"Alright, Grey, let's head out. Which way is your ability pointing us?" Brawl asked, his tone steady as he prepared to take the lead.
Grey raised a hand and pointed toward the direction marked by the golden thread only he could see. "That way. But I don't know how far it is."
"That's fine," Keen said, adjusting the straps on his pack. "I brought food and camping supplies in case this takes more than a day. If it's farther out than last time, we'll be ready."
Grey nodded, and the three of them set off, jogging toward the village's barrier. Every so often, Grey would motion to adjust their path, following the subtle twists of the glowing thread. Despite their swift pace, the group moved fluidly, each of them transformed by their unique abilities. The air itself seemed to vibrate around them, charged with the energy of their enhanced forms.
As they ran, Grey noticed something peculiar. Brawl's aura—it seemed to shimmer faintly, a subtle but undeniable increase in its intensity. If Grey hadn't already suspected that Brawl could generate some of his own energy, he might have overlooked it entirely. He had gotten stronger.
Maybe that's why Keen sent him to lead, Grey thought. Did Keen notice too? Or did Brawl tell him something?
They continued in silence, their swift movements blending into the natural rhythm of the forest. The barrier came into view with the sun still high in the sky, just past morning. Their speed was remarkable compared to the squads during the Grand Hunt.
"Anyone need a rest?" Keen asked as they approached the edge of the barrier. His tone was firm, but there was a slight edge of concern.
Both Grey and Brawl shook their heads.
Keen gave a satisfied nod and turned to Grey. "Alright, we're counting on you. Keep your focus sharp—we won't move as fast now. You'll need to watch for any other dangers that might approach." He gestured between himself and Brawl. "We'll keep an eye out for the more obvious signs too."
Grey took a steadying breath, adjusting his grip on his weapon. The air beyond the barrier felt different—colder, heavier, as though it carried the weight of something unknown. Nodding back at Keen, he pushed his doubts aside and focused on the thread pulling them forward.
The group moved swiftly, the forest blurring past as they followed Grey's guidance. The golden thread remained steady, its soft glow a reassuring beacon against the shifting greens and whites of the landscape. Keen and Brawl kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, their footsteps light despite their speed.
After some time, Grey raised a hand to signal them to slow. "There," he said quietly, pointing to a clearing up ahead.
Through the trees, they saw a small herd of Hooded Horns grazing on patches of snow-covered shrubs. Their massive, antlered forms moved with deliberate care, their sharp horns glinting faintly in the filtered sunlight. Despite their imposing size, the creatures paid little attention to the world around them, focused solely on their grazing.
Keen motioned for them to stop, his voice low. "We'll circle around. No need to stir them up."
Grey nodded, leading the way as they carefully adjusted their path to skirt the herd. The Hooded Horns didn't notice their presence, but Grey kept a close eye on their massive frames as the group slipped through the undergrowth.
Once they were clear, they picked up their pace again, the golden thread guiding them farther from the barrier. The forest grew quieter, the air heavier. The usual sounds of birds and scurrying creatures faded until only the faint rustle of wind through the trees remained.
That's when Grey saw it.
A new light appeared in his vision—a deep orange glow, darker and more intense than anything he had seen before. The fiery tendrils pulsed faintly, twisting and intertwining with the golden thread he had been following. The sight sent a chill through him, his steps faltering for a brief moment.
"What is it?" Keen asked, his sharp gaze immediately catching Grey's hesitation.
Grey pointed ahead, his voice low but steady. "There's another path—an orange one. It's weaving into the thread I've been following. This… this is it. The thread is leading us to a beast."
Keen and Brawl exchanged a glance. Brawl's expression darkened, and he adjusted his grip on his weapon. "What's the plan?"
Grey took a slow breath, focusing on the swirling paths of light. The orange trails moved unnaturally, as if alive—fluid and deliberate, almost serpentine in their motion. It reminded him of the mantis-like beasts they had fought before. These trails weren't just random—they were being manipulated, laid out intentionally.
"We slow down," Grey said, his voice firm. "We need to surprise it. If it's anything like the mantis beasts, it can manipulate these paths. It might even know we're coming. But if we're careful, we might catch it off guard."
Keen nodded, his tone serious. "Alright. Grey, keep guiding us. Brawl and I will stay ready. Move carefully, and don't break formation."
They fell into a slower, more deliberate pace. Grey's senses were on high alert, his sight locked onto the shifting trails of light ahead. The deeper orange glow grew more pronounced, each tendril coiling tighter around the golden thread as they approached.
