The pounding footsteps echoed through the Scorched Barren, stirring up dust in chaotic spirals. Ethan ran, lungs burning, his heart slamming in his chest. Behind him, a guttural laugh echoed-sharp, twisted, and filled with menace. The scraping sound of metal against stone followed, growing closer.
He stumbled, crashing hard to the scorched earth, gasping for air. A shadow loomed over him, red, beady eyes glowing with malevolent joy. The goblin raised its jagged sword high, a cackle rising from its throat, sure of its victory.
Ethan raised his chipped blade- Dusk Sting-barely managing to catch the goblin's strike. Sparks flew as the metal screeched under the pressure, but Dusk Sting's edge cracked, shards of the blade scattering into the air.
The goblin sneered down at him, and the world seemed to slow. Ethan's wide, terrified eyes locked onto the creature's bloodthirsty grin as he strained against the weight of the blade. His arms trembled, his strength fading. It was only a matter of time before the goblin's sword cut through him.
Then, a sudden, sharp sound cut through the tension-a strange hum. The goblin's laugh stopped abruptly. Its eyes rolled back as a plasmic arrow pierced clean through its skull. Red and green gore splattered across Ethan's face. The creature crumpled to the side, dead before it hit the ground.
Ethan blinked in shock, wiping the sticky goblin blood from his cheek, eyes darting toward the source of the shot. Standing among the half-sunken ruins of a sand-covered building was a man, adjusting his glasses with a calm, measured air. A faint glow still clung to his hand, the last remnants of a magical energy bow disappearing into the air.
Benedict Cyrus," the man said, his tone cool, detached, as though assessing Ethan. "Don't wander too far into the Scorched Barren."
Ethan tried to rise, but pain shot through his leg. He winced, collapsing back to the ground. Glancing down, he saw his left leg twisted awkwardly, clearly broken. He bit his lip, forcing back a scream, refusing to show weakness.
"I've got you," came a soft, trembling voice.
A girl knelt beside him, her hands hovering over his broken limb. Her fingers quivered slightly, but as a soft glow radiated from her palms, warmth spread through Ethan's leg. His bones shifted painfully with a sharp snap, but the relief that followed was immediate.
Ethan sucked in a breath, blinking up at the girl. "Thanks..." he managed, his voice hoarse.
"Zephyrine," she whispered, her shy smile barely reaching her eyes as she finished healing him.
Before Ethan could gather his thoughts, the ground rumbled with a deafening boom. In the distance, a massive cloud of dust rose into the sky. Loud, booming laughter followed, reverberating through the barren wasteland.
A huge figure emerged from the cloud, wild and fearsome, dragging the lifeless body of a goblin by its neck. The goblin's arms dangled limply, like a ragdoll in the giant's grip. With a savage grin, the man hurled the goblin to the ground, slamming it into the dirt with a thunderous thud. The creature's bones cracked audibly under the impact.
Jaxon towered over the mangled goblin, his grin wide and bloodthirsty. He raised his massive mallet high, then brought it down with brutal force, pulverizing the goblin into dust.
"What a harvest!" Jaxon bellowed, his voice echoing across the wasteland, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Ethan, still reeling from the chaos around him, pushed himself to his feet, feeling the strength return to his leg. He wiped his hands on his pants, trying to steady himself, but his mind raced. These people... They moved like forces of nature- unshaken, unstoppable.
Above, perched on the remnants of a crumbled skyscraper, Reyna Steelwind watched from her high vantage point. Her silver hair shimmered under the harsh light, her sharp gaze sweeping over the battlefield. She sat poised, calm, overseeing the entire scene like a queen surveying her kingdom.
Ethan couldn't help but feel small in their presence. But as he stood there, surrounded by the Iron Fang, he knew this was the first real step into the life he was about to live.
And there was no turning back now.
Jaxon's voice thundered across the sandy expanse, cutting through the aftermath of the battle. "Ava! You done over there?"
Ava Morales barely acknowledged him, her expression as cold and detached as ever. Without a word, she knelt beside the goblin's lifeless body at her feet. With practiced ease, she plunged her hand into its chest. The goblin's body gave one final twitch before going still, and Ava withdrew a glowing crystal-a shard of Aether essence, its light pulsating faintly in her palm. She examined it briefly, her face unreadable, before slipping it into her pouch without a second thought.
"Yeah, it's done," she called back, her voice flat, emotionless.
Jaxon smirked, hefting his blood-smeared mallet over his shoulder. "Good. Let's hope the rest of the crew pulled their weight," he said, his eyes scanning the surrounding wasteland. The others were spread out, still mopping up the last few stragglers.
High above, Reyna Steelwind remained perched on the side of a half-buried skyscraper, her silver hair catching the light. From her elevated position, she observed the battlefield with a hawk-like precision, her eyes tracking any potential threats. The chaos below didn't seem to faze her; she was calm, vigilant, and in control.
Benedict Cyrus approached Ethan and Zephyrine, his bow dissolving into the air as the Aether dissipated from his hands. "We shouldn't stay here too long," he said in a low voice. "This place is crawling with worse than goblins."
