Chapter 493: Judgment in the Shadows

The hiss cut through the forest like a blade, low at first, then rising into a keening shriek that seemed to come from all directions at once. Holly’s cries—ragged, panicked, filled the cold night air—were barely distinguishable from the echoes of the Trihydra’s voices.

Orion moved with calm precision, his eyes sharp, scanning the shadows between the trees as Brynhild adjusted her grip on her sword. The carriage waited, its black wheels half-buried in the fresh snow, the harnessed wolves growling low in their throats. Their fur bristled, backs arched as if they could sense the impossibility of what lurked just beyond the treeline.

Orion reached out and rubbed their heads with quiet authority. His touch was steady, soothing, and despite their readiness to lunge at anything that moved, the wolves settled slightly under his hands.

Holly’s body was a trembling, broken thing on the forest floor. She tried to crawl, dragging herself along with one trembling arm, but pain radiated through every movement. Her legs refused to cooperate, throbbed with fire and cold, a rhythm of agony that made even breathing difficult. Her face was pale due to how much blood she had lost.

Her eyes were wide with panic too. The blood from her wrist had clotted slightly, dark and sticky, but still she bled. She was close to the edge, close to falling into a world she couldn’t return from.

Orion and Brynhild climbed into the carriage, this time Brynhild sat next to him at the driver’s seat. The reins were cold and stiff in Orion’s hands, but he took them without hesitation, guiding the wolves in a silent, precise motion. The carriage moved, wheels crunching over snow and frozen earth, taking them back in the direction from where they had come.

Holly’s cries filled the forest, mingling with the hiss of the Trihydra. Each time she screamed, her voice rose in pitch, a haunting chorus that seemed almost to encourage the monster ahead. But Orion didn’t flinch.

After some distance, the carriage slowed. The forest opened slightly, less dense, the snow falling in heavier, thick flakes that muffled sound. Holly’s screams were still audible, but they seemed distant here, like background music to a play that had already ended for her. Brynhild handed Orion a small bundle of dried fruit and nuts, remnants of a snack she had brought. They ate in silence for a moment, listening to Holly’s suffering, the Trihydra’s hiss threading through her cries.

"Lysander is vile for coming up with something that could attract the Trihydra," she said with a chuckle.

Orion nodded, crunching into a nut. "Lysander always does come up with the most unexpected things," he said quietly.

"At least now, Holly will face judgment... quite faster. The goddess will decide her fate for trying to kill the Luna she sent to save our kind," he said.

Brynhild laughed softly, a sound sharp in the stillness of the forest. She chewed on a nut. "As much as the news wasn’t shocking... honestly, I don’t even know what to say except the fact that Sophia really is special."

Orion tilted his head slightly, chewing slowly. "Yes," he said softly. "We’ll discuss it more soon. But I’ll admit the goddess did choose the right person. Sophia may be infuriating most times, but she cares about people to the point that she even neglects herself sometimes."

Brynhild nodded. "You are right about that."

She still remembered how Sophia had gone under the storm just to make sure she survived. If not for Sophia, Brynhild and her daughter wouldn’t be present anymore.

They fell into a quiet rhythm, eating in silence as the snow fell around them. After a pause, Brynhild glanced at Orion.

"Are you going to explain all of this to Ronan when he comes?" she asked, voice low.

Orion sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "I hope I don’t have to. I really hope Ronan and the others come tomorrow so Sophia and I can explain everything and preferably only once... or twice."

He paused, then added, "She’s recovering pieces of her memory."

Brynhild frowned slightly, throwing a nut in her mouth. "Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?"

Orion’s eyes darkened as he looked at her. "Every time she remembers something, it hurts her. Something—always something—leaves her in the medical facility." His voice was soft, but the weight of it hung over the snow-covered forest.

"It’s like her past is tied to her suffering," he told her.

"Maybe it is, Orion," Brynhild said. "Maybe Sophia did suffer a lot in the past before she came to know us. Lysander did tell me that Sophia’s condition is entirely and solely hers, that her brain made her forget things to protect herself and perhaps that’s why she’ll be in pain when she recovers most of those memories."

Orion sighed. "I’ll admit, I don’t like the sound of that."

"Me too," Brynhild said honestly.

They were quiet, just snacking on the nuts, when Brynhild noticed a subtle change. The screaming had stopped. The hiss of the Trihydra no longer threaded through the night. The forest fell quiet, almost unnaturally so.

"Orion," she called out.

"Time to clarify," he said as he turned the carriage back to where they had come from.

The carriage slowed further, stopping just at the spot where Holly had been left earlier. The snow around it was trampled and torn, evidence of her failed attempts to move.

The Trihydra was there. Its three heads swiveled independently, each one holding a part of Holly’s body in its jaws, a grotesque display of dominance. Its eyes burned like venom, spines on each head gleaming under the snow. Hissing and screeching, it flexed its massive body, tail thrashing in the snow.

Orion and Brynhild moved together. Bones shifted, muscles coiled, and claws extended.

The ground vibrated under the weight of Orion’s wolf form as he launched forward, Brynhild flanking, her movement a blur of black fur and calculated precision.

The Trihydra may have helped in killing Holly, but there was no way they were going to let it live.