Chapter 32: Hunger Pangs
Something about this forest was… off.
No, it wasn’t just something. Ruglien was completely bananas.
Tillysha had noticed it as soon as they’d entered Ruglien. There was this subtle, undetectable aura about that even Divine Analysis Technique couldn’t sniff out. It was the reason the second they’d stepped foot in Ruglien, the sun seemed to dim slightly, though no fault of its own.
The reality? There was no difference between Ruglien’s sun and Caleburn’s. But Ruglien was saturated with an energy that was downright repellant to the Light Race. So much so, it played tricks even on basic senses.
As the campfire crackled to life, Wenfu sat near the flames. Was she cold or nervous? Hard to tell. Her tiny shoulders trembled lightly, and her little tail swished anxiously behind her, like a kitten stranded in unfamiliar territory. She kept jumping at every sound, imagining danger in every rustling leaf.
Princess Filisia fussed with their gear as Aistride lounged casually in the boughs of a nearby tree, attuned to every whisper of the forest. Any rustle of a leaf, any scurry of a creature—none of it escaped her heightened senses.
“Guess being an Elf Princess does come with perks,” she quipped offhandedly, adjusting her perch. She was, after all, pretty adept at climbing trees.
Tillysha could serve as sort of a magical radar, but that wasn’t exactly convenient. Especially since two of her companions had no clue who—and what—she actually was.
Not like she intended to keep it a secret. But showing up as a live, breathing Gold Elf after being missing for four centuries? Yeah, might be kind of a lot to take in for some people.
“Hey, anyone feeling bored? How about a story?” Tillysha poked at the fire with a stick, aiming to lighten the rather heavy atmosphere.
“Story?” Wenfu perked up instantly, her big eyes sparkling with the promise of entertainment. Even Aistride turned her attention from her scouting to listen.
“You’re in luck. I’ve got the perfect one—a tale so true, it could be false.” Tillysha propped herself up lazily on one elbow, twirling a strand of hair with a playful grin.
“A story about what?”
“Once upon a time, four adventurers entered a jungle,” she began, her voice smooth and even, almost hypnotic. “A bit like… us.”
“They set up camp and waited for nightfall. As dusk descended, the leader decided to count heads. But no matter how many times she tried, there was always one too many. Four adventurers. Five shadows.”
“Huh?” Wenfu shivered, her fur standing up. “That doesn’t sound much like a happy bedtime story.”
“Heehee, an extra person? Sounds lively,” teased Filisia as she continued setting up camp.
“Night fell, and sleep claimed all four. But with dawn, the numbers had changed again.”
“Back to four.”
“Wh-what?” Wenfu’s small fists tightened in her lap.
“But when night returned, so did the extra presence. Five again. And the next morning… four.”
“And then?”
“Three days this cycle continued,” Tillysha said, her tone taking on a conspiratorial hush. “Now, can anyone guess what happened on the fourth day?”
“Right! Whoever guesses gets a prize.” Tillysha wagged her finger playfully.
“Maybe they all became five people?” Filisia guessed offhandedly.
“Nope.”
“Likely still four during the day,” Aistride muttered from her perch. “Still five at night. But by the fifth morning… no one.”
“Hmm? Why’s that?”
“Because there was a ghost among them. It only showed up at night, meaning five. During the day? Four.”
“But why no one by the fifth day?”
“Ha-ha, maybe it was just playing tricks? They escaped the jungle safely, right?” suggested Wenfu nervously.
“Wrong. They were all killed,” Aistride stated flatly, her silver hair shifting in the wind.
“M-Murdered?!” Wenfu’s tail shot up like a startled meerkat.
“Each night, the ghost killed one person, impersonating them to throw off the survivors. By the third night, all but the leader were dead. On the fourth night? The leader herself.”
“By morning on the fifth day, no one remained alive.” Aistride spoke each word as if carving it into stone.
“Correct!” Tillysha clapped her hands lightly. “Aistride, you’re truly a model of wit and wisdom.”
Aistride didn’t respond, nor did she ask for any reward. She simply leaned back against the tree trunk, content to let the silence settle.
“Alright, time flies when telling spooky tales. Supper’s over, and it’s bedtime!” Tillysha chirped brightly. “Oh, and speaking of… did anyone else notice something odd?”
“What’s odd?”
“This forest,” Tillysha’s smile faded. “It’s a better habitat than the Wilderness, yet we haven’t seen a single Demon Race around. Any guesses why?”
“The Demon Race avoids this forest because there’s something even scarier,” Tillysha continued before anyone could respond. “Something they’re too afraid to tangle with. So, even when resting, stay sharp.”
The reason for the story was clear—to warn her team. By relaying a tale eerily similar to their present situation, Tillysha hoped to subtly heighten their awareness.
It didn’t seem to affect Aistride or Filisia much. One thought it was just a story, the other didn’t believe in ghosts—though she might have been secretly interested in hunting one.
