After some time, when I finally stopped running, I noticed that the asphalt seemed to cling to my feet, with the damp dust of the night sticking to my sneakers. They now looked old and worn, as if I had spent my entire life wearing them. As I walked, exhausted, I remembered the sound my soles used to make when they were still soaked with my mother's blood.
When I stopped focusing on that sound, I realized that, together with the silence, I was following Route 305. The road bore the scars of both time and war. All I had at that moment was my dark blue long-sleeved shirt beneath the brown overcoat with silver details that had belonged to my mother and now rested on my shoulders.
Then I stopped, silent tears streaming down my face because my heart could no longer keep them inside, while her final moments replayed in my mind again and again, tormenting me as the night continued to move forward at the same slow pace as my footsteps. The swaying trees followed the icy breeze of the early morning.
Even though the road ran through a relatively large forest, and despite looking like a road that wasn't traveled very often, it was strangely silent.
The sounds of crickets, owls, frogs, and even the footsteps of nocturnal animals simply didn't seem to exist there. When I finally realized it, my body had frozen in place, while the ringing born from that silence screamed inside my ears for only a few brief seconds, though my mind insisted on stretching them into what felt like an eternity.
Only after that did the strange silence finally gain a sound, sharpening my senses until every inch of my skin stood on end, while my eyes stubbornly searched the darkness for something.
The sound I was beginning to recognize was made up of low growls accompanied by the click-clack of several sets of paws. Even though my body was exhausted, my legs moved before my brain could even decide what to do or where to go. I simply accepted that I had to keep running as I threw myself off the road and into the left side of the forest as fast as possible, trying to hide from whatever was chasing me.
When I finally stopped, my back was pressed against a tall, wide tree that looked ancient. But those creatures kept getting closer, their low growls never stopping. As they approached, I struggled to control my ragged breathing, covering both my mouth and nose with my hands, terrified they might hear me. The closer they came, the harder my heart pounded against my ribs. It was the first time I had ever wished my own heartbeat would stop, just so it wouldn't betray me.
The moment I leaned my head against that tree, ready to peek around it while my eyes trembled with fear of being discovered, I looked anyway. One of them emerged from the darkness of the bushes, with the others following close behind, and I realized what they were.
They were L.D-Bs — Lesser Demonic Beasts.
They must have come from the same rupture in the ground as that other, much stronger one.
Their eyes burned with an intense crimson glow that resembled the very gates of Hell. Most of them were quadrupeds, while others seemed capable of moving on either all fours or just their hind legs. Their hides looked like hard black-crimson carapaces that seemed to devour what little light the night offered. Waves of heat surrounded their bodies, and every step drove their claws deep into the ground.
I counted five of them searching the area around me, sniffing the air as though they had caught the scent of something nearby. My hands slowly left my mouth and grabbed onto my mother's overcoat while I struggled to keep my fear under control, hoping those creatures wouldn't hear my racing heart.
As I gradually calmed myself, my mind drifted back to my childhood with my father, when I was only eight years old and would sit watching him train with his sword.
He practiced with it every single day, and yet there were moments when he suddenly seemed to become much stronger. I never understood how that happened.
"Dad? Why do you suddenly seem to get stronger out of nowhere?" Neale asked.
Like any child who loved and admired his parents, my eyes were always filled with innocent admiration.
"Hmm... Right! That's true. You can't actually see what I'm doing, can you? Let's see... That happens because I was just training with my Righteous Wrath." Carlos Rodrigues replied.
"And what's Righteous Wrath?" Neale asked.
"How do I explain it... Righteous Wrath is the name we humans gave to the power that appears when someone manifests the energy of their own soul. Very few humans are actually capable of using it." Carlos Rodrigues explained.
My father always spoke with a gentle smile on his face.
"Did you follow that?" Carlos Rodrigues asked.
"Hmm... I think so." Neale answered.
"You think...? That's fine. Come here. Give me your hand. I'll try to show you instead." Carlos Rodrigues said.
The moment my father touched my hand using his Righteous Wrath, it felt as though something made my entire body tremble all at once, but only from the inside. It was as if that energy flowing into me were searching for something hidden within me.
"W... What was that?" Neale asked.
"You actually felt it?... That was my Righteous Wrath trying to 'talk' to your soul." Carlos Rodrigues replied.
He spoke while wearing an unmistakably surprised expression.
"Here, hold the blade of my sword. Can you feel anything from it too?" Carlos Rodrigues asked.
I became so fascinated that all I could do was eagerly nod after telling him I had felt a faint trace of something within the blade.
"What you felt was a little of my own Righteous Wrath stored inside this blade. Normally, that energy doesn't remain inside objects... except for metals. Well, that's enough explaining for today. Go see if your mother needs anything, alright?" Carlos Rodrigues said.
"Okay." Neale replied.
I ran off after my mother, excited about what I had just experienced, leaving my father alone with his sword.
"Who would've thought... He can actually feel it..." Carlos Rodrigues murmured.
Back in the present, I was still hugging myself as though I were trying to keep my fear trapped inside my own body. That was when I felt one of the cold metal ornaments sewn into the overcoat I was wearing. They were silver decorations that covered almost the entire coat.
That was when I realized that part of my mother's Righteous Wrath must have been stored within those silver ornaments, and that it could be making me a target for those creatures.
Trying to act as quickly as possible, I was forced to tear apart one of the few things I still had left of my family.
I ripped away the entire lower half of the overcoat, leaving only the upper portion covering part of my back, now exposed to the freezing wind that swept through the night.
Without making any sudden movements, I scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground to give the torn piece of fabric some weight. Once I finished, I threw it in the opposite direction with every ounce of strength I had.
The moment the beasts heard it hit the ground, they charged after the sound.
I waited a few more moments before running in the opposite direction, which seemed to lead back toward the road, though I remained inside the forest.
As I ran farther away, the beasts reached the torn cloth. The heat from their claws alone made the damp fabric begin to burn before they even started tearing it apart. By then, I was already far away, running with a determination I never knew I possessed.
But another beast suddenly appeared, chasing after me at incredible speed.
Apparently, there had been six of them all along.
That one would catch me without the slightest difficulty while I struggled just to dodge trees and the uneven terrain.
Looking back — something I probably should never have done — I saw it was almost on top of me, ready to kill me.
Then I lost my footing.
I tumbled down a steep hillside, crashing through bushes and slamming into rocks embedded in the ground.
At that exact moment, a distant roar echoed through the forest.
The beast stopped chasing me and looked around, as though it had heard a command calling it back.
Then it simply disappeared.
I was left somewhere deep within the forest, covered in mud, leaves, and what were probably countless scratches.
Still, I got back on my feet immediately.
There wasn't time to stop and check whether I had broken any bones.
I had to keep moving.
"K... Kirden." Helyara whispered.
I had to get there...
Somehow...
To that Kirden.