A few days passed.

  The capital was slowly returning to its normal rhythm after the festival, but for me the stopping time was already over. There is one day left to set off.

  Our trip was supposed to be long.

  We still had to travel half the continent — about a year away. And then the demon continent, which, according to maps and reports, was supposed to take another six months.

  It was not a journey.

  It was an expedition.

  Before the last meeting of the whole group, where we were supposed to discuss the details of the march, I decided to pick up the elf.

  The forest looked the same as before. Quiet, cool, peaceful. Traces of training were visible only up close — trampled ground, a few trunks with cuts from blades.

  I saw them almost immediately.

  The elf practiced her dagger moves. Her steps were lighter than a few days ago. The body moved more smoothly.

  She was no longer afraid.

  She was no longer the same person I had bought in the cage.

  She was trained.

  Her reactions were faster. Eyes more focused.

  However, I also saw her weaknesses.

  She couldn't really kill yet.

  She stopped traffic just before the point of death.

  And when she wasn't focused, she kept getting clumsy. She stumbled slightly, lost her rhythm.

  It could have been fixed.

  Practice.

  The assassin stood a few steps away, watching her in silence.

  When he saw me, he smiled slightly.

  "He's a quick learner," he said calmly. "Faster than most.

  I nodded.

  The elf stepped aside and stood quietly, as if she knew the conversation was no longer about her.

  I looked at the assassin for a moment.

  I remembered the conditions.

  One gold coin.

  A large sum.

  I wasn't the kind of person who liked to share money.

  Especially with such a quantity.

  "She did her job well," he said. "I deserve to be paid."

  He held out his hand.

  I looked at her for a moment.

  I could have paid.

  I could have left.

  But then I thought of something else.

  About a power that I still didn't fully understand.

  The one who sometimes reacted to my words.

  I wasn't sure of her limits.

  But I was curious.

  I looked him straight in the eyes.

  "Die," I said calmly.

  There was no anger in it.

  There were no emotions.

  Just a recommendation.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then his body stiffened.

  His eyes widened slightly, as if he was trying to say something.

  He didn't make it.

  He slumped to the ground.

  Quiet.

  No fight.

  No shouting.

  I stood over him for a moment.

  The elf didn't say a word.

  I lifted my leg and kicked my body slightly to the side.

  It didn't move.

  I did it again.

  I wanted to be sure.

  I didn't trust this power.

  Not yet.

  The body rolled heavily on its side.

  He was not breathing.

  He did not react.

  He was dead.

  I looked at him in silence for a few seconds.

  Then I turned to the elf.

  "We're going back," I said calmly.

  She didn't ask questions.

  And that's good.

  Because I didn't have an answer to them either.

  We returned to the city together.

  The way out of the forest was calm. I walked forward, the elf a few steps behind me. We didn't speak for a long time. I didn't need a conversation—I was already thinking about the next step.

  Group meeting.

  I had to decide how to present it.

  I didn't want to say that she was an assassin. Even if she was just learning it, such information would only raise unnecessary questions. And the questions lead to curiosity. Curiosity about problems.

  As we approached the city center, I slowed down a bit.

  "What do you actually know?" I asked, without turning my head.

  The elf was silent for a moment, as if wondering about the answer.

  "Before..." I came to you," she said quietly, "I served with a nobleman.

  I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.

  "What did you do?"

  "I cooked.

  Her voice was calm. No shame. No pride. Just a fact.

  I stopped for a moment.

  This solved one problem.

  She didn't know how to use magic. She wasn't good with a sword. Her only real weapon was daggers—perfect for an assassin, but too suspicious to explain in front of the whole team.

  The cookbook was a much simpler solution.

  I moved on.

  "Then you'll be the team's cook," I said calmly.

  She did not protest.

  She didn't look surprised either.

  Maybe she had already understood that everyone in this group had to have a role.

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  We entered the building where the meeting was taking place. The room was almost full. Most of the team members sat at the tables, talking about the route, wrestling, or just drinking.

  The door creaked when I opened it.

  Several people turned their heads.

  Then another.

  And more.

  Everyone's gaze stopped on the elf standing behind me.

  There was a surprise in it.

  Maybe even a slight tension.

  People didn't like elves. It was not a secret. In many places they were treated as enemies, in others as cheap slaves.

  For a moment no one said anything.

  I went deeper into the room and stopped at the main table.

  "He's with us from today," I said aloud.

  I pointed slightly at the elf.

  "She will be our field cook.

  The silence lasted a second.

  Then someone smiled.

  "Cook?" One of the mercenaries said. "Finally something good.

  A few people laughed.

  "I hope she cooks better than that old grandfather from the previous trip," muttered someone behind.

  The atmosphere relaxed almost immediately.

  No one asked questions.

  No one protested.

  On the contrary, many looked satisfied. Good cuisine during a long trip was more important than most people wanted to admit.

  Even if humans didn't like elves, they could turn a blind eye to it when it came to food.

  I looked at the elf.

  She stood calmly, slightly to the side. She didn't say anything, she didn't try to attract attention.

  Good.

  The shadow was her natural place.

  I sat down at the table.

  "Good," I said coldly. "Let's start the meeting. Tomorrow we set off.

  We started discussing travel plans.

  The map lay unfolded in the middle of the table. The thick parchment was already worn out—old notes, corrections, marked trade routes, and places that most people would prefer to avoid.

  I sat closer to the table and rested my hands on the edge of it.

  "We have to decide which way to go," said one of the scouts, swiping his finger across the map.

  A few people leaned closer.

  There were three roads.

  The first led along a wide trade route. The safest, well patrolled, with many villages and trading posts.

  But also the longest.

  The second one crossed several mountain passes. Shorter, but more difficult — especially in winter.

  The third...

  The third was an almost straight line through a huge area marked with a darker color.

  Forest.

  Not an ordinary forest.

  Forest of Death.

  The name itself was enough of a warning.

  "If we go down the merchant's route, we will lose a few months," said someone on the other side of the table.

  "But at least we will survive," replied another.

  Silence hung over the table for a moment.

  I shifted my gaze to the map.

  The Forest of Death was huge. According to reports, some of the most powerful monsters on the entire continent lurked there. Creatures that most teams of adventurers have not even tried to provoke.

  Some of them were older than the kingdoms.

  "Even an S-rank seeker would have a problem in the middle of this forest," muttered one of the veterans.

  I nodded slightly.

  It was true.

  But the map also showed something else.

  The road did not lead through the center.

  I swiped my finger along the edge of the selected area.

  "We don't have to go inside," I said calmly.

  A few people looked at me.

  "We can go this way."

  I showed a narrow strip of land running along the border of the forest.

  — To tylko kraniec.

  The forest in this place was sparser. According to the maps, monsters from the deep rarely ventured that far.

  Rarely.

  Never.

  "It's still the Forest of Death," someone said quietly.

  "Yes," I answered.

  I didn't try to hide it.

  "But if we go this way, we will shorten the journey by a few months."

  For a moment, everyone analyzed the map in silence.

  Time was important to us.

  We had a year to go through the rest of the continent.

  And then another six months on the continent of demons.

  Every month saved now mattered later.

  "Risk..." one of the archers began.

  "It's smaller on the edge," I interrupted calmly. "We won't go deep. We stick to the edge and go fast.

  Someone sighed heavily.

  "They can still find us," he said.

  "They can," I answered.

  There was no point in pretending otherwise.

  Finally, one of the veterans leaned back in his chair and looked at the map again.

  "If we go in the middle of the continent, it won't be safe either," he muttered. "Bandits, monsters, mountains...

  Slowly, a few heads began to nod in agreement.

  Not because the road was safe.

  Because she was the fastest.

  "That is, the end of the Forest of Death," someone said at last.

  I looked at the map again.

  The dark area of the forest seemed to almost overflow from the parchment.

  A place that swallowed hundreds of travelers.

  "Yes," I said calmly. "We'll walk along its edge.

  The decision was made.

  Now all that was left was to check if the forest would allow us to pass.

  After deciding on the route, the conversation did not end immediately.

  The map was still on the table, but now we started discussing other things. The road itself was only part of the problem. Equally important was how we would move.

  One of the larger expeditions rarely falls apart by monsters.

  More often through chaos.

  "We need to establish a march formation," said one of the scouts, tapping his finger on the table. "If we run into something in the woods, we can't run around like a bunch of merchants."

  A few people nodded.

  We began to slowly draw the layout.

  Scouts were to go in front. Lightly armed, fast, good at observing. Their task was to detect threats before they reached the main group.

  They were to be followed by the first line of battle — heavier warriors, shieldmen, swordsmen.

  The center of the column is intended for mages, archers, and people responsible for supplies. There was also supposed to be a field kitchen.

  I automatically thought of an elf.

  If everything goes according to plan, she will be safer there than at the front.

  The rear guard was just as important as the front. In many expeditions, it was the rear of the column that was most often attacked.

  The talks lasted a long time.

  Everyone wanted to add something.

  Everyone had their own experiences.

  I listened, saying little. Most of the decisions were reasonable.

  In the end, the conversation turned to something more problematic.

  Command.

  "Who will lead the whole expedition?" Someone on the other side of the table asked.

  The room became a little quieter.

  It was an important decision.

  One person was supposed to make the final decisions in a crisis.

  One person was to be responsible for the whole.

  A few glances turned in different directions.

  Then someone in my group spoke first.

  "She.

  He pointed at me.

  A few heads turned towards me.

  "He's got a cool head," someone on my team added. "And he can make decisions.

  For a moment I looked at them without emotion.

  Knowing them... They probably wanted to get me into it on purpose.

  Commanding the entire expedition meant more responsibility than benefit.

  If something went wrong, I would be to blame.

  Several people began to whisper among themselves.

  "She's young," one of the veterans finally said.

  "Too young," added another.

  "This is no ordinary expedition.

  I listened to it in silence.

  I wasn't going to protest.

  Nor to apply.

  Finally, one of the leaders of another group shook his head.

  "No," he said firmly. "We need someone with more experience.

  A few people nodded.

  "Too young," someone repeated.

  My team tried to say something else, but the rest of the groups were already decided.

  The topic was quickly closed.

  The command was entrusted to one of the more experienced searchers—an elderly man who had made several long expeditions through dangerous terrain.

  I didn't protest.

  To be honest... even better.

  Less attention.

  Less responsibility.

  More freedom.

  I leaned back more comfortably in my chair and watched the people at the table for a while.

  They didn't know how much they helped me with their decision.

  And I wasn't going to prove them wrong.

  The meeting ended late in the evening.

  The map was rolled up, the chairs were moved away, and the conversations slowly turned into quiet preparations for the next day. The final decision was made — the leader of the entire expedition was the leader of a group of musclemen.

  It was not a particularly prudent choice.

  Their team was physically strong. They could fight, they could break through monsters and set up camp faster than most other groups.

  But intelligence has never been their strongest point.

  Nevertheless, others decided that his experience in combat and his loud voice would be enough to lead the expedition.

  I didn't protest.

  Sometimes it's better to let someone else stand at the front.

  The next day, the city was still in the morning chill when we gathered at the main gate.

  The sky was clear, but the sun was just beginning to rise above the walls of the capital. There were not many people on the streets. A few merchants, a few guards... and us.

  The whole expedition was lined up in a long line at the exit from the city.

  The wagons with supplies stood at the back. Chests, barrels of water, bags of food and travel equipment.

  Each group took its place.

  The leaders of each team stood at the front of the formation, separated from the rest by a few steps. I could see their silhouettes in the morning light—some calm, some tense, others visibly excited.

  I stood with my team.

  The elf was a few steps behind us, next to the supplies. She didn't speak, watching everything in silence.

  It must have looked different for her than it did for us.

  She was not used to such expeditions.

  I looked at it more coldly.

  That was just the beginning.

  At the very front stood our newly elected leader.

  Leader of the Muscles.

  Broad shoulders, heavy armor, a voice loud enough to shout half the square.

  He turned to the crowd and raised his hand.

  "We're leaving in a few minutes!" He shouted.

  His voice echoed off the city walls.

  A few people corrected their weapons, someone checked the belt with potions, others corrected their backpacks.

  "Line up in the starting formation!" He roared again.

  Slowly, the group began to move.

  The scouts moved to the front. The warriors occupied the front line. Mages and archers lined up in the middle of the column.

  I watched it for a while.

  The movement of people, the metal of weapons, the creaking of wagons.

  Many of them were calm.

  Some even smiling.

  As if they were going on an ordinary journey.

  I was looking towards the road leading outside the walls.

  Far on the horizon the forests began.

  Not this one yet.

  But we will get there eventually.

  I slightly adjusted the mask on my face and took a step forward together with my team.

  The expedition was just beginning.

  2000 views, which honestly means a lot to me. I didn’t expect the story to reach so many readers this quickly.

  velrik