Ethan, still recovering from the pain and the shock, managed a shaky nod. His eyes drifted back to the goblin's corpse beside him, the blood and brain matter still clinging to his clothes. The image stuck in his mind, a grim reminder of how real and dangerous this world was.
Zephyrine stood close, watching him carefully, her shy presence somehow comforting amid the chaos. Benedict's words lingered in the air-a warning of what might come next.
Zephyrine finished the healing, her hands glowing faintly as the last of the Aether sealed the wound in Ethan's leg. "That should do it," she whispered, her voice soft but reassuring. She offered her hand to help him up.
Ethan, still feeling the dull ache but grateful for her touch, took it and stood, wobbling slightly. He shot her a small, tired smile. "Thanks, Zephyrine."
She nodded shyly, her gaze barely meeting his before she turned away. "Let's catch up with the others," she murmured, already heading toward the rendezvous point.
Ethan limped after ner, the strain in his leg fading as he walked. The once chaotic battlefield had fallen into an eerie stillness, with only the soft crunch of their footsteps breaking the silence. Jaxon's earlier laughter and the clash of weapons had long since died down, replaced by the hollow wind sweeping through the Scorched Barren.
Up above, Reyna Steelwind moved with quiet grace, rising from her perch. She leapt effortlessly from her high vantage point, cutting through the air in a fluid descent. She landed with a soft thud, her boots barely disturbing the sand beneath her as she strode toward the crew.
Her sharp eyes swept the scene, taking in the scattered goblin corpses, the faint glow of harvested Aether crystals, and the crew, victorious yet worn from the battle.
Jaxon was already there, a broad grin on his blood-smeared face. His mallet hung over his shoulder like a casual accessory, the dried remains of goblin blood splattered across his forearm. "Well, ain't we something," he laughed, swiping the grime off his skin. "Good haul today, yeah?"
Ava Morales stood a few paces away, her expression as indifferent as ever. She flipped the Aether crystal she'd claimed between her fingers, as though unimpressed. "Could've been better," she muttered, though her tone held little frustration.
Benedict Cyrus approached, adjusting his glasses as his gaze flickered over the battlefield. "We've got more than enough," he said, his usual calm tone settling the group. "Let's tally up the spoils and head back. I've got dinner plans."
Reyna gave a curt nod, her eyes still scanning the horizon, ever vigilant. The crew began to gather, forming a loose circle as they prepared to assess their gains. Despite the exhaustion, there was a quiet satisfaction among them-a job well done in the Scorched Barren, but the day wasn't over yet.
The crew gathered around, counting the glowing Aether crystals harvested from the goblins. Jaxon's broad grin stretched wide as he casually tossed another crystal into the bag with a satisfying clink.
"These are gonna fetch us a nice sum on the market, especially with demand being what it is," he said, shaking the bag for emphasis. "Could go for around 50,000 Arcs per crystal, not even factoring in the Vigile Mortalis dividend ."
Benedict nodded thoughtfully, adjusting his glasses as he inspected a crystal in his hand. "Supply's low, but the demand for Aether-infused materials keeps rising. The military's been pushing out new weapon commissions like crazy."
Jaxon shot a smirk toward Ethan. "We could've grabbed more if Ethan here wasn't dead weight." He chuckled, clearly amused by his own remark. "Maybe next time, try swinging that sword like you mean it."
Ethan's face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes dropping to his chipped blade, Dusk Sting. The sharp reminder of his failure dug deep, making him feel every ounce of inadequacy that Jaxon's words implied.
"Leave him alone, Jaxon," Reyna interjected calmly, but with a firm edge in her voice.
Benedict's gaze was piercing. "Jaxon's got a point, though. We're a team, and every member's gotta pull their weight."
Reyna didn't let the conversation continue. "Enough. Focus on the haul. We'll have more chances when the next raid comes up."
Ethan could barely process their words, feeling their weight settle in his chest. His grip tightened around the hilt of Dusk Sting, frustration and self-doubt building with each second.
Ava, who had been silently counting the crystals, tossed another one into the bag, catching sight of Ethan's troubled expression. With a sigh, she spoke, her tone low but cutting through the tension.
"Don't sweat it. You'll get your cut—small one, though." Ethan glanced at her, caught off guard that she'd even bothered to acknowledge him, much less with something half-kind.
She continued, her voice softening slightly. "Where'd you say you were from again? Your accent's familiar."
Ethan hesitated before answering. "South Pointe."
Ava's lips twitched with recognition. "South Pointe? I grew up there before my awakening." She paused, as if lost in thought. "That crazy homeless guy still running around stealing laundry?"
Ethan blinked, the memory surfacing in his mind, and despite himself, he let out a small chuckle. "Yeah. Pretty sure he's still doing it."
Ava shook her head, a rare flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Figures. Some things never change."
As they continued talking, Reyna's brow furrowed as she pulled out her Aether-infused compass, her fingers gliding over the sigils as she tried to activate the portal. Nothing happened. She tried again, her eyes narrowing with frustration.
Benedict, noticing her struggle, stepped closer. "What's wrong?"
Reyna gave the compass a hard look, her jaw tightening. "Something's off… I can't open the portal."
The crew fell silent, the earlier banter instantly forgotten. The weight of her words hit hard—being stranded in the Scorched Barren wasn't part of the plan.