Storm of Shadows

Chapter 3

Alan’s eyes widened as he instinctively stumbled backward. He stared at Malcolm’s lifeless body, struggling to understand what he had just witnessed.

Standing behind the fallen Hunter was one of the three unfamiliar young men. His sword was still stained with blood, and a satisfied grin spread across his face.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Howard shouted, staring at him in horror. “Why did you kill him?!”

Only then did Alan fully realize how little he knew about these strangers.

He had participated in several Level One domain raids with this group. He knew most of the Hunters who regularly took on such assignments, at least by face. Yet these three men were complete strangers, and something about their presence had bothered him ever since they entered the domain.

Now, as he looked at them, a troubling realization finally clicked into place.

‘That’s right.’ His gaze swept across the three men. ‘There isn’t a single healer among them.’

It might have seemed like an insignificant detail, but every experienced Hunter understood the importance of having someone capable of treating injuries during a raid. Even the most straightforward expedition carried risks.

Yet there wasn't a single healer among them, unless they must have taken the place of the healer they should have had, and probably not just him.

Before Alan could think further, one of the men casually raised his hand.

An icy spike materialized in the air and shot toward Howard.

The attack happened so quickly that no one had time to react.

“Ugh!”

Howard staggered as the spike pierced his stomach. He dropped to his knees, clutching the wound as blood seeped between his fingers.

“Howard!”

Renard rushed toward his friend, but Howard was already collapsing. His body pitched forward, and he landed face-first on the ground.

He didn’t move again.

“Howard!!!”

Renard fell to his knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders and desperately shaking him.

“No, no, no! Wake up!”

His voice trembled as he turned toward the three men, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Why?! What did he do to you? He wasn’t even… he didn't want to be here… he’s got a wife and children to take care of! Why?!!”

One of the strangers chuckled and shook his head as though Renard had said something amusing.

“I’m sure none of you realized that today was your execution.” His eyes swept over the remaining Hunters with open contempt. “You low-level Hunters really are too comfortable with your miserable lives.”

The other two men laughed.

A cold shiver ran down Alan’s spine.

This wasn’t a misunderstanding. They hadn’t attacked Malcolm and Howard because of some disagreement, nor were they trying to steal the resources the team had collected.

They had come here intending to kill them.

Alan slowly began backing away, his mind racing as fear threatened to overwhelm him.

‘I can’t die here.’

He didn’t care about the resources anymore. He didn’t care about the domain or the boss they had been sent to eliminate.

He just wanted to survive.

His mother was still waiting for treatment, and his little sister had no one else to depend on. If he died here, there would be nobody left to help them.

One of the women suddenly turned and ran, unable to bear the sight of the slaughter any longer.

She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when something dropped from the branches above.

A small, green-skinned creature landed in front of her, its sharp teeth exposed in a vicious snarl. Clawed fingers dug into the earth, while thorn-like growths protruded from its back.

The woman screamed.

Then another creature dropped from the trees.

And another.

Within moments, several small monsters had surrounded the Hunters, blocking their escape routes.

Alan recognized them immediately.

Thorn Goblins.

They were common monsters in forest domains, usually found hiding among trees or beneath thick vegetation. Individually, they weren’t particularly dangerous to a well-trained Hunter, but their numbers and tendency to attack from unexpected angles made them troublesome.

Yet the three strangers seemed completely unconcerned.

“You’re scared of ordinary goblins?” one of them mocked. “Hahaha! What a hassle.”

He casually swept his hand through the air and a brilliant light suddenly erupted around the group.

Alan reacted on instinct, ducking and squeezing his eyes shut as the brightness flooded his vision. He trembled in fear as he heard screams, followed by the sharp crackle of something burning.

Then everything fell silent.

He cautiously opened his eyes.

The Thorn Goblins lay scattered across the ground, their bodies blackened and smoking. The two women who had been standing nearby had also fallen.

Their bodies were horribly burned, the light having consumed everything from their faces down to their waists.

Alan’s stomach lurched.

He stared at the scene in disbelief, unable to comprehend how easily the strangers had slaughtered everyone around them.

Only two people remained alive besides the three attackers.

Himself and Renard.

Alan’s heart hammered against his chest as he slowly backed away. He could feel his hands trembling, and his legs seemed barely capable of supporting his weight.

These men were obviously far stronger than the Hunters in this raid. C-Rank? B-Rank? Perhaps even A-Rank?

He couldn’t be certain, but their abilities were clearly beyond anything he could hope to fight.

And if they were that powerful, why had they entered a Level One domain? What could they possibly want in a place filled with low-level monsters and ordinary resources?

Renard seemed to be wondering the same thing.

He rose slowly from beside Howard’s body, his face pale with grief and anger.

“What do you want?” he demanded, staring at the three men with pain in his eyes. “Why are you doing this? Who the hell are you people?”

One of them smirked.

“If you must know before you die, we’re members of the Liberator Alliance.”

The name meant nothing to Alan at that moment, but the way the man said it made one thing clear. He was proud of what they were doing.

Another stepped forward.

“Our goal is to rewrite the world’s magical laws. To change the way this world operates.”

“And anyone who stands in our way,” the third added coldly, “must die.”

Renard’s expression twisted with disbelief.

“Rewrite the magical laws? What does that even mean? You can’t just kill innocent people because…”

He never finished speaking.

The third man raised his sword and swung it through the air.

A sharp, horizontal slash tore across the space between them.

Renard’s body went still.

A thin line of blood appeared across his face before he collapsed to the ground, dead before he could even understand what had happened.

Alan felt as though the world had stopped turning.

Everyone was dead.

Malcolm. Howard. Renard. And the two women.

They had entered the domain expecting to collect a few resources and return home. Now their bodies littered the forest floor, and the men responsible stood among them as though they had done nothing more than clear away an inconvenience.

Then the three strangers turned toward Alan and he froze.

Their eyes settled on him, and the last trace of hope inside him began to crumble.

“Please,” he stammered, stumbling backward. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear I won’t say anything. I won’t get in your way.”

One of the men tilted his head, studying him with mild amusement.

Alan knew his words wouldn’t save him.

He had seen their faces. He had heard their plans. More importantly, he had witnessed them slaughter an entire team of Hunters without hesitation.

They wouldn’t leave a witness alive.

His breathing grew ragged as he looked for an escape. The trees behind him were too dense, and the path they had taken was blocked. His gaze darted toward the stream, realizing it might be his only chance.

Then he turned and ran.

He heard someone laugh behind him, then something sharp tore through his back.

His body jerked immediately, and a strangled gasp escaped his throat. The force of the attack sent him stumbling forward, his legs giving way.

The next moment, he fell into the stream with a splash.

Cold water swallowed him as he sank beneath the surface. Pain spread through his back, and his limbs grew heavy as blood drifted around him.

He tried to move and swim, but his body refused to respond.

Above him, the sunlight shimmered across the water, breaking into countless fragments that danced just beyond his reach.

Alan thought of his mother and his little sister.

‘I’m sorry.’

His vision blurred as the water carried him farther from the bank.

He had promised himself that he would find a way to save his mom. He had endured the humiliation, the injuries, and the constant reminder that he was weaker than everyone around him.

But he hadn’t even managed to buy the healing potion and now he was going to die without accomplishing anything.

The thought hurt more than the wound in his back.

His eyes slowly closed.

On the riverbank, one of the three men watched the stream for a moment before turning away.

“Now that they’re all dead, let’s deal with the boss and search for the relic.”

He glanced toward the deeper part of the forest, where their real objective awaited.

“This is another step toward the master’s plan.”