby said, wiping some sweat from his neck with his sleeve.
"It missed," Knight replied flatly.
"That's not the point. You didn't even flinch."
"I knew it'd miss."
Toby laughed. "Wow. Confidence. Look at you."
Knight didn't reply, but there was a tiny curl of amusement at the corner of his mouth. He was more relaxed now, walking side by side with Toby like they'd been doing this for years. The rhythm of their steps, the casual banter—it all felt… right.
"I could get used to this," Toby said. "You know, jobs that don't end with one of us almost dying."
Knight nodded, eyes forward. "Yeah."
They were close to the forest's edge now. Another ten minutes of walking, and the trees would thin out into open grassland. From there, it was a straight path back to town. They'd clean up, turn in the quest, maybe get something warm to eat before sunset.
Crunch.
Knight's steps halted.
Toby stopped too, his expression shifting. "What?"
There was a noise—faint but distinct—somewhere in the undergrowth behind them.
"Probably a boar," Toby muttered, trying to peer through the trees. "Or another snake."
Knight said nothing. His hand hovered near his sword, instincts sharpened by the memory of darker places.
Then—
A rustle.
A snap.
A shadow moved.
And then, from the thicket, something massive exploded forth.
It wasn't just big it was unnatural. An enormous serpent, its body coiled with thick muscle and overlapping plates of jagged armor. Its head was grotesquely elongated, with too many eyes gleaming beneath bone. It moved like a battering ram made of flesh and death.
Knight didn't even get the chance to shout.
Toby turned at the worst possible moment.
The armored snake slammed into him claws, fangs, and sheer weight crashing down all at once.
Toby's body didn't fall; it crumpled, torn through, tossed like meat. A burst of red hit the grass, and then silence followed.
Knight froze.
His brain tried to process what his eyes had just seen, but it all happened too fast.
One second Toby had been there walking beside him. The next he was gone.
"…Toby?"
The wind shifted.
Knight took one step forward—but his legs didn't want to move. His brain screamed at him to do something, but his body felt frozen in place, like the moment hadn't caught up to reality yet.
Then he saw it.
Toby's body—if you could even call it that anymore—was lying twisted and mangled in the brush ten feet away. One of his arms was just gone, torn from the socket. His torso was shredded open, ribs cracked and bent in directions they were never meant to go. His legs twitched once, then fell still. His eyes… wide, glassy, still staring at something that wasn't there anymore.
Knight blinked.
He blinked again.
This wasn't happening.
This wasn't real.
They were just walking. They were just talking.
"Toby—" his voice came out cracked, dry, almost too quiet to hear over the rustling leaves.
There was blood on the ground. So much of it. It soaked into the dirt, painting the roots and moss in deep reds. Knight's breath caught in his throat as the stench hit him—metallic, raw, fresh.
"No… no, no, no—" he muttered under his breath, staggering forward a half-step. His hands trembled at his sides. "This—what the hell is this—"
The armored snake slowly reared its head again, its grotesque eyes settling on Knight.
But he didn't move. Not yet.
He couldn't.
The world had gone quiet, except for the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears and the distant sound of something wet dripping onto leaves.
Toby had just been there. Smiling. Laughing. Saying dumb things like he always did.
And now—
Knight's gut twisted as a wave of nausea climbed up his throat. He squeezed his fists so hard his knuckles went white.
This wasn't how things were supposed to go.
This wasn't the story he'd started writing for himself in his head where he was getting better, finally doing things right. Where maybe he wasn't so useless anymore.
But now Toby was gone. Just like that.
Ripped apart in front of him like it was nothing just because of some unfortunate timing.
Knight's eyes locked with the beast's. The armored snake tensed, preparing to strike again.
And this time, there was no one standing next to him.
Knight stared blankly at Toby's broken body. His brain refused to register it—refused to process the way his limbs had been torn, the way blood soaked the earth beneath him like spilled ink.
No movement. No sound.
Just red.
Knight's breath hitched. His vision tunneled, heart pounding so hard it muffled the sound of the forest around him.
Then came the sound.
Rustling.
The armored snake slithered through the trees with terrifying ease, its body gleaming under patches of light. Massive, plated scales overlapped like metal armor, each one the size of a man's chest. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the blood in the air.
It was hunting again.
Knight's grip tightened around his sword. His hands trembled.
