The circle of elders shifted, their faces carved with old worry and deeper thought. Trollen's eyes veined with luminous green, turned to Elyrra, voice low but pressing.

"Elyrra, you cannot possibly be considering his request to defeat the wyvern? He is a measly E-rank that has eyes for a C+ rank beast. This is beyond insanity…"

Ghranak stirred from his silence, "The Nest does not forgive hubris, Slitmother. Nor does it forgive ignorance of the tides around us."

Elyrra's gaze did not waver, "Yet when he was found, do you remember the report of the scene at the arena? Three corpses surrounded him — D-rank beasts, all slain. He bore wounds, yes, but he stood."

She took a breath, the memory vivid behind her mask, "He said he is E-rank, but I believe his true strength lies deeper. Something in him pushes past the bindings of our ranks and measures. Whether it's instinct, fate, or madness — we must acknowledge that what he did should have been impossible."

"Regardless, it is a giant leap to go from D to C. It is still a risk to allow him to stir up the beast that keeps both us and the Varnakai at bay," Uvaak added, highlighting his doubts of the decision, "The other tribes have begun to stir- we are being pressured and outnumbered. If the wyvern dies and the void zone collapses, war will bloom like rot, and we are not ready to fight on two fronts."

Elyrra stood firm, her staff resting beside her as she met their gazes in turn. Elyrra stood firm, her staff resting beside her as she met their gazes in turn, "Yes, your doubts and questions are not without reason. But without Ash, do you all see our Kin even lasting to the next century? His coming doesn't fix our plight, but it fits the prophecy more than any silence we've held onto. Trusting him may hasten our end—but it also gives us a sliver of hope. I would rather die moving forward than rot standing still."

"Faith in prophecy is not action," muttered Uvaak, his glowing Rootborn eyes narrowing, "We speak of ancient words as if they are shields, but what if they lead us to ruin? He is still weak. If, by some miracle, he manages to slay the beast, who among us will hold the ground it leaves behind? The other tribes will not wait. They will strike, and we have no strength to match them."

He turned, his gaze sweeping the room with a tight grimace, "The Murkfen Kin already stand on a fractured precipice. Our borders are being increasingly tested by the Varnakai across the Voidscar Rift. If Ash somehow kills the wyvern, he will leave behind a vacuum, a flame that draws predators from all sides. And he does not have the power to fill it. Are we prepared to deal with the chaos that follows?"

Elyrra turned toward them both, her tone unwavering, "That is for us, as the older generation, to deal with. But before we allow our thoughts to get to that point, I believe that we all want to see the ability and power of Ash first."

She stepped back, her voice steadier than before, "You will have your answer."

With those words, Elyrra left the council chamber through a smaller root-lined passage, her antlers brushing softly against the damp bark. The elders and other Kin followed behind her in silence.

Beyond it, the space opened into a wide clearing — a training ground partially shrouded in bioluminescent fog and ringed with stone totems and mycelic growths.

There, Ash stood waiting, alongside Tholn and the Coilbound leader of the scouts, Yvren — a sleek, wiry Murkfen with pale bark-etched skin and glowing crimson spores woven into his mane. His eyes were sharp and calculating, and his limbs twitched with the restless tension of a beast born to stalk.

Elyrra called them over with a simple gesture.

She faced them all, voice firm, "Ash, after consulting the council, your strength still sits in question. So here is what will happen: for the next cycle — one full moon's length — you will remain near this village. You will train, hunt, and adapt. Yvren and Tholn will assess your growth."

Ash felt a weight settle in his chest at her words. He gave a slight nod, jaw tightening, saying nothing — yet behind his eyes, something else brewed. A flicker of tension, as though his focus had been snagged by something unseen, something unresolved that dragged his thoughts elsewhere.

Elyrra turned her gaze to Yvren, eyes narrowed with purpose, "You will observe him closely. Aid him only if death is near. I want no illusions."

Yvren's expression remained unreadable, but his jaw shifted ever so slightly, "Understood. The hunt teaches by pain and truth."

She then turned to Tholn, "Teach him our ways, our voice, our roots. The Kin must not walk beside a stranger."

Tholn gave a single nod, "He won't be one for long."

