JOURNEY OF THE COFFIN GUILD
Shadow Road
Night arrived early beneath the eastern pines. The King's Road disappeared beneath towering evergreens older than kingdoms themselves. Thick roots twisted across ancient stone paving laid centuries ago by forgotten emperors. Cold mist drifted between the trunks, swallowing moonlight until the forest became a maze of shadows. The perfect place for an ambush. At least... That was what Hagen believed. Hagen had led highwaymen for nearly fifteen years. He stood well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and thickly built from years of swinging axes rather than plows. His weathered face was hidden beneath a tangled black beard streaked with gray, while an old scar ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth. A battered iron helmet rested atop shoulder-length brown hair. His armor had once belonged to three different soldiers. One steel pauldron. One leather shoulder guard. Chainmail patched together with rings from half a dozen kingdoms. Across his back rested an enormous executioner's axe whose blade was nicked from countless battles. He feared little. He had robbed nobles. Killed mercenaries. Escaped royal patrols. Survived monsters. Tonight would be easy.
The road below remained empty. Forty men waited silently among the trees. Crossbows loaded. Spears hidden beneath pine branches. Ropes stretched across the road. Several logs stood ready to roll downhill. One lookout climbed down from a rocky outcrop.
"They're coming."
Hagen smiled.
"What do you see?"
The lookout frowned.
"...One carriage."
"Only one?"
"Yes."
"No escort?"
"...No."
Hagen laughed.
"Rich fools."
The lookout hesitated.
"There is..."
He swallowed.
"...something strange."
Hagen rolled his eyes.
"Out with it."
"The horses."
"What about them?"
"They..."
The man looked uncomfortable.
"...don't breathe."
Silence. The surrounding bandits exchanged uneasy glances. One muttered quietly.
"Ghost horses?"
Another snorted.
"You're drinking again."
The lookout shook his head.
"I swear."
The carriage emerged from the mist. Every conversation stopped. It rolled without sound. Not the squeaking of wheels. Not the clatter of hooves. Nothing. Its polished black body reflected almost no moonlight, appearing more like a moving shadow than a vehicle. Silver runes shimmered faintly across its sides. Blue lanterns burned with cold flames. Hagen frowned. He had never seen craftsmanship like it. Then... He noticed the horses. The lookout had not lied. They were impossible. Towering black steeds made from living shadow. Silver eyes glowed softly. Their flowing manes dissolved into drifting mist. Each hoof struck stone...
Without making a sound.One bandit whispered,
"Those aren't horses..."
Another spoke the word no one wanted to hear.
"Necromancy."
Hagen forced himself to laugh.
"It's a trick."
"No carriage travels without passengers."
"Get ready."
The ropes tightened. Crossbows rose. Forty men surrounded the road.The carriage stopped. Exactly where Hagen wanted. Perfect. The door opened. A young noble stepped out. Hagen almost laughed. The boy looked barely eighteen. Tall. Lean. Almost delicate. Silver-blond hair framed a calm face far too handsome for a battlefield. His long black coat reached nearly to his boots, embroidered with elegant silver thread. Twin silver whips rested at his waist. Nothing more.
"No armor?"
One bandit chuckled.
"He'll surrender."
Behind him climbed another child. No... Not a child. Perhaps sixteen. Shorter than the first. Messy golden-blond hair. Bright blue eyes. Friendly face. He looked almost embarrassed. Until Hagen noticed... The axe. The weapon resting across the boy's shoulder was nearly taller than its owner. Its blade gleamed silver beneath the moon. Ancient blue runes glowed faintly across the metal.
One outlaw whispered,
"Impossible..."
Then... The earth shook. Heavy. Deliberate. Metallic footsteps echoed through the forest.
THOOM.
THOOM.
THOOM.
Trees trembled. Birds exploded into the sky. Something enormous emerged from the darkness. At first... Hagen thought it was a walking fortress. Then he realized... It was a man. Or something shaped like one. Over three meters tall. Forged from bronze, black steel, and ancient machinery. Its armor was covered with countless glowing runes. Amber eyes burned inside a knight-like helmet. Steam escaped from hidden vents. Visible gears slowly turned beneath overlapping plates. Across its back... It carried... A coffin. No ordinary coffin. An elegant standing coffin carved from black wood darker than midnight. Silver dragons wrapped around its sides. Ancient runes covered every surface. The coffin looked older than history itself.
One bandit quietly backed away.
"...I don't like this."
Hagen growled.
"It's carrying luggage."
"That's all."
No one believed him.
The older blond noble stepped forward. He looked at every hidden archer. Every spear. Every ambush. As though he had known they were there all along.
Then he spoke.
Quietly.
"Leave."