He stepped forward.
The snake hissed and lunged.
Knight yelled and swung with everything he had, aiming for the middle of its head.
The blade snapped in two the instant it connected with the beast's skull. The jagged metal clattered to the ground.
Knight's breath caught. He had no time to think before the snake's body slammed into him like a battering ram.
He flew back, crashing into a tree hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. Bark cracked. His body folded like a ragdoll, and he dropped to his knees, coughing violently.
His vision blurred. He tasted blood.
Get up.
Get up.
He staggered forward, teeth grit, grabbing the broken half of his sword. The snake turned, its head swinging back toward him.
Knight sprinted toward it again, ducking low and aiming for its eyes or mouth—anything soft.
He leapt, plunging the jagged blade toward the slit between its plated nose.
But the snake twisted, and his weapon bounced off uselessly. He barely avoided its snapping jaws as it retaliated with a violent whip of its head.
Knight was flung through the air, crashing through underbrush and slamming into the dirt hard enough to leave a crater. Pain exploded through his ribs, his shoulder dislocating on impact.
He groaned, trying to crawl.
But the serpent wasn't done.
It came after him, rearing its head and bringing its full weight down in a bone-crushing strike.
Knight rolled—barely—feeling the ground quake beside him as the beast missed by inches.
He couldn't breathe. Couldn't stand.
His limbs trembled with exhaustion, muscles shredded from overuse.
And yet…
He tried again.
He got one foot under him, pushing up with a snarl, the broken blade trembling in his hand.
The snake lunged again, mouth wide, rows of dagger-like teeth glinting.
Knight thrust upward in a last-ditch attempt—aiming for the inside of its mouth.
But it was too fast. Too big.
It slammed him into the ground, coiling its body around him and flinging him sideways again. Knight crashed through a bush and hit a rock, blood spraying from his mouth.
His ears rang. The world spun.
The snake moved in for the kill.
Knight closed his eyes.
A flash of movement.
A scream.
Two figures charged from the woods—one with long white hair streaked red, the other with a blonde ponytail and dual daggers in hand.
Soon the pair of daggers slashed through the air, clanging against the snake's armored flank while a barrage of fire balls exploded into its side, just enough to make the beast flinch and recoil.
Knight blinked.
And that's when fire slammed into its side, erupting with a loud BOOM that shook the trees.
Knight's eyes widened. Through the blur and ringing in his ears, he watched the two strangers coordinate without missing a beat. Miriam danced in close, drawing the snake's attention with rapid strikes to the gaps in its armor—under the jaw, behind the neck—while Amber circled at range, hurling fireballs that burst against the serpent's thick scales.
The snake roared in frustration, lashing out in wild arcs.
Knight, dragging himself behind a tree trunk, could hardly believe what he was seeing. His arms trembled just trying to hold his weight up.
They didn't even look scared.
But they were struggling.
But they were here.
And they weren't letting him die just yet.
"What the hell is this thing!?" Miriam shouted, ducking a swing of the snake's tail. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos.
A second voice called out, urgent and firm. "Miriam! Keep it distracted! I'll hit it from behind!"
"Amber, now would be a great time to actually melt something!"
Knight's eyes widened. Through the blur and ringing in his ears, he watched the two strangers coordinate without missing a beat. Miriam danced in close, drawing the snake's attention with rapid strikes to the gaps in its armor—under the jaw, behind the neck—while Amber circled at range, hurling fireballs that burst against the serpent's thick scales.
The snake roared in frustration, lashing out in wild arcs.
Knight, dragging himself behind a tree trunk, could hardly believe what he was seeing. His arms trembled just trying to hold his weight up.
They didn't even look scared.
But they were struggling.
Miriam landed a hit—barely—and rolled away just in time to avoid being crushed. Amber launched a wave of fire, and though it hissed against the snake's plating, it barely left a scorch mark.
Knight saw the moment Amber clenched her jaw.
"It's not working," she growled. "I can't get through the scales!"
The armored snake reared back, its thick, plated body twisting through the underbrush with unnatural speed. The sheer force of its movements shook the nearby trees. Miriam dashed to one side, daggers slicing in precise arcs, aiming for joints and gaps—but there were so few.
Clang. Clang.
Sparks flew as her blades scraped uselessly against the serpent's armor.