Ash had remained quiet, but his thoughts churned with tension and purpose. As Tholn and Yvren exchanged glances and were talking with Elyrra, a familiar chime echoed faintly in the back of Ash's mind — sharp, crystalline, and unwavering.

[Ding! Mission Assigned, "Trial of the Murkfen Kin"]

["Trial of the Murkfen Kin", Mission:

Info: Survive for one full moon cycle in the Murkfen Wilds while defeating beasts under the evaluation of Yvren.

Objective:

Survive for one full moon cycle (0/30)

Defeat 10 native beasts of the region (0/10)

Evaluation by Yvren (0%)

Reward: 5,000 EXP, 500 AP, 10 Stat Points]

Then, just as Ash had finished reading the mission details, another notification chimed in.

[Ding! You have observed the ancestral echoes within the Mycelic Archive. Hidden Objective Triggered]

[Ding! Mission Updated!]

["Trial of the Murkfen Kin", Mission:

Info: Survive for one full moon cycle in the Murkfen Wilds while defeating beasts under the evaluation of Yvren.

Objective:

Survive for one full moon cycle (0/30)

Defeat 10 native beasts of the region (0/10)

Evaluation by Yvren (0%)

{Hidden: Find a way to make 5 beasts submit to your will.}

{Hidden} Beasts that have submitted to your will (0/5)

Reward: 5,000 EXP, 500 AP, 10 Stat Points, ???]

Ash's gaze lingered on the floating windows before his eyes, his claws curling slightly with tension. The words hung in his mind, glowing faintly while excitement flooded his thoughts. He had not received a mission in a while now and the emergence of this only fuelled his desire to grow stronger.

The pop up of the hidden objective had caught him off guard though. He had not expected that his journey through the Mycelic Archive would be able to unlock a hidden feature in a mission. His excitement only grew upon reading what it required him to do too… It had suggested something that he had been thinking about but never actually thought was possible.

However, just as the light of the notifications faded and before he could continue in his thoughts, a voice cut through the quiet haze.

"Ash."

He blinked, the mission's glow retreating like a shadow peeled away from his focus. Elyrra stood a few paces ahead, her voice laced with an ancient steadiness.

"Come. Follow Tholn."

Ash tilted his head slightly, confused, "Where?"

"Your lodging. You'll rest tonight," Elyrra replied, gesturing to a winding path tucked beneath hanging moss and softly glowing ferns.

"Eh?"

All the excitement that was still free-flowing inside Ash's head suddenly halted abruptly as he heard Elyrra's statement. Why was he getting sent to rest again? He had just received a mission. He didn't want to stay here, he wanted to start immediately.

"I don't want to rest," he said, voice low, but firm, "I want to leave now."

Elyrra's eyes studied him quietly, and for a long moment, silence hung between them like mist. Then she stepped closer, her voice gentling but steady.

"You've endured injuries more than what your body could handle. Bone, blood, spirit — all frayed. I've seen your wounds. It is a surprise that you were even able to gain consciousness this quickly."

She gestured to the lingering glow of his chest and the stiffness in his stance, "Your limbs haven't fully mended. Your pulse still stutters in your aura. You'll rest for a few more nights until I examine your injuries and deem them healed."

Ash opened his mouth, ready to refuse. He wanted to move, to fight. The image of the wyvern taunted him — a challenge he burned to meet.

But as he shifted his weight, pain lanced through his ribs, reminding him just how broken his body still was. His leg shook, and a dull throb in his shoulder echoed the strike that nearly ended him.

He had been brought back to reality as his attention was redirected towards his injuries and as if sensing it, they immediately began sending pain signals.

He clenched his jaw. Not out of defiance, but to brace against the truth.

His body was still broken.

He exhaled slowly, the heat of frustration bleeding from his frame, replaced by reluctant acknowledgment. The fire within him remained, but it had to simmer.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice low. "One more day."

Elyrra's gaze softened with approval, and with a nod of her antlered head, she turned away. A soft shuffle of footsteps approached from the mist.

Tholn emerged, his silhouette cast in dim aetherlight, violet eyes catching Ash's.

"Come," he said quietly, tilting his head toward the path, "Let's get you to where you won't bleed on moss someone actually likes."

Ash didn't reply, but followed, each step tight with unspent fire. Even now, as he left the clearing behind, his mind circled one thing alone: strength. The kind he hadn't yet earned — but would.

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