At the main gates, exactly as Loki had promised, waited an impressive carriage clearly built for both speed and comfort.

It was larger than typical transport vehicles—easily twice the size of a standard merchant cart. The entire structure was crafted from dark wood that seemed to absorb light, with faint veins of magical energy pulsing through the grain like luminescent blood vessels.

Intricate magical runes covered every visible surface, glowing with soft blue light. Protective enchantments, speed enhancement spells, comfort charms, defensive barriers—this wasn't just transportation, this was a mobile fortress.

Four massive black demon horses stood at the front. Each one easily eight feet tall at the shoulder, muscles rippling with supernatural power beneath midnight-dark coats. Their eyes glowed eerie red, and wisps of shadow drifted constantly from their hooves like dark smoke.

A stern-faced driver sat at the front—one of Loki's demon guards. He nodded respectfully. "Ready when you are, Lord Satou. We'll reach the forest's edge by tomorrow evening."

Satou turned back one final time.

Lyra stood at the settlement gates, watching him leave. Despite her earlier tears, she was smiling now—genuine confidence and support. She raised one hand in farewell, waving slowly.

Satou returned the gesture, raising his own hand and holding it there for a moment. Lyra standing at the gates of the settlement they'd built together, sending him off to eliminate the threat that had tried to destroy him.

Then he climbed into the carriage.

The interior was surprisingly spacious—spatial expansion magic making it significantly bigger than the exterior suggested. Cushioned leather seats arranged for six passengers facing each other. Magical lighting provided soft illumination. Small enchanted windows offered views of the landscape. Storage compartments held supplies for the journey.

Freda settled into one corner seat, pulling out a thick magical tome and clutching it like a comforting talisman. Her green eyes darted nervously between the book and her companions.

Urgot took the seat across from her, eyes wide as he processed everything. His first real mission beyond the settlement's borders.

Kelvin and Grimnir positioned themselves near the door, years of combat experience making them automatically defensive even in safe situations.

Shadow remained standing near the carriage door rather than sitting, that mysterious presence somehow even more unsettling in the confined space.

Satou took the remaining seat where he could observe everyone and monitor their surroundings through the window.

The moment everyone was settled, the carriage lurched into motion.

The demon horses pulled forward with supernatural strength, hooves striking the ground in perfect rhythm. The movement was surprisingly smooth—enchantments doing their work. Within minutes, the settlement disappeared behind them as they headed into the wilderness at inhuman speed.

The landscape began changing immediately. Hospitable terrain around the settlement—forests, grasslands, clear streams—gradually gave way to rockier, more barren ground. Trees became twisted and sparse. Grass thinned to hardy scrub vegetation. The sky itself took on a gray quality despite the afternoon sun.

This was true wilderness now. Dangerous territory where survival required constant vigilance and strength.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. The only sounds were rhythmic wheel clatter, steady breathing, occasional wood creaks, and distant creature cries.

The carriage rolled steadily toward the Illusion Forest. Toward Merc Assault's fortress. Toward vengeance.

The journey had truly begun.

—-------

Hours passed in relative silence as the carriage rolled steadily forward. The sun climbed higher in the sky, then began its slow descent toward afternoon. They'd covered significant distance, putting many miles between themselves and the settlement.

Satou sat near the window, his enhanced senses monitoring their surroundings even as his mind wandered through tactical considerations for the mission ahead. Grimnir and Kelvin maintained their watchful positions. Urgot had dozed off briefly, his head nodding forward. Freda was absorbed in her magical tome, occasionally glancing up at the passing landscape. Shadow remained standing, a silent sentinel by the door.

Then Satou's nostrils flared.

The scent hit him like a physical blow—blood, death, and something else. Something that made his demonic instincts scream danger. But underneath the metallic tang of blood, he could smell something that made his chest tighten.

Tears. The scent of crying children.

"Stop the carriage!" Satou commanded, his voice cutting through the peaceful atmosphere like a blade. "Now!"

The driver immediately pulled the reins, the demon horses coming to an abrupt halt with supernatural precision. Before the wheels had fully stopped moving, Satou had already kicked the door open and launched himself out of the carriage.

His feet hit the ground running, supernatural speed carrying him toward the source of that heartbreaking scent. The smell of blood grew stronger with each step, mixed with smoke, fear, and despair.

"Brother, wait!" Kelvin's voice called out behind him, followed immediately by the heavy footfalls of both him and Grimnir giving chase.

Inside the carriage, Urgot had jerked awake at the sudden stop and immediately moved to follow. But Kelvin's voice rang out clearly as he ran: "Urgot, stay with the carriage! Guard Freda and Shadow! Lord Satou and I are enough to handle whatever this is!"

The young orc's face fell with obvious disappointment. His first real mission and he was being told to stay behind while the action happened elsewhere. But orders were orders, especially from his seniors. "Yes, sir!" he called back, though the sadness in his voice was unmistakable.

Satou barely registered the exchange, his entire focus narrowed to the scene unfolding before him as he crested a small rise.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

Bodies. Dozens of them scattered across what had once been fertile ground but now looked like a battlefield. Men, women, children, elderly—all members of what appeared to be a lizard-folk race based on their scaled skin and reptilian features. They lay in twisted positions, their bodies showing signs of brutal violence.

Some had been cut down mid-flight, their backs bearing the evidence of cowardly attacks. Others showed signs of torture—burns, broken limbs, deep lacerations that spoke of deliberate cruelty rather than quick kills. A few of the children's bodies were clustered together, as if they'd been trying to protect each other in their final moments.

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