Amber raised both hands, her eyes narrowing as she chanted under her breath. A half-dozen fireballs spiraled outwards, painting the air in red-orange light. They slammed into the snake's flank.
Smoke clouded the air.
But when it cleared, the creature barely looked phased—its armor was scorched, maybe dented, but far from broken.
Amber cursed. "It's like throwing fireworks at a mountain!"
"We need to aim for the underbelly!" Miriam shouted, flipping backward as the snake struck again.
The serpent slammed its head into the forest floor where she had just been, dirt and roots flying upward in a violent spray.
Knight staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on a tree. Blood ran from a gash at his temple. His breath came in ragged gasps. Every muscle screamed. His right arm hung limp.
But his eyes—his eyes locked onto the snake.
Toby's body hadn't moved.
Still crumpled. Still dead.
Knight's teeth clenched. His vision swam.
"Back off!" Amber shouted at him as he started forward, dragging his foot. "You're in no condition to fight!"
"She's right!" Miriam added, darting past him as she went in for another slash. "You'll just get yourself killed—get out of here!"
Knight didn't respond.
He ducked under the swipe of the snake's tail, barely keeping balance as the wind of it nearly knocked him over. He rolled, grunted, and grabbed something off the ground—a familiar shard of steel.
His broken sword.
Jagged. Useless. But it was something.
The snake shrieked and turned, focusing now on Knight as if recognizing him as the one who had survived its earlier assault. The snake's body tensed—and then lunged.
Knight threw himself sideways, just missing another strike. The impact of the serpent's head hitting the ground sent rocks into the air.
Amber raised her hand again. This time, the fire she summoned pulsed brighter, hotter—laced with desperation. The flame twisted into a concentrated lance and hurled forward, striking just beneath the snake's jaw.
It roared. The magic had singed away a tiny patch of armor.
"There!" Amber yelled. "We can break through that spot!"
Miriam nodded, kicked off a tree, and dove for the weak point. She struck once—twice—each time her daggers digging a little deeper.
But the snake thrashed violently, tail sweeping sideways and catching Amber mid-cast.
CRACK.
She was sent flying, smashing into a tree with a yelp. Her fire sputtered out as she hit the ground hard.
"Miriam!" she cried. "I—I'm fine—!"
The serpent turned again, this time focused on Miriam.
Knight's vision pulsed red. He sprinted forward with everything he had left, dragging his battered body toward the chaos.
"No!" Miriam shouted. "Stay back—!"
Too late.
Knight dove at the snake's head just as it lunged at Miriam. He jumped, grabbing onto one of the armor plates lining its skull, just above the eye. The force of it nearly dislocated his shoulder.
With his good hand, he drove the jagged remains of his blade downward—straight into the creature's left eye.
The snake screamed, its massive body twisting and writhing. Knight held on as it whipped its head, his legs flailing in the air. His arm was stuck inside its eye socket, buried elbow-deep in black blood and searing heat.
The beast bucked.
Knight screamed as his arm snapped inside. Bone cracked. Tendons tore.
But he didn't stop.
He grabbed the hilt with both hands now—his broken one trembling, fingers spasming—and jammed it deeper.
The snake flailed again. Knight's back slammed against a tree. His breath burst from his lungs.
But he held on.
"Just—DIE!" he roared, face contorted with pain and rage.
The blade drove deeper. Blood sprayed.
The snake began to seize, its movements jerking and uncoordinated. Its tail slammed into the ground in a final spasm of fury, nearly crushing Amber again.
Then, with one last thrash, the great beast collapsed, its head smashing into the ground.
Knight was thrown free, hitting the dirt hard and rolling.
Silence followed. A long, eerie silence broken only by the rasp of breath and the crackle of dying flames.
The last thing Knight saw was the snake's corpse twitching, the thick scent of blood and rot choking the air. He collapsed beside it, his body a patchwork of bruises, cracked bones, and torn muscle. The world dimmed around the edges, fading to black like a slow eclipse.
"Hey! Hey!" a voice shouted.
Footsteps thudded close—boots on forest floor.
"Is he alive?" another asked, panic creeping into the words.
"Barely. Damn it. We need to get him out of here."
Voices became muffled. Distant. A pair of hands lifted him—he didn't know whose. The warmth of blood, his own or someone else's, soaked through whatever they wrapped him in.
His mind then slowly drifted into the dark.