Chapter 104: Silence Before the Blade

A massive boar tore through the forest in a frenzy. Its body shook with every step, driven by raw instinct, fleeing from the thing that hunted it. This wasn’t just a chase. It was torture. Something was playing with it.

A knife sliced through the air, too fast. The boar dodged at the last second, and the blade embedded itself into a tree with a heavy thunk. More followed, whistling past the leaves, forcing it to zigzag wildly.

The forest had become a maze of threats.

Branches rustled. Shadows darted between the canopies. The predator was closing in.

Then came the mist.

Black. Thick. Unnatural. As if the forest itself was being devoured by darkness. The boar tried to run, but the fog swallowed it, hungry arms blotting out the world. It squealed and slashed at the air, but nothing cleared that choking gloom.

A voice pierced the silence.

“Goodbye.”

It was the last thing the boar ever heard.

Something grabbed it, then a blade slipped clean through its skull from the side, silent and precise.

[You have slain an Iron-Tusk Boar – Lvl 11]

***

Luke had been lost in that forest for two days.

He’d thought he was just outside the urban fringe of the Wild Zone. He was wrong. He was much farther than he’d realized. The only landmark left was the river, a silver serpent slicing through enemy territory, but now it felt more like a trap than a guide.

The problem was clear: the orc army knew he was out here.

The riverbanks were locked down. Patrols everywhere. Makeshift camps. Orcs mounted on wolves and horses, roaming in pairs or trios… and worse, Beast Captains moving in groups.

Getting anywhere near the water was suicide.

His only option was to vanish deeper into the forest, steering clear of trails and open clearings. He’d done this before, but now the orcs were more alert. More vicious.

Sometimes he heard hoofbeats cutting through the trees, forcing him to climb silently into the upper branches, where sunlight barely reached. He’d lie motionless on the limbs, cloak drawn over him, even controlling his breath.

The tension never left. One wrong sound could mean death.

Even with enough food in his storage item, he hunted a boar. Not just out of caution — out of survival. He didn’t know how long he’d be wandering or what he might face. Better to stock up now than starve later.

He cleaned the meat quickly, stripped and packed it. When needed, he could roast a piece using his fire ring, masking the glow under his cloak. Even eating had to be stealthy now.

He crept close to the river, filled his wooden barrel, then moved on.

The forest ahead was dark, dense, suffocating. In the distance, he could see the towering edge of the cliff. If only his [Wraith Form] allowed him to fly… but it didn’t. At best, he could hover a meter above the ground with great effort.

He sighed and kept walking.

***

Night had fallen, and the rain hadn’t let up. Luke sat huddled beneath a massive tree, thick leaves above shielding him from the worst of it. Droplets still slipped through, trailing down like tiny rivers. It had been hours since he’d seen or heard any sign of orcs, which only made him more paranoid.

He bit into a piece of roasted meat, only to flinch as a hand reached toward his face.

“You don’t have to wipe my mouth,” he muttered, giving Charlie a tired look.

She’d taken a bit of his cloak and folded it like an improvised napkin. When scolded, she just shrugged, giving off an unmistakable vibe of: ‘That’s just how I am.’

Luke sighed. Less than a minute later, she tried again, persistent as always. In the end, he gave up and let her dab at his face.

Even in the middle of all this chaos, having Charlie around brought an odd sense of comfort. Especially after a few nights where, half-asleep, he’d caught her watching him while he slept.

“We’ve got food, water, and two healing potions,” he said, finishing the last bite. “Well… technically, those things are just for me. You recharge by returning to my soul, remember?”

He looked at her, tilting his head. “By the way, I’ve never asked… do you feel hunger?”

Charlie shook her head.

“Makes sense,” he muttered, resting his chin on his knees. “But now I’m wondering… would a healing potion even work on you? I mean, you’re all bones. Do they only work if you swallow them, or can you just pour one on a wound?”

She shrugged, clearly unsure.

Luke made a mental note.

“Right. Add to list: test if potions work via direct contact with wounds. Because if I’m ever choking on my own blood, I’d like a chance to survive without needing to swallow a drop.”

He gave her a serious look.

“Charlie, if that ever happens, just pour the potion on the wound. Got it?”

She nodded solemnly.

They sat in silence for a bit, the rain a soft hiss in the background. Then Luke said, “By the way… ever since you got those Iron Bones, I haven’t actually seen what they look like. Mind taking off the armor? I want to see how you look without anything on.”

Charlie froze.

Her entire posture stiffened, then slumped slightly in what Luke could only describe as embarrassed. If she had skin, he was sure she’d be blushing.

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“Ah—wait! I meant just the glove!” he blurted, realizing how bad that had sounded given the situation with her. “Just the glove’s fine!”

Great job, idiot, he thought. She walked around naked as a skeleton for days, and now she gets shy?

Charlie hesitated a moment longer, then removed the glove.

She revealed a skeletal hand. It looked familiar, but when he touched it, the difference was obvious. Cold. Solid. Durable. Not bone anymore, metal, the exact color of bone.

“Holy crap… you’re like some undead Wolverine,” Luke muttered.

Charlie calmly slipped the glove back on.

Since the upgrade, she had become something far more than just resilient. The [Iron Bones] combined with her [Bone Endurance] had turned her into something dense, heavy, and entirely built for punishment. Add in [Basic Bone Regeneration], which let her rebuild shattered parts at the cost of HP, and Luke was sure that the fragile skeleton he had met would feel envy.

Charlie wasn’t just his companion.

She was a walking fortress.

***

The two moved through the forest, following a narrow stream. It wasn’t the main river but a small offshoot, winding between thick trees. Luke could’ve jumped over it without effort. It was so thin, it looked more like a deep groove in the earth than a true waterway.