The forest seemed to close in around them, the air thick with an unfamiliar energy. Every sound—every crunch of snow, every snap of a branch—felt magnified, the weight of the moment pressing down on them.
As they crept forward, the orange trails twisted into complex patterns, like a web stretching across the forest floor and into the trees. Grey's breath caught. It wasn't just leading them forward—it was surrounding them.
He stopped abruptly, holding up a hand. "Wait."
Keen and Brawl froze, their gazes snapping to him.
Grey pointed to the tangled web of orange light stretching in every direction. "It's not just ahead. It's all around us. Be ready."
The three of them crouched low, their movements slow and measured as they pressed on. The air around them felt stifling, the forest itself seeming to hold its breath. Every step felt like walking into a trap, and the silence grew heavier with each passing moment.
Before they could prepare for what was coming, vines shot out from the trees with shocking speed. They reacted instinctively, diving away as the thick, bark-covered tendrils pierced the ground where they had just been standing. The impact sent shards of dirt and snow scattering into the air.
"Get together!" Keen shouted, his sharp voice cutting through the rising tension. "Watch the trees—it might come from any direction!"
As if responding to his warning, more vines lashed out from behind, slamming into the forest floor with brutal force. The group barely had time to move, their breath visible in the air as they scrambled to avoid the attacks.
"Quickly!" Brawl barked, his voice commanding.
In a matter of moments, they managed to regroup, forming a tight triangle with their backs to one another, each taking a section of their surroundings. Keen's sharp eyes darted across the treetops, while Brawl gripped his weapon tightly, scanning the undergrowth. Grey, his silver eyes glowing faintly, focused on the chaotic tangle of threads around them.
"Grey, can you see anything?" Keen demanded, his tone urgent but controlled.
"It's everywhere," Grey muttered, frustration lacing his voice. "The paths—there's too much. They're all over the place." He narrowed his gaze, trying to focus, but even the golden thread, which had led them faithfully thus far, seemed to dissolve into the chaotic tangle of light. It wasn't leading directly to the beast; instead, it splintered, merging with the creature's manipulated aura. To make matters worse, the vines themselves radiated with Will, their glow burning brightly in Grey's vision, further obscuring his sight.
"There!" Brawl shouted suddenly, pointing ahead. The group dove as one, narrowly avoiding another barrage of vines that slammed into the ground where they had just stood.
But the danger wasn't only above.
Without warning, something stirred beneath the forest floor. They heard the faint rustling too late—more vines erupted upward from the earth, too large and fast to avoid completely. Grey tried to dodge, but a thorn-laden tendril grazed his arm. Keen and Brawl were struck as well, their movements just a hair too slow to escape.
Grey stumbled back, clutching his arm. A faint burning sensation spread from the wound.
"Keen…" he started, his voice faltering. "I feel—off. Nauseous."
"Toxin!" Brawl shouted grimly. His steps faltered, his movements already slower.
The three of them regrouped again, but their pace had changed. Where once they had been swift and fluid, now every movement felt sluggish, deliberate.
"We need to act now!" Keen said, his tone sharp but strained. "Grey!"
Grey's silver eyes darted to the vines still embedded in the ground around them. None of them had retracted; they remained stuck, like roots feeding into the earth. Then he noticed it—pulses of faint energy coursing through the vines, flowing downward as if fueling something beneath them.
"Cut the vines!" Grey shouted, the realization striking like a lightning bolt. He didn't know if it would stop the attacks, but they had no time to hesitate. Each of them drew their weapons, ready to strike.
Brawl exchanged his massive club for a bone axe he had strapped to his pack, its edge jagged but sharp. Keen and Grey pulled knives recovered from the strangers, their blades gleaming in the dim forest light. Without wasting another moment, they hacked at the thick vines, the sharp edges biting into the bark-like tendrils.
As the first vine was severed, a sharp vibration rippled through the air, like the forest itself had flinched in pain. The energy pulses slowed for a brief moment before resuming, weaker now but still present.
"Keep going!" Keen shouted, his voice hoarse but determined.
The group continued slashing at the vines, each cut sending faint vibrations through the ground. They couldn't tell if it would stop the beast, but it was their only chance.
At first, their efforts seemed to work—more vines shot toward them, but this time the tendrils retracted the moment the group dodged, no longer embedding themselves in the ground.
"It's trying to stop us from cutting them!" Brawl shouted, gripping his axe tightly.
