The creature ran quickly, but I was close behind it. Even through the mist, I could detect Loraine's energy.

Most people would have been long left in the dust, lost in a dark world full of claws and teeth, but unluckily for it, I was well-suited for this sort of situation.

It increased its speed, leaving behind its companions. I continued the chase.

When it was far enough away from my group to prevent my allies from quickly finding out where we were, it bashed Loraine's head against the ground, threw her aside, and then turned to face me.

I didn't have time to fight it. Unlike my companions, these creatures had evolved in this mist and their senses were adapted to it.

It wouldn't be long before other members of its pack caught up with us.

I tried to dash past it, but it was too fast. It swiped at me with one of its forelimbs and I barely managed to deflect the blow.

Whatever it was, it was strong.

It wouldn't be smart to turn away from it, so I started to slowly circle around to get closer to Loraine's (now somewhat injured) body. I hoped she wasn't dead.

The creature didn't make it easy, but eventually I managed to make an opening and grab the elven woman. As soon as I did, it sprung at me.

I focused all my mana into escaping. The first thing I did was cast flight magic to make it harder to track us by scent.

Almost as though the creature itself was unfolding, a paper-thin portion of its back lifted off and became a set of wings.

Silently, it jumped into the air behind us.

It took a lot of dangerous maneuvering, but after several close calls, I finally managed to shake it.

On the bright side, we now were no longer in imminent danger of being ripped apart by a horde of faceless horrors. On the other hand, we were lost in a forest of endless darkness and Loraine was in dire need of medical attention. In another fortunate turn of events, she wasn't dead yet.

Eventually, I sensed a location where diffuse mana seemed to be coming from an underground source. It turned out to be a cave.

Caves aren't typically the safest locations, as they can come with prior residents included, but I needed somewhere I could defend.

I laid Loraine down and fed her a healing potion before setting up the perimeter. The potion was a good start but, considering her condition, it wouldn't be enough.

I didn't have enough time or material for complex wards but all I really needed was a temporary extremely durable wall and a concealing formation.

By the time I was done, I was fairly confident even the leader of the creatures wouldn't find us. Our safety secured, I went to look at Loraine.

Her condition was even worse than I thought. Along with the internal organ damage, she had broken several bones and injured her spinal cord.

Carefully, I threaded my mana into her flesh to attempt to reinforce and repair the most important tissue structures.

My mana was not light-natured, so this was inefficient, difficult, and there were no guarantees it would even work.

After many hours of rather stress-inducing struggle, I finally stabilized her.

This would have been so much easier with a skilled healer.

I caught myself thinking of Johan. If he were like he used to be, he'd be helping me instead of murdering people for kicks and doing god knows what else.

That would have been...

Dwelling on the impossible was just another form of worthless sentiment. I forcefully shoved the idea aside.

My brother was dead. I would eliminate that bastard's living corpse. There was no point in wasting thought on unrelated feelings; they would not change that.

Because there was one thing I knew for certain: My brother never would have killed me. Never. No matter how much he hated me, he could never have killed me.

Just as I could never have killed him.

And yet, my existence in this world was confirmation of what I had not wanted to accept. So my last ember of hope had been extinguished.

Loraine came to consciousness. She was lying on her back on a hard, rocky surface.

Everything hurt. She was probably badly injured.

The last thing she remembered was being grabbed by one of the monsters and whipped through the forest. She didn't know if it had brought her somewhere as a captive or if she had been saved.

Someone had seemingly treated her, but it was too quiet for her to be back at the mercenary camp.

She carefully cracked open one of her eyes and tried to look around without alerting whoever was nearby that she was awake. Her friend Clarence was sitting on a rock nearby.

"You're up," he said, apparently not having been deceived for a moment by her pretense of being unconscious.

For some reason, his eyes were incredibly cold and he looked angry.

"Where are we?" Loraine asked.

"Cave. We got separated from the group. The monsters seemed very interested in you. Any idea why that would be?"