Wenfu, however, had been properly terrified. Glancing at her teammates’ calm faces, she swallowed her fear. After all, fear of ghosts wouldn’t reflect well on her, would it?
“There are three tents. Since Aistride doesn’t need sleep, let’s each have our own tent tonight,” suggested Filisia.
That did it for Wenfu. “Alone?! In a tent?!”
The thought of sleeping solo in these conditions nearly sent her into a panic.
Reluctantly, Wenfu shuffled to her tent, stumbling along the way. As she caught herself, her eyes landed on something illuminated faintly by the fire.
Her face turned ghastly pale.
A set of bleached bones—certainly not from any Beast King. Tillysha leaned down to inspect them, rolling the bones between her fingers. “Not from any Monster King. Probably one of the local Demon Races.”
Realizing the local Demon Races hadn’t just been avoiding this forest, but had died here, Wenfu’s eyes welled with tears. She looked at Tillysha, imploring.
“Tillysha-nee-sama…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I, I…”
It was plain as day. Seeing her pitiful gaze, Tillysha decided to cut straight to the chase. “Would you like to share my tent tonight, Wenfu?”
“Y-yes, please!” Wenfu’s cat ears perked up, her wide eyes full of gratitude.
Tillysha pinched her nose lightly. “You are too much trouble.”
“Ti-tillysha-nee-sama is the best!” Wenfu hugged her tightly, soft warmth enveloping the golden elf.
As night settled over Ruglien, an unsettling darkness cloaked the already eerie forest.
Aistride remained vigilant, perched high in the tree. Though her eyes were closed, no sound—living or otherwise—escaped her.
Elves were creatures of the wild. Even a few nights without sleep wouldn’t faze her. Tillysha had often joked that, in her old world, many a seasoned ascetic would have envied such stamina.
Aistride’s fingers brushed her curved blade’s hilt. The absence of moonlight was slightly uncomfortable but, as an elf, her connection with nature transcended even that limitation.
She snapped her eyes open, not because of any tangible threat—but because she felt someone nearby. Sure enough, a golden figure floated on the breeze next to her.
“Shouldn’t you be keeping our frightened kit company?”
“Wenfu’s already asleep,” Tillysha replied casually, her legs swaying lazily as she seated herself next to Aistride.
It wasn’t uncommon for kids to get spooked. A little story here, a comforting word there, and they were soon sleeping soundly in her arms. Though before nodding off, Wenfu had muttered something about her “mother.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’d feel guilty leaving you alone on watch.” Tillysha flicked a strand of golden tresses from her face.
And in the moonless night, she glowed like an otherworldly sun. The shadows around her seemed to accentuate her radiance, creating an almost ethereal beauty.
“Let me keep you company.”
“I’m fine on my own.”
“Didn’t I promise a reward for solving my little puzzle?” Tillysha smirked. “It’s time to pay up.”
“Or would you rather spend the night alone?”
“…” Aistride averted her gaze, her silver hair fluttering in the wind.
It was hard to ignore the double entendre in Tillysha’s words. Normally, she would have dismissed such playful banter as unintentional. Not this time.
Aistride found herself feeling increasingly uneasy. For all that Tillysha had been teasing her, why couldn’t she ignore it now?
Her cheeks flushed. For some strange reason, she couldn’t meet Tillysha’s gaze. Her mind was playing tricks on her, conjuring vivid images she knew she shouldn’t be thinking of.
“…”
The wordless exchange dragged on, charged with unspoken tension.
As the forest settled into its quiet, Tillysha began to feel a strange gnawing discomfort in her stomach. Dinner hadn’t been that long ago, and as an elf, hunger was something unfamiliar.
But this persistent ache… what was it?
Even as the forest remained eerily calm, a creeping sense of dread took root in Tillysha’s chest. It didn’t match the carefree facade she maintained while idly toying with her hair.
Surely, a place so feared by the Demon Races must house something more dangerous than any mere demon. Yet, they had set up camp, and nothing had stirred.
Why the silence?
Why hadn’t whatever lurking here struck yet?
The absence of even a single demon—low or high rank—was troubling.
The ache in her stomach worsened with each passing moment. Hunger gnawed at her insides with increasing ferocity, a visceral, almost primal need.
“What’s going on?”
Tillysha turned her gaze to Aistride next to her. Suddenly, the smooth expanse of her flesh, the silk-clad curves of her legs sparked an unexpected desire in her.
She wanted to bite into that soft, silken flesh. Just once.
Realizing the nature of the thought, Tillysha shuddered and quickly pushed it down. Cold sweat dripped down her brow.
What was happening to her?
As she glanced over, Aistride was staring at her—her own gaze fixed in a peculiar intensity. Her silver eyes lingered on Tillysha’s exposed wrist, as if drawn to it.
Uh-oh…
Tillysha realized. This forest. Something about it wasn’t right.
“Miss Aistride?”
“…” Startled from her reverie, Aistride blinked, seemingly as shaken by her own thoughts as Tillysha was.