The word echoed strangely. The forest itself seemed to become quieter.
Hagen raised his axe.
"Kill them."
Everything happened too quickly. One moment... The blond noble stood alone.
The next... Silver filled the air. Nobody saw him move.
Jarek... Standing beside Hagen... Suddenly stared at empty hands. His sword was gone. He looked down. It lay neatly planted upright beside him. Another man's helmet split cleanly in two. Without touching his head. Spears shattered. Crossbows unraveled. Belts snapped. Armor straps burst apart. One by one... Weapons simply...
Disappeared.
"What"
A whip flashed.
Hagen blinked.
His axe vanished. He instinctively reached behind himself. Nothing. The boy now held it. Casually.
"...Impossible."
Someone screamed.
"He's behind us!"
"No!"
"He's over there!"
"No"
Every direction. Nowhere. Every glimpse revealed only black cloth and silver light. Like trying to fight a thunderstorm.
Then... The younger brother sighed.
"I really..."
"...don't like fighting."
Several bandits laughed nervously.
"Good."
"Neither do we."
The boy lifted his axe. Blue light erupted from ancient runes. The ground began vibrating. Trees shook violently. Pebbles bounced across the road.
One bandit stared.
"...Why is the earth moving?"
The axe swung. Not toward them. Toward the road.
The mountain exploded.
BOOOOOOOM.
The blast threw men through the air.
Trees bent. Stone erupted skyward. The road split open. A crater replaced solid ground. Several bandits landed twenty meters away.
One looked back.
The cheerful blond boy apologized.
"I'm sorry."
"...Sorry?"
The outlaw stared in horror.
"He apologized."
Half the bandits immediately fled.
Hagen roared.
"Stand your ground!"
Archers released arrows.
Or tried to.
Something landed among them.
The giant.
It had climbed the cliff.
No.
It had run straight up it.
The machine towered over them. Massive bronze hands reached outward. The archers screamed. Instead of crushing them... The giant carefully removed every bow. Bent each one. Placed them into a neat pile.
"...Please."
Its voice sounded deep.
Gentle.
"...Violence is unnecessary."
One bandit fainted. Another began praying.
Hagen stared.
"What..."
"...are these people?"
Then... Everything became cold. Not winter cold. Not mountain cold. Dead cold. Every torch extinguished simultaneously. The moon disappeared. Darkness spread unnaturally across the road. Even shadows seemed afraid.A metallic sound echoed softly.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The coffin.
Its silver clasps opened.
Slowly.
Patiently.
As though something inside had waited centuries. The lid moved. Only slightly. That was enough. Mist poured out. Not white. Black. Thick as ink. Rolling across the forest floor. Then came... The bats. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands. They emerged silently. No screeching. No fluttering. Only endless wings. They covered the sky. Blocked the moon. Covered the trees. Covered the road. Covered everything. Every pair of eyes... Glowed crimson.
One outlaw dropped his sword.
"They're watching..."
The bats circled. Not attacking. Waiting.
Someone whispered,
"...He's deciding."
A man stepped from the darkness.
Tall.
Elegant.
Hauntingly Handsome.
Terrifying.
He looked barely twenty-five. Porcelain skin. Dark hair. Ancient black robes embroidered with silver. Crimson eyes that reflected no emotion at all. He carried no weapon. He needed none. The swarm moved with him. As though night itself served him. Hagen's legs refused to move. He had fought bears. Knights. Mercenaries. Nothing had ever looked at him... Like that. The pale man smiled. Kindly. Almost gently.
"I have no quarrel with hungry men."
His voice was calm.
Cultured.
Patient.
"But those who choose cruelty..."
The bats descended lower.
"...rarely survive meeting me."
Hagen's courage shattered. He fell to his knees. Around him... Forty hardened bandits did the same. Weapons clattered across the stone road. Nobody ordered them. Nobody threatened them. They simply... Knew.
As the Crimson Covenant departed beneath the moonlight, silence lingered in the forest. No one spoke until the carriage had vanished completely.
Finally, one young outlaw whispered,
"...Who were they?"
An older bandit answered with trembling lips.
"I heard stories when I was a boy."
"My grandmother said..."
"If you ever see a giant carrying a black coffin..."
"...turn around."
Another slowly finished the old saying.
"...Because disaster has already arrived."
The youngest among them stared at the empty road, unable to forget the calm gray eyes of the silver-haired noble, the gentle smile of the blond giant, the impossible guardian of brass, or the ancient vampire who walked with the night itself.
Years later, none of them remembered how much gold they had stolen in their lives.
They remembered only one thing.
The night they tried to rob four travelers...
...and discovered they had crossed paths with the legendary Crimson Covenant.
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