Clarence's voice was unusually calm given the circumstances, but the anger and the ice had disappeared so quickly Loraine wasn't sure if she had been imagining things.

"I'm not sure. It's my first time seeing monsters like that as well."

Clarence looked disappointed.

"Damn. I was hoping you'd know something, because I'm drawing a blank. Even anything small could give us a better chance for survival. Are you sure there isn't some detail that could help us figure out why this is happening?"

Loraine hesitated, touching her ears. She had hidden them with bandages and hair ornaments, which had somehow stayed on.

She knew revealing her secret could get her captured again. Elves were extremely valuable.

But Clarence had just risked his life to save her. They were in danger because of her. She couldn't endanger them both any more because of an unfounded suspicion.

"There is one thing I haven't told you," she said slowly.

In keeping with her word, Lenore was making preparations to covertly depart for the Iron Kingdom with Johan.

She was perfectly functional and hid it well, but he could tell.

Originally, Lenore had been maintaining a positive business relationship with him. Now, she loathed him.

She wasn't the most socially intelligent of people and wasn't particularly clever either, so she gave off the impression of a busty, clueless beauty. Many people even went so far as to insinuate that her ability to use her attractiveness as a woman was the only reason why she was high priestess.

As a fellow cleric, Johan could confidently say that those people were full of horseshit.

Light mana was no easier to manipulate than the neutral-natured mana used by most mages.

Even if she had a natural born talent for accumulating it—which she certainly did—her ability to stitch together a person from scraps of flesh barely clinging to a skeleton could only have come from countless hours of dedication and effort.

She was an impressive human. Probably one of the strongest he'd met. He had no confidence in killing her even if he were to seriously try. Yet when she looked at him, there was a trace of fear.

A voice he hadn't heard in a long time was talking to him, full of scorn. It was his own, but somehow younger.

Feeling bad now? You're pathetic.

Johan scoffed.

"It's a bit late for that, don't you think?"

There was no response.

That night, he dreamt again.

His younger brother, still a child, was looking at him, head tilted to the side.

"If we're people, shouldn't we have names?"

It was against regulation, but that was kind of the idea.

"We should. But who will name us? The way it is given is supposedly as important as the name itself."

"I want you to give me one," his younger brother replied.

He paused for a bit, looking at his younger brother and thinking.

"Solomon," he said eventually, "You should be Solomon."

His younger brother raised an eyebrow.

"The wise king?"

"Yeah. Now it's your turn."

"My turn?"

"Your turn to give me a name."

"Johan," Solomon responded immediately.

It was biblical in origin. From Yochanan, God is gracious.

"I didn't know you were religious," he said.

"I'm not. But the idea is meaningful."

"How so?"

For maybe the first time ever, Solomon looked nervous.

"Well... You became my brother, and... it's the greatest gift I could ever imagine receiving. Whatever you want to call the total of everything that affects our lives, when I see you, I think that... it can't be bad."

"Fine. Then I'll be Johan."

Solomon smiled frequently. He smiled when he talked to people he hated. He smiled when he achieved something he was particularly proud of. He smiled to manipulate people. He smiled while planning the fates of his enemies.

He was smiling now, but unlike his usual smile, it contained no calculation or cruelty. It was genuine, radiant happiness. In the light of the sun, it almost looked like he was glowing.

Internally, Johan vowed to protect him no matter what.

The scenery changed and Johan was an adult.

A white room. The cold voice of a woman. The weight of the gun in his hand. The smell of death.

And there was Solomon, holding another gun and staring at him with the eyes of a beast.

He had always been the only one who could read his brother's face.

There was pain, but not compassion.

Fear, but not guilt.

Johan was screaming, begging. He knew what would happen before it did.

The sound of gunshots.

Then Johan was awake again. He opened his eyes. They were wet.

"It's always been like that, hasn't it?" He laughed to himself.

He didn't particularly care if his neighbors heard. They were probably smart enough to pretend they didn't, and if not, he'd just kill them.