Keen's sharp eyes followed the retreating vines, slashing at one but missing as it whipped away just in time. "It's not stupid," he muttered, his tone low and wary. "It knows we've found a weakness, but… why isn't it retreating if it knows it's vulnerable?"
Grey's mind raced as he dodged another tendril, his silver eyes darting between the glowing vines. A memory surfaced—of beasts nearing evolution, the manic hunger in their eyes when they saw him. That desperation, that fixation…
"It's like before," Grey muttered under his breath.
"What?" Brawl asked, narrowly dodging another vine as it struck the air where he had stood moments before. He swung back instinctively but couldn't land a hit.
Grey dodged again, his breathing heavy as realization struck. "It's moving like those beasts I've seen before—ones close to evolving. They're desperate, almost frenzied. Whatever this is, it wants something from me. That's why it won't leave."
The words hung in the air for a split second before Grey made his decision.
"Keen! Brawl! Go!" he shouted. "You need to find the beast—it's got to be close, somewhere in the trees around us."
Keen hesitated, his eyes narrowing. "We're not leaving you!"
Grey shook his head sharply, his voice firm. "We'll die like this! I can already feel myself slowing down. The toxin doesn't seem deadly at first, but once we're too slow to dodge, we'll be overwhelmed. If we keep getting grazed, it'll pile up inside us. You have to go!"
He pointed around the clearing, his voice rising in urgency. "It shouldn't be far—no farther than the trees surrounding us. It's hiding, probably controlling the vines from somewhere nearby. Go now!"
For a moment, Keen looked as though he might argue, his jaw tight with hesitation. But then Brawl gave a sharp nod and took off, his heavy frame moving surprisingly fast as he darted toward the treeline. Keen hesitated only a second longer before circling the opposite way, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow and branch for any sign of the beast.
Grey stood his ground, his heart pounding as the vines seemed to shift focus entirely onto him. The tendrils lashed out with renewed speed, forcing him to duck, weave, and slash with his blade. He could feel his limbs growing heavier, his breaths shorter, but he gritted his teeth and pressed on.
The beast had chosen him as its target. And now, he had to give Keen and Brawl the chance to find it before it was too late.
The shift in focus was immediate. Vines lashed toward Grey in relentless waves, faster and more coordinated than before. He dodged one strike, rolling to the side as another tendril slammed into the ground, narrowly avoiding being impaled. His blade flashed, but there was no time to cut—the attacks came too fast, leaving him with only enough space to evade.
The vines changed tactics again, embedding themselves into the ground instead of retracting. Grey's silver eyes darted downward, dread gripping his chest. A loud crack split the air, and the forest floor erupted beneath him.
Tendrils burst upward, slicing through the air. One grazed his arm, tearing through fabric and skin, leaving a searing pain in its wake. Another slashed across his side as he twisted away, and a third caught his shoulder, dragging him backward before he managed to cut it free. Blood streaked his cloak, each wound slowing him further.
His breaths came in short gasps, his limbs growing heavier with every moment. The toxin coursing through his veins dulled his reflexes, and every step felt like wading through thick mud.
A vine shot up from beneath, wrapping around his ankle. He stumbled, slashing at it with his blade, severing it in one desperate motion. But more tendrils followed, forcing him to stumble back—his footing unsteady, his vision blurring. Another tendril lashed out, striking his thigh, and pain exploded in his leg as his muscles screamed in protest.
Then it happened.
A vine pierced straight through his calf, driving him to the ground. Grey cried out, collapsing onto one knee as agony radiated through his body. His hands trembled as he gripped the tendril embedded in his leg, but his strength was fading.
The air around him vibrated with energy, the hum of the vines growing louder. He could hear the beast's presence now, its aura suffocating, pressing against his mind like a physical weight. Another tendril lashed out, cutting his side, and blood spilled onto the forest floor.
Grey's body faltered, his vision darkening as he fell forward, his palms pressing weakly against the ground. Just as he was about to give in entirely, a sound shattered the chaos.
A piercing shriek tore through the air, sharp and echoing, reverberating through the forest. It wasn't a sound of triumph—it was a sound of death. The vibrations in the ground ceased abruptly, and the vines, once so full of life and ferocity, went slack.
Grey blinked weakly, his head heavy as the limp tendrils fell away from him, collapsing like lifeless threads around his feet. The oppressive aura vanished, replaced by a hollow stillness. The beast was dead.
Relief washed over him, but his body couldn't take any more. His vision blurred completely, and as the last remnants of the beast's presence faded into the silence, Grey collapsed onto the cold earth, unconscious.