Chapter 11. New King

It had been five days since I ventured into the forest of the damned. Sir Steven sat quietly in front of the forest’s wooden gates, waiting patiently for my return.

He had sent all the other guards back to the eastern city to rest, and only he remained, waiting, staring into the darkness of the forest, and hoping I would emerge from it, safe and unharmed. His food supplies had run out, and his body had become weak.

His eyes had dark sacs that made it look like he hadn’t slept for days—he probably hadn’t. Knowing Sir Steven, he was now more than ready to walk into the forest to look for me himself. He got up from the ground, and his brows furrowed. He reached for the handle of his sword by the side of his waist and slowly pulled it out of its sheath.

As he drew the sword out completely, it dropped to the ground, clashing against the rock with a loud metallic clink. His hand trembled at the weight of the weapon.

Normally, his sword was very easy to carry and sw