The villain's side of the novel-Chapter 204 Whispers of the Cursed Forest

Captain Talon remained composed, his eyes meeting the generals with a steady gaze. He understood the gravity of the situation, recognizing that their actions would determine the course of events. "Sir, what should we do now?" he asked, his voice even and measured.

A fire burned within General Roderick's eyes, fueled by wounded pride and a thirst for retaliation. He clenched his fists, his voice booming with an unyielding determination. "If they want war, Captain, then we shall give them war. They shall witness the might of the Niram Empire firsthand!"

Talon's brows furrowed, his calm facade momentarily faltering as he contemplated the consequences of such a course of action.

"Sir," Talon began, his voice steady but tinged with concern, "we must consider the potential repercussions. The Paradas are not to be underestimated. A war with them would be a costly endeavor."

The general's gaze hardened, his jaw clenched in defiance. "I have faced battles that would make the Paradas tremble. We shall show them the might of the Niram Empire, and they will regret ever crossing us!"

Captain Talon's expression remained resolute, his voice firm. "I understand your conviction, sir. However, we must also weigh the potential loss of life and the impact it will have on our mission. Is there no alternative? Can we not find a peaceful resolution?"

General Roderick scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Peaceful resolution? There is no peace with those who dare challenge the Niram Empire. They have made their choice, and we shall respond accordingly."

Talon's gaze hardened, a flicker of determination glinting in his eyes. "Understood, sir. We will prepare the troops for the coming conflict. But let us not forget the cost of war and the lives it may claim."

As the conversation came to a close, the weight of their decisions settled upon them. The flames of the campfire danced, mirroring the intensity of the brewing conflict. The path before them was uncertain, fraught with danger and bloodshed. The clash between the Niram Empire and the Parada family loomed on the horizon, and both men knew that the repercussions would extend far beyond their own lives.

....

After two days of arduous travel, Fray found himself standing on the outskirts of a small town that lay near the foreboding Cursed Forest. The air carried a sense of unease as if the very land whispered tales of the dark forces that lurked within the dense foliage.

The town, known as Havenbrook, seemed like a haven for those seeking refuge from the perils of the surrounding wilderness. Its inhabitants seemed to live simple lives, their faces etched with weariness but also a quiet resilience that comes from living on the edge of danger.

As Fray entered the town, the atmosphere shifted, the townsfolk casting wary glances in his direction. The presence of a stranger, especially one who seemed to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders, was enough to pique their curiosity and caution.

Fray made his way through the winding streets, his eyes scanning the buildings and observing the everyday lives of the town's residents. The essence of the Cursed Forest hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

Havenbrook had its share of legends and whispered tales about the forest—stories of lost souls, malevolent creatures, and the haunting cries that echoed through the night. Superstition and fear had woven themselves into the fabric of the town, casting an invisible shadow over its inhabitants.

Fray sought a moment's respite from his journey and the weight of his responsibilities. He found solace in a humble inn, its sign creaking in the wind as if echoing the stories of the cursed forest. Inside, the innkeeper greeted him with a cautious smile, his eyes betraying a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"Welcome to the Whispering Oak Inn," the innkeeper said, his voice hushed. "Are you here to face the forest's curse as well?"

Fray asked confused " As well!? What do you mean?"

The innkeeper leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're not the first one. A month ago, a young girl arrived, seeking answers. And in the past three days, five more individuals have ventured into the town, each with a desire to enter the cursed forest."

Fray's interest was piqued. "Five individuals? Are they still in town?"

The innkeeper nodded, his expression filled with concern. "One of them is still staying here at the inn. The others set out into the forest."

Fray sat at the bar of the Whispering Oak Inn, nursing a drink as he contemplated his next move. The conversations around him blended into a cacophony of hushed whispers and murmurs, the townsfolk exchanging rumors and tales of the cursed forest. The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, adding to the sense of foreboding that permeated the atmosphere.

Suddenly, the creaking of wooden stairs drew Fray's attention. His gaze shifted towards the source of the sound, and his eyes met the figure descending with a graceful stride. It was a man with obsidian-black skin and a big bow slung across his back.

"F-Fray!" Lysander exclaimed, his surprise evident in his voice as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Fray's expression remained stoic and cold as he regarded Lyander. "Lysander," he acknowledged with a curt nod.

Lysander approached Fray, a warm smile playing on his lips despite the tense atmosphere. "It's been a while, Fray, how have you been ?"

Fray raised an eyebrow. "What brings you here, Lysander?"

Lysander took a seat beside Fray, his smile fading slightly as he tried to avoid Fray's question. "I've been traveling, seeking answers to questions that have plagued my mind," he replied evasively.

Fray's gaze remained fixed on Lysander, his eyes piercing through the veiled words. However, he chose not to press further, understanding that some things were better left unsaid.

"Very well," Fray responded curtly, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. "We all have our reasons for being here."

The air between them grew heavy with unspoken words, and for a moment, silence enveloped their shared space at the bar. The whispers of the townsfolk mingled with the distant sound of wind rustling through the cursed forest, adding an eerie backdrop to their conversation.

Lysander leaned against the bar, as he said . "however Fray I heard a lot of plentiful tales about this forest. They say the forest is haunted by vengeful spirits, their whispers carried on the wind. Some speak of hidden treasures and ancient artifacts buried deep within the foliage. And some claim to have glimpsed mythical creatures roaming its shadows."

The innkeeper, hearing Lysander's words with a smile, interjected. "Ah, you are intrigued by the forest's secrets, I see. Many brave souls have ventured into those dark woods, each returning with a different story to tell."

The innkeeper and Lyander continued their conversation, discussing the rumors and legends that surrounded the cursed forest. The stories blended with the flickering candlelight, creating an atmosphere of mystery and anticipation. As the two immersed themselves in the narratives of the town, Fray, quit with a stoic expression looking out the window his eyes drawn to the massive rows of dark trees that marked the edge of the cursed forest. The moonlight bathed the forest in an eerie glow, casting long shadows that seemed to dance among the branches.

Suddenly as the innkeeper excused himself and stepped away, Lysander's smile remained fixed upon his face, he leaned towards Fray.

"Fray," Lysander began, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of urgency, "Don't panic. But this place we're in, it's not what it seems. I believe we have already crossed the threshold into the forest."