The midday sun was merciless, beating down on the Wildlands with an oppressive heat. Ryn wiped the sweat from his brow as he trudged through the uneven terrain, his legs heavy and aching. The Spirit Fox padded alongside him, its glowing tail swaying faintly in the sunlight.
It had been hours since they'd left the clearing where the Corrupted Stalker had fallen, and Ryn was quickly realizing just how unprepared he was for this journey. His pack was nearly empty, with only a small waterskin and a handful of dried scraps left from the supplies he'd brought out of Velira.
His stomach growled loudly, and he grimaced. "We need to find something soon," he muttered, glancing at the fox. "Food, water—anything."
The Spirit Fox chirped softly, its head low as it sniffed at the ground.
The Wildlands stretched endlessly around them, a patchwork of rocky outcrops, sparse forests, and open plains. It was beautiful in its own way, but Ryn couldn't appreciate the view with his hunger gnawing at him and his throat dry as sandpaper.
He stopped at the edge of a shallow ravine, crouching to peer over the side. A thin trickle of water ran along the bottom, barely more than a stream, but it was something.
"Finally," Ryn breathed, his voice tinged with relief. He scrambled down the rocky slope, careful not to lose his footing. The Spirit Fox followed easily, its agile movements making the descent look effortless.
At the bottom, Ryn knelt by the water's edge and splashed some onto his face before taking a cautious sip. It was warm and tasted faintly of minerals, but it was better than nothing.
"Drink up," he said, gesturing to the fox.
The Spirit Fox stepped forward, lowering its glowing nose to the water. It hesitated for a moment, then lapped at the stream.
Ryn watched it for a moment, his thoughts wandering back to the journal tucked in his pack. The mention of the Codex being "untrustworthy" had left a sour knot in his stomach. Everything he had been taught as an aspiring tamer revolved around the system. The Codex was supposed to be a constant, a guide.
And yet…
He glanced at the Spirit Fox. Its evolution path was marked as an error, its growth seemed tied directly to their bond, and now it could level up—a concept that shouldn't have existed.
What if the journal was right? What if the Codex wasn't what they thought it was?
The faint snap of a branch jolted Ryn from his thoughts. He froze, his hand instinctively going to the knife at his belt. The Spirit Fox stiffened beside him, its glowing fur dimming slightly as it crouched low.
Ryn scanned the ravine, his eyes darting to every shadow and patch of movement. The air felt heavier now, thick with the tension of being watched.
"Stay close," he whispered to the fox.
A low, guttural growl echoed from somewhere above them. Ryn's blood ran cold as he turned his gaze upward. At the top of the ravine, a massive, feline-shaped beast crouched on a rocky outcrop. Its dark fur blended almost seamlessly with the shadows, but its amber eyes glowed like embers in the midday light.
A Shadowfang Panther.
Ryn swore under his breath. Panthers were apex predators, known for their speed and stealth. They were solitary hunters, and this one had clearly been watching them for some time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The panther growled again, its muscles tensing as it prepared to leap.
Ryn's mind raced. They were trapped in the ravine, with no way to climb out quickly enough. Fighting wasn't an option either; the Spirit Fox had proven itself against smaller predators, but this was a whole different level.
The bond between them pulsed faintly, and Ryn felt the fox's determination surging through him. It wasn't afraid.
"Radiant Step," Ryn whispered, the words coming unbidden to his lips. He didn't fully understand the skill yet, but he knew it was their only chance.
The Spirit Fox chirped softly in response, its glowing fur brightening slightly.
The panther leapt.
Time seemed to slow as the massive beast soared through the air, its claws extended and its jaws wide. Ryn felt the bond pulse again, and the Spirit Fox moved.
It vanished in a blur of light, reappearing a split second later behind the panther. The air shimmered faintly where it had been, and the panther twisted mid-air, disoriented by the sudden shift.
Ryn didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his knife flashing as he struck at the panther's exposed flank. The blade bit deep, and the beast let out a furious roar, spinning to face him.
"Move!" Ryn shouted, already diving to the side.
The Spirit Fox responded instantly, darting away as the panther swiped at the air where it had been. Its glowing tail flicked once, the light flaring brightly enough to momentarily blind the panther.
Ryn scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving as he gripped his knife tightly. "Alright," he muttered. "You distract it, I'll—"
The Spirit Fox moved before he could finish, darting under the panther's legs with blinding speed. It leapt onto the beast's back, its teeth sinking into the thick fur at the base of its neck.
The panther thrashed wildly, trying to shake the smaller beast off, but the fox held on, its glowing fur brightening with every passing second.
Ryn saw his opening. He lunged forward again, his knife aimed for the panther's throat.
The beast reared back, its claws raking the air, but Ryn was faster. The blade found its mark, and the panther let out one final, gurgling growl before collapsing to the ground.
Ryn staggered backward, his legs shaking as the adrenaline began to fade. The Spirit Fox leapt gracefully from the panther's back, landing beside him with a soft chirp.
"That," Ryn said between gasps, "was way too close."
The fox nuzzled his leg, its glowing eyes bright with pride.
Ryn let out a shaky laugh, sinking to his knees beside the fallen beast. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said, ruffling the fox's fur.
The bond pulsed faintly, and Ryn felt a warmth spreading through his chest again. This time, it wasn't just resolve—it was trust.
They had survived.
For now.