Kael's sleep was light, and it ended before dawn. The wilds always seemed to shift at night, their unseen energies restless beneath the surface. It wasn't just the pulsing fragment at his side—it was the ominous sense of being watched. The rebellion's camp might have been hidden, but he knew better than to trust in complete safety.
As he stepped out of his tent, the camp was already stirring. Fires were being stoked, sentries rotated out, and quiet conversations filled the air. He caught sight of Rhea huddled with Darik near the central tent. Their expressions were grave, and Kael's instincts told him trouble was coming.
He approached quickly, his presence cutting through their tense discussion.
"What's wrong?" Kael asked.
Darik scowled, throwing a piece of parchment onto the table. "This."
Kael leaned in to study the map. Several markings indicated elite outposts, but one section had been circled in red. A symbol of interlocking rings sat in the middle—a mark he had come to associate with the elite's secretive councils.
"They've sent hunters," Rhea explained, her voice low. "Not just mercenaries or soldiers. Specialists trained to track and eliminate people like us."
Kael's jaw tightened. He had faced elite forces before, but this was different. Hunters were whispered about in rebel circles—killers enhanced through both technology and biology, their skills honed for one purpose.
"How far?" he asked.
"Two days out," Darik said. "Maybe less if they've caught wind of us."
Kael's mind raced. The camp wasn't equipped to face a force like that, not without significant losses. And moving a group this large through the wilds would slow them down, exposing them to even greater risk.
"We don't run," Kael said, his voice firm.
Darik raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you propose? Fighting head-on would be suicide."
Kael tapped the map, his finger landing on a narrow gorge near the camp. "We draw them in here. Limit their mobility, force them into close quarters. The wilds are on our side, and I know how to use them."
Rhea tilted her head, studying him. "You're suggesting an ambush."
"It's our best shot," Kael replied. "We make it look like we're retreating, lead them to the gorge, and trap them."
Darik hesitated but finally nodded. "Fine. But if this goes south, it's on you."
Kael didn't flinch. He had long grown used to bearing the weight of impossible choices.
The next day passed in a blur of preparations. Kael worked tirelessly with the rebels, setting traps and positioning fighters along the cliffs. The wilds themselves seemed to respond to his touch, their natural elements bending subtly to his will. Vines twisted into snares, rocks positioned to roll, and the air carried a faint hum of energy.
As night fell, Kael stood at the gorge's entrance, spear in hand. The rebels waited silently in the shadows, their breaths barely audible. The fragment at his side pulsed steadily, its energy resonating with the wilds around him.
The hunters arrived just before dawn.
There were six of them, their forms shrouded in cloaks that seemed to shimmer in the low light. Kael's eyes narrowed as he noted their movements—fluid, almost inhuman. They carried advanced weapons, and their eyes glowed faintly, a sign of their enhancements.
The lead hunter stepped forward, scanning the gorge with a calculating gaze.
"Come out," he called, his voice amplified by a device on his collar. "We know you're here. Surrender, and we might let some of you live."
Kael didn't respond. He waited, his heart steady, as the hunters moved deeper into the gorge. When they reached the center, he raised his hand—a silent signal.
The wilds roared to life.
Boulders tumbled from the cliffs, crashing down and scattering the hunters. Vines shot out from the ground, wrapping around limbs and weapons. Rebels emerged from their hiding spots, launching a barrage of arrows and spears.
Kael leapt into the fray, his spear a blur as he engaged the nearest hunter. Their weapons clashed, sparks flying as steel met advanced alloy. The hunter was fast, but Kael's connection to the wilds gave him the edge. He moved with the land itself, anticipating the hunter's attacks and countering with lethal precision.
The battle was brutal and chaotic, but the rebels held their ground. The wilds fought alongside them, their traps and terrain proving deadly to the hunters. One by one, the elite killers fell, their enhancements no match for the raw power of nature.
As the dust settled, Kael stood in the center of the gorge, his spear dripping with blood. Around him, the rebels cheered, their voices echoing through the wilds.
But Kael couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The elites wouldn't stop, not after this. They would send more hunters, more forces, and eventually, they would come for the fragments.
Kael tightened his grip on the spear.
The rebellion had won a battle, but the war was far from over. And Kael would be ready.