The field stank of blood and smoke, the last embers of the bandit camp flickering against the night sky. Arden gave his orders without raising his voice.

"Kill the beasts. Don't waste time."

Rael and Nyra moved first, spells flashing as they brought down the half-starved beasts left chained to the wagons.

Zephyra leapt from the shadows, her cerulean flame scattering across the dirt as she tore into one of the larger ones. Her strikes were swift and merciless, not the play of a human hand but the clean kill of a predator.

It didn't take long. The camp was already broken, the beasts weaker than the men who had commanded them.

Soon the wagons were theirs. Nyra wiped blood from her cheek and gave a nod.

"All clear."

Arden glanced once at the corpses, then at the crates of herbs stacked inside the wagons.

The faint glow of preserved aether clung to them, rows of sealed boxes heavy with value.

He motioned for them to load everything intact.

"Take it all. These are our spoils."

The work was quiet and efficient. Rael and Nyra tied the crates down while Zephyra prowled the edge of the camp, her low growl a reminder that she hadn't yet calmed from the fight. Arden only watched, his expression unreadable, though his mind was far from still.

He knew the news would spread. He had let men escape on purpose, and they would run their mouths as soon as they found ears willing to listen. By morning, the upper lines of the organization would know three of their hybrids lay dead.

And they wouldn't laugh it off. Not anymore.

Arden leaned against the wagon, firelight cutting across his eyes. "They'll move soon," he muttered.

The journey began before dawn. The wheels creaked, as the horizon slowly opened before them.

Arden sat on the front of the lead wagon, the chill of the night air brushing past him.

For a time he was silent, then the familiar system glow spread before his eyes.

[System Notification]

[Life Signature Acquired

Source: Human Base: Battle Mage (Fire Affinity, melee-oriented spellstrikes)

Beast Infusion: Blazehorn Ravager (Fire affinity beast, known for volatile flame glands and explosive charges)

Name: Cinderhorn Surge

Effect: Harnesses unstable fusion of human fire-casting and beast combustion organs.

Flameburst Charge: Melee strikes erupt with concussive fire shockwaves.

Overheat Pulse: Short bursts of internal combustion flare outward, boosting speed and aggression].

[Life Signature Acquired

Source: Human Base: Battle Mage (Fire Affinity – tactical caster specialized in burst control)

Beast Infusion: Smokeclaw Jackal (Affinity: Shadow / Fire — renowned for serrated bone blades and smoke-gland diversions)

Name: Ashfang Mirage

Effect: A fusion of cunning human spellcraft and beast-born predation.

Serrated Conduits: Arm-blades channel fire affinity into slashes that cut and burn simultaneously.

Smoke Veil Diversion: Controlled bursts of smoke and sparks disrupt enemy rhythm and obscure vision.

Predator's Reflex: Agility and reflexes sharpen in smoke or dim light].

[Life Signature Acquired

Source: Human Base: Battle Mage (Close-combat focus, earth affinity reinforcement)

Beast Infusion: Ironhide Mauler (Earth affinity beast, known for seismic bursts and armored traits)

Name: Ironburst Vein

Effect: Channels explosive earth-forged energy into sudden bursts of strength.

Burst Reinforcement: Muscles and bones harden briefly, granting immense power but reducing agility.

Ironhide Trace: Each strike layers residual defensive plating, dulling incoming damage].

Arden studied the glowing lines of text, his gaze steady as he weighed each one.

"Cinderhorn Surge… raw firepower, but reckless. Perfect for forcing an opening, but it'll eat through me if I push too long.

Ashfang Mirage… smoke and serrated fire. That's precision, misdirection. A fighter's trick. I'll need to save it for when I'm outnumbered, or when the ground tilts against me.

Then Ironburst Vein… tough, steady, and brutal. Good for holding ground, but I'll lose speed. Can't lean on it unless the trade is worth it."

The corner of his lips pulled in a faint smirk. "Not bad. I'll make them mine."

Rael noticed first. "He's been brooding all night, and now look at him," he said, nudging Nyra with a grin. "Quiet as stone, then smirking like a lunatic."

Nyra laughed softly. "Don't tell me you're talking to your invisible friends again, Arden."

Arden blinked, dragging his gaze from the interface. "If I was, they're smarter than you lot."

That earned a chorus of chuckles. Even Zephyra rumbled low, a sound that might have been approval.

The banter carried on, their laughter rolling with the wheels. But beneath it, they all caught the weight in Arden's silence, the worry he tried to bury.

They knew he carried the risk for them, not just himself. And so they joked louder, cracked little insults, and made noise enough to ease what they could. Arden didn't stop them. He let their voices fill the cold road, their trust warming him in ways the fire in his veins could not.

Far from the wagons, in a hidden chamber beneath stone and shadow, another fire burned.

The upper circle of the creed gathered around a dark table, their masks reflecting the pale glow of shifting crystals.

The air shimmered, as though their images were only projections bleeding through distortion. Voices layered over one another, sharp and cold.

"The hybrids at the camp are dead."

"Three of them. Slain by the same outbounds."

Silence fell for a moment. Then came the scoff of a man's voice. "So we are truly speaking of insects now? I warned you they were nothing."

"They are no longer nothing," another cut in, her voice sharp as steel. "They took wagons meant for our next supply run. And they've cut down three of our chosen."

"They are few," the scoffer pressed. "Annoying, yes. But expendable."

A different tone answered this time, calm yet edged with disdain. "Expendable until they disrupt the order. These deaths will ripple through the lower ranks. Whispers of weakness will spread if we ignore it."

The table shifted, the crystals sparking faintly.

All eyes turned to one figure at the far end, cloaked in heavier shadow.

"You claimed Greyhold and the Outbounds was under control," the figure said, voice low. "Yet these pests walk free. They kill our hybrids. They carry our wagons."

The man addressed stiffened but bowed his head. "It was a misstep. I will correct it."

"You will," