I ran as fast as I could.
It was supposed to be a quick look. Just a small peek into the Forbidden Woods. I thought I could handle it. I've always been a little too curious—and maybe a little too brave for my own good.
(Forbidden Woods — a cursed forest where twisted monsters roam, each one birthed by the dark magic of the Seven Deadly Demons of the Abyss. These abominations lurk within, hunting all who enter, born from sin itself and defying every law of nature.)
Now goblins were chasing me.
They screeched behind me, sharp claws swinging, their ugly green faces twisted in hunger. Their skin looked like rotting leaves, and their eyes were wild and glowing red. They weren't very tall—but they were fast. Too fast.
My heart pounded. I dodged trees and jumped over roots. The edge of the forest came into view.
Almost there.
As soon as I crossed into our safe area, everything stopped.
The goblins skidded to a halt. They stood at the tree line, growling and hissing—but they didn't dare move forward.
Because of him.
The giant statue of Archangel Michael stood tall between us, casting a long shadow across the field. His wings were spread wide, as if shielding the land itself. His sword pointed to the ground, glowing faintly with divine energy. His face was calm yet fierce—an eternal guardian—carved from white stone veined with threads of radiant gold. Even with the clouds overhead, a soft, unexplainable light seemed to shine from him.
They say his statue watches over the villages, towns, and even the farthest corners of our kingdom. An invisible veil of protection surrounds it, shielding all who live within its reach from the horrors of the Abyss. As long as the statue stands and the veil holds, no monster can cross its sacred boundary.
The goblins backed away.
"Not so brave now, huh?" I said, catching my breath and teasing them with a tired grin.
They snarled one last time, then turned and disappeared into the trees.
I let out a sigh and walked slowly toward the statue.
I stood before Archangel Michael, bowed my head, and placed my hand on the edge of his cloak. I closed my eyes.
"Thank you, Archangel Michael… for keeping us safe again. I know I shouldn't have gone out there, and I'm sorry. I promise I'll be more careful next time. Maybe."
I let out a small laugh under my breath, then continued.
"Please keep watching over this place. Keep the monsters away, and protect the people I care about. And thank you, Divine Creator, for giving us the Archangels. I know the world is dark and scary sometimes… but Your light still reaches us, even in the wilderness. Amen."
I opened my eyes and looked up at his stone face.
I reached up and brushed some dust off his armor. It felt cold and strong beneath my fingers. I smiled up at him.
He's not really my favorite Archangel—but I'm grateful he's here.
My favorites are Raphael and Raziel.
They say Raphael's statuecan heal the sick if you truly believe. His stands in a quiet garden, surrounded by flowers that never die. He holds a glowing scepter, and his gentle eyes are carved to look full of kindness. Some say when you pray near him, the wind carries warmth, like a soft blessing.
Raziel's statue is different and mysterious. His face is hidden by a deep hood, and in his hands, he holds a glowing amulet carved with sacred runes. People say if you sleep near his statue and your heart is true, he'll give you answers in your dreams—truths no one else can find.
There's also Uriel'sstatue, the guardian of energy. His statue holds a large tome that hums with light, and his presence gives strength to tired adventurers. Just like Michael's statue, Uriel's also protects. At night, his body glows faintly, like warm firelight in the dark.
And Gabriel'sstatue, the Herald. His trumpet is raised to the sky. They say his power can drive monsters away with sound alone. His eyes seem to watch the clouds, as if waiting for a message from above. Just like Michael's statue, Gabriel's also protects. Monsters can't come near it—the air around him hums, like it's always ready to sound a silent warning.
These holy statues are scattered across the Pallet Kingdom, standing like silent guardians over villages and roads. Each one blessed, each one protecting us from the creatures beyond the borders.
They say the Creator has turned His face from us—that He no longer watches, no longer speaks. That His silence is the price of our rebellion. And maybe... they're right. The skies no longer sing, the miracles have grown rare, and even the angels speak less than they once did.
But even in His silence, He never stopped giving. His grace still flows—through the statues, through the tomes, relics and weapons, through the hearts of those who still believe.
Some of us still kneel. Still pray. Still hope. We believe that He hasn't abandoned us—not completely. That one day, He'll return and save us.
But many no longer do. They've turned away, chasing power, fear, or nothing at all. Their hearts have grown cold. Their souls... lost to sin. The world is breaking, and faith is breaking with it.
I walked to the farm fields, where we grew our crops—the food that kept Raphen Village alive. We didn't have much, but we worked with what the land gave us.
Our village is called Raphen, named in honor of Archangel Raphael, the healer. They say his blessing keeps the soil soft, the waters clean, and the winds kind.
In the center of the village stands his statue—tall, gentle, and shining in the morning light. Flowers always bloom at his feet, even when nothing else does. People stop by to pray, to give thanks… or just to feel safe.
Our fields aren't too far from the Forbidden Woods. Just a short walk from the edge of the Forbidden Woods.
When I reached the field, I grabbed my tools from the small shed: a hoe, and my old basket, still patched from last season.
On the way, I passed some of the villagers already at work. I smiled and waved.
"Good morning!"
"Morning, Klera!"
Their voices were warm, even if their faces looked worn. Still, we smiled. It helped. We smiled like everything was okay, even if we knew it wasn't.
The sun was soft today, hidden behind pale clouds. The wind carried the scent of soil and new leaves. For a moment, it felt peaceful.
But that peace never lasts long. Not when the forest watches us.
"Where have you been again, Klera?"
A familiar voice surprised me from behind while I was working.
