Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins - Chapter 87: The Hero and the Villain

... ning to pierce through the dense, oppressive canopy of the forest. The air was cool and damp, thick with the scent of wet earth and the lingering, metallic tang of blood. We were about to reach the village, and I was holding Lana in my arms.

Yeah, Lana was the same four-year-old girl, the one whose innocent eyes had pulled me back from the abyss. She had thrown a series of impressive, and surprisingly effective, tantrums, refusing to walk with her own mother, insisting that only her "unc ...