Chapter 6: Shadows of Betrayal  

Swish.  

Dave scanned the surroundings, his instincts on high alert. 

The child was bait—there had to be others nearby.  

“Hey, kid, you alone?” he asked, eyes darting cautiously.  

The child responded, “For now.”  

For now?  

Dave had expected a simple yes or no. 

“For now” implied the kid hadn’t always been alone.  

“Then where are the others?” he pressed, a hint of unease in his voice.  

“Well…” The child trailed off, fear flickering across their face.  

A theory formed in Dave’s mind. 

He scrutinized the kid—light clothing, no armor, and a single pouch. Clearly a porter’s outfit.  

“They’re all dead. Killed by a monster,” the child continued.  

Dave’s suspicion solidified. The kid was a porter, the sole survivor of a group.  

“What kind of monster?” he asked.  

“It had four arms and was huge.”  

Dave’s eyes widened. He knew exactly what that was.  

“An Arfow?”  

“I don’t know its name. It had four arms and red eyes.”  

“Was its fur gray?”  

“Yes! That’s it!”  

Ugh… Dave groaned inwardly.  

An Arfow is bad news.  

Arfows were agile monsters, practically gliding through treetops. 

In the tree-dense Great Forest, they were a nightmare to face.  

What now?  

They needed something unique to the Great Forest to avoid suspicion.  

Wait.  

His gaze flicked to the child’s pouch. 

Why had the kid’s group ventured into the forest? To gather something valuable. 

The pouch likely held monster byproducts or herbs from the forest.  

“I’d love to take you to the village,” Dave said, trailing off as he glanced at Max and Breed. 

“But we need to collect some things from the forest.”  

“Oh…” 

The child sighed, but their eyes suddenly sparkled. 

“Are you looking for monster byproducts or herbs?”  

Dave’s suspicion was confirmed—the pouch held what they needed.  

Perfect.  

No need to risk the forest now.  

“You want to come with us to the village, don’t you?” he said.  

“Please! I don’t know the way, and I’m scared…”  

“Let me talk to my friends. Wait here.”  

Dave led Max and Breed a short distance away. 

Max spoke first, his voice cold.  

“Why not kill him now? That pouch probably has what we need.”  

Breed nodded in agreement.  

Dave shook his head. 

“We can kill him after we get information. Arfow details could be useful, and he might know more. Plus, we can refine our excuse—say we encountered an Arfow and lost Jeff and Wislin.”  

Max and Breed’s eyes lit up, and they grinned in unison.  

Dave smirked back. 

“Good, we’re on the same page.”  

Turning back to the child, he saw their tense expression.  

“We’ll come back later. Let’s head to the village together,” Dave said.  

“What about the byproducts or herbs?”  

“No worries. Just tell us about the forest.”  

“Of course!”  

“What’s your name?”  

The child smiled brightly. “Gaon!”  

“And going this way leads to Tren Village?” Gaon asked.  

“Yep, just one more day,” Dave nodded, thinking, I’ve gotten all the info I need.  

Gaon had shared plenty, but the most shocking revelation was the Arfow’s habitat—Darman Forest, the edge of the Central Great Forest.  

Something’s happened deeper inside.  

Arfows didn’t typically inhabit Darman Forest. 

They must have been driven out from deeper within.  

This info could fetch a high price.  

Dave grinned, signaling Max and Breed. It was time to wrap things up.  

Max and Breed exchanged glances, and Max quietly drew his dagger, creeping behind Gaon. 

He thrust it toward Gaon’s neck.  

Clang!  

The sound and sensation startled Max. 

Something was wrong.  

Instinctively, he leaped back. 

Dave and Breed followed suit, drawing their sword and axe.  

Thud. 

Thud.  

Max and Breed collapsed, still breathing but unconscious—as if asleep.  

“What are you doing?!” 

Dave shouted, panic creeping in.  

No response.  

Wait… magic?  

A chill ran through him. 

This wasn’t a prank. 

They were truly asleep, likely felled by magic.  

He locked eyes with Gaon, whose gaze had turned icy.  

A mage.  

Max and Breed had been taken down by magic.  

Damn it.  

But then—Why didn’t he put me to sleep?  

Dave’s eyes narrowed. Is he out of mana?  

He didn’t know much about magic, but he knew it required mana. 

Was Gaon recovering, waiting for his chance?  

This is my shot!  

Dave charged, sword raised.  

Crack!  

He froze mid-step, not by choice.  

“Argh!”  

Agony seared through him. 

His legs, from feet to thighs, were encased in ice.  

Gaon spoke, his voice cold. “Why is it always so predictable?”  

He had known Dave, Max, and Breed meant harm but held back for two reasons: to extract information and to entertain the slim chance they might only be scheming.  

“People like you never change, no matter how much time passes.”  

“Is it inevitable?”  

“P-please, spare me!” Dave pleaded, suppressing his pain.  

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” Gaon said icily. “Answer honestly. You’re not the only one who can talk.”  

“Y-yes, I understand!”  

Gaon muttered, and the ice melted away.  

“When did the demonic invasion begin?”  

Initially, Gaon had assumed the invasion from fifty years ago had never ended. 

But what if it had, and a new one had begun?

It wasn’t impossible—history recorded a second invasion thirty years after another.  

“Huh?” Dave blinked, confused by the question.  

Gaon’s brow furrowed, and Dave quickly answered, “Fifty years ago.”  

So it’s not a second invasion.  

The bizarre reality of a fifty-year-long invasion held true.  

When Gaon didn’t respond, Dave added nervously, “It was a massive invasion—hundreds of rifts opened, unlike before.”  

Gaon’s eyes widened slightly. Hundreds?  

Past invasions had opened no more than fifty rifts. 

Hundreds explained why it hadn’t been stopped.  

“How many rifts remain?”  

“I-I don’t know, I swear!” Dave stammered. 

“But I’ve heard many still linger in the betrayers’ territories and the corrupted regions.”  

Betrayers?  

Gaon frowned. 

Why mention betrayers in the context of the invasion?  

A grim possibility surfaced.  

“Which nations betrayed?”  

“Daion, Baren, Mortin, Karell, Bastasha, Myun, and Bradel Kingdoms.”  

Gaon fell silent. Daion, Baren, and Mortin were northern kingdoms; Karell, Bastasha, Myun, and Bradel were eastern ones. Their betrayal explained the invasion’s persistence.  

Damn them. I should’ve crushed them long ago.  

He clenched his jaw, and Dave swallowed hard, sensing his fury.  

A tense silence followed.  

Then Gaon spoke. 

“What about the Varta Empire?”  

“The Varta Empire?” Dave hesitated, then cautiously asked, “Do you mean the Varta Kingdom?”  

What?  

Gaon’s shock was palpable. 

The Varta Empire, unmatched fifty years ago with numerous allies, reduced to a kingdom?  

How?  

“I don’t know much,” Dave said, eyeing Gaon warily. “It’s far away, but I heard recently things aren’t good.”  

Gaon’s frown deepened. 

A kingdom, and in trouble? 

It could be mere rumor, or a minor issue, but he couldn’t dismiss it.  

I need to see for myself.  

He resolved to investigate the Varta Kingdom’s state personally.