Before I could turn around, my sister spoke up.
"She went into the Forbidden Woods again, Mother."
I sighed.
"I only went to pray at Archangel Michael's statue, Mother. Nothing more."
Mother didn't look happy.
"Don't lie to me, young lady," she said firmly.
"That habit of yours will get you in trouble one day. How many times have I told you? The Woods are dangerous. Who knows what kind of monsters live in there."
Her voice wasn't angry—it was scared. She always sounded like that when she talked about the Woods.
"I'm sorry, Mother. It won't happen again," I said, looking down.
She gave a small nod and gently tapped my arm.
We said nothing else and went back to our work.
---
The afternoon had passed, and now the sun was slowly dipping below the horizon.
We were preparing to leave the farm and return to our village, which wasn't far from here.
"Hurry up, Klera! Don't be late—we still have a ritual to perform, and the Blood Moon is tonight."
We did this every month whenever the Blood Moon rose.
"Yes, Mother. I'll come after I finish here," I replied, picking up a few seeds to plant.
She nodded and waved, walking away with my sister.
When the Blood Moon rises, the world changes.
The moon turns crimson, and monsters become stronger, faster, and far more savage. Even the holy presence of the Archangels fades—their statues dim, and their blessings and protections weaken. On this cursed night, no village, town, or kingdom is safe.
The only protection lies in an ancient ritual:
A flawless, pure-white lamb is sacrificed before sunset. Its blood is spread over the doors of every home.
This blood forms a sacred barrier—monsters cannot enter, cannot kill those inside.
But if the ritual is broken...
If the lamb is stained or the blood forgotten...
Death comes.
They will search for homes without the mark, scratching at the doors, breaking through walls, and devouring anyone they find inside.
---
Other villagers were also returning their tools to the shed, ready to leave the fields.
"Done!" I exclaimed after planting the last seed.
While walking around the shed, I noticed a deer on the road. My tongue craved meat tonight. When I arrived at the shed, I took the bow and arrows used for hunting. Since it's rare to see a deer this close to our edge, I'll take this opportunity to have a nice meal tonight.
From afar, I placed my hand on the bow, ready to aim at the deer. My breath stilled, my fingers steady as I focused the arrow on its chest.
WHOOSH!
The arrow flew, piercing the deer's side—but it didn't fall.
Instead, it was wounded, blood trailing behind it as it limped toward the edge of the farm field.
I narrowed my eyes. A clean shot... and it still escaped?
No matter. I wasn't letting it go.
The deer crossed into the Forbidden Woods, slipping past the tall grass and vanishing behind the trees.
It would be a waste not to finish the job.
I took a deep breath and turned toward the silent statue of Archangel Michael standing at the edge of the fields.
"I promise to be quick," I whispered to the stone figure.
The air shifted as I stepped through the invisible protection veil—a soft, warm hum that faded behind me like a final warning.
But I wasn't afraid. I had my bow, my arrows, and my will.
No monster would dare come near... or so I believed.
I wandered through the Woods, eyes sharp, senses on edge. The trees here were thicker, the wind colder. Shadows moved where light didn't reach.
Then I found it—the deer. It stood shakily beneath a crooked tree, its white fur stained crimson.
I pulled another arrow.
This one would end it.
With a deep inhale, I put the arrow in and loosed it.
WHOOSH!
The deer collapsed instantly.
But just as I stepped forward—snap!
Agonizing pain shot up my leg.
A hidden trap clamped around my foot, sharp metal spikes biting into my flesh.
"Stupid goblins!" I shouted, falling to my knees.
It was one of their traps—brutal, rusted, meant for humans in order for them to trap and eat. Panic took over. I clawed at the trap, trying to pry it open, but it wouldn't budge. Blood soaked into the ground.
Then—I slipped.
My head struck a rock.
My vision blurred. Darkness swallowed me whole.
---
When I woke, the sky was no longer orange.
Night had arrived.
And above the trees...
The Blood Moon hung high, bleeding across the heavens.
I gasped.
The trap was still on my foot, but I had no time to waste. Gritting my teeth, I rose—limping, bleeding, desperate to escape.
"Damn..." I muttered.
The woods around me shifted. Twigs snapped. Unnatural howls echoed from every direction.
They were awake.
The monsters had come.
I forced myself to move, each step burning. Branches tore at my clothes as I fought my way back to the edge of the forest.
Then—I saw it.
The statue of Archangel Michael.
But the divine glow it once held...
was gone.
The protection viel was broken.
A chill ran through my spine as the forest erupted with inhuman noises—growls, shrieks, guttural chants.
It was a celebration.
The monsters were rejoicing under the Blood Moon. I ran as fast as I could, the trap still biting into my foot.
I reached the road by the farm field—only to freeze in horror.
From the edge of the woods, they emerged.
Goblins, skeletons, undead, werewolves, ogres, giants, soul-snatchers, skinwalkers... and more.
They surged forward like a water wave tide, heading straight for the village.
Some of them saw me.
They turned.
I stumbled, falling to the ground again.
I raised my bow and shot a few arrows—each one shaking but true.
"Almighty Creator, protect me!" I cried, heart pounding.
A goblin snarled and lunged toward me.
But then—
"Holy Light Arrows! " a voice echoed through the darkness.
FWOOSH!
Blinding light shot past me, piercing the charging goblin in the chest. It burst into white flames and fell.
A man stepped forward, flanked by three companions. Clad in glowing leather armor, their eyes sharp and unwavering. The Adventurers.
I gasped.
I was saved.