Iska watched it all unfold, overwhelmed by emotions he couldn’t name. It was liberation, yet simultaneously a profound loss.

Even after the forest burned away, Grimnoir remained like a shadow in his heart. Every rainfall triggered memories of the forest’s dampness and the scent of blood. Despite the endless pain and hatred, the forest defined part of who he was. Its darkness had become part of him, something he could never shake off.

To Iska, Grimnoir wasn’t merely a forest—it was everything. The place of his birth and upbringing, the darkness that ruled his life. There he had survived while simultaneously losing himself. The forest, filled with both hatred and longing, served as both his prison and comforting cradle.

Iska was left alone. Though the world was vast, he belonged nowhere. Humans viewed him as a monster, while other beings feared his darkness. Even after leaving the forest, he remained trapped.

He leaned against the wall of a deep cave, unable to endure anymore. Living in this solitude and pain felt like another punishment. At least in Grimnoir’s forest, he had family. Even though they tried to kill each other, there were beings who breathed alongside him. Now there was no one.

Iska closed his eyes and contemplated death. It seemed all his suffering would end if he died here. Neither loneliness nor memories of Grimnoir would torment him anymore.

The cold, dark cave resembled Grimnoir. Darkness and cold gradually pressed down on him with increasing weight. It was a familiar, almost nostalgic pain.

He lay down quietly. The cold stone floor froze his back, and with each breath, frigid air penetrated deep into his lungs. He wished for everything to end here. Even death felt like sweet liberation if it meant truly escaping the darkness that had held him for so long.

At that moment, a voice whispered in his ear: ‘Last of the Tarkar. What you desire will be granted in 200 years.’

Iska was confused. It was the very voice Ragna had once claimed to hear—the cruel voice of Pathos that could neither be denied nor refused.

He emerged from the cave. Rain still fell. Nothing was visible in the sky. The raindrops were cold, seeming to burn his skin. Yet he had no choice but to walk on.

Iska endured a long period of pain and loneliness. Through falling rain and setting suns, he wandered the world, hiding himself. Solitude followed wherever his footsteps led. Cold rainwater constantly soaked his body, while the pain in his heart blazed like an unquenchable flame.

What I desire…

Iska understood. In 200 years, what he wanted wasn’t merely salvation. It was the end of loneliness—a day when he would no longer be alone in a world where light shone. He hoped that on that day, the pain and emptiness in his heart would disappear. Until then, he had to live through endless suffering and solitude.

After enduring all that time, he finally encountered a small girl—Rudis.

Rudis was an ordinary human. But the moment Iska saw her, he realized she was what the voice had spoken of.

Iska began hovering around Rudis. The way she tilled fields and lay in bed, too exhausted to fall asleep easily—Rudis’s solitude closely resembled his own loneliness.

Yet Iska couldn’t approach her. Whenever he stood before her, a strange force seemed to choke him. When he tried to speak, a sharp pain like thorns piercing his chest stopped him. He could only circle nearby, waiting for her to notice him.

Then one day, that suppression vanished—suddenly, without reason or warning.

Rudis didn’t guard against Iska. She accepted his existence without judgment. Iska felt an unfamiliar, inexplicable joy spreading deep in his chest. It was like a corner of his long-frozen heart beginning to thaw. This warmth was something he had never received from anyone before. In that moment, he began to realize how special Rudis was to him.

Looking at Rudis, Iska became convinced once more. She was the one he needed to find. She was whom Pathos’s voice had indicated—the person who could give Iska what he so desperately wanted.

My companion. My family.

And surely Rudis wanted what Iska had been desperately yearning for.

Or so he believed…

On a night of the full moon, Iska froze as he set down a basket filled with mushrooms. His heart began to race, and he forgot even to breathe the cold air deep into his lungs.

The house was quiet. Empty. With trembling eyes, Iska checked the bedroom.

Rudis was gone.

Countless thoughts tangled in his mind.

“Lady Rudis?”

Iska called out with a shaking voice. But only a hollow echo returned.

Rudis had disappeared.

His heart constricted painfully. Iska frantically searched every corner of the house—from the basement cellar Rudis loved to the dusty third floor. With each step as he scoured every inch of the vast farm, his hope that Rudis might be somewhere shattered and crumbled beneath his feet.

Why?

Iska recalled everything he had prepared for Rudis. The future they would build together, the joys they would share. The belief that they could fill each other’s loneliness. All of it shattered in an instant.

Why?

He remembered how Rudis had looked before he left to gather mushrooms. She had been anxious. Iska had thought it was temporary—because she hadn’t eaten shadow mushrooms for several days, because she wasn’t yet perfect.

Leaving Rudis while she was confused hadn’t been easy. But tonight was the last night of the full moon. If he missed tonight, Rudis would have to spend a month in an incomplete state. Iska felt he had no choice.

Beast-person traits became more pronounced at night. Rudis experiencing heat every night was proof of that. So he believed she would be waiting for him to fill her emptiness.

But why?

Iska gradually collapsed. With each exhale, his fear became more vivid. Losing Rudis meant losing his reason to live. Everything he had endured until now was crumbling. His fingertips turned ice cold. He could barely breathe.

Just like that day when his sun left Grimnoir.

No. Lady Rudis will return soon. Surely.

Iska murmured softly, bracing himself against the wall with trembling hands. Like he was reassuring himself, or perhaps denying reality. The cold sensation against his fingertips seemed to ground him.

Various scenes flashed through his mind: Rudis leaving for the village, departing to find something in the forest, and always returning. Iska whispered to himself that this time would be the same, that she would definitely come back.

But deep inside, a persistent anxiety mocked his reassurances. The terrible thought that this time might be different—that she might never return—circled in his mind.

That can’t be.

Iska firmly denied it. But the fear washing over him like waves couldn’t be resisted.

He approached the bedroom window and looked outside. The forest was quiet under the full moon’s light. Gazing beyond the window, Iska quietly murmured that Rudis would definitely return.

He stepped back and steadied himself by gripping a chair beside a small table. His fingertips clutching the edge of the chair trembled slightly.

She’ll come back. She promised. She said she wouldn’t hate me.

Once more, Iska recalled Rudis’s gentle smile. She had been approaching him, calling his name in a bright voice. The image was so vivid he felt he could embrace her right then. But Rudis’s figure gradually faded, like darkness disappearing before the rising sun.

Iska bowed his head in that darkness. The cold floor where he sat now felt like the damp mud of Grimnoir. It was as though he had returned to the middle of that dark forest. He tried to steady his breathing against the wall, but the air filling his lungs was too heavy and cold.

That’s when it happened. Something pierced Iska’s senses as it brushed his nostrils. Though very faint, it was a trace he couldn’t possibly miss. Iska momentarily stopped breathing. A strange and ominous scent that shouldn’t be here.

The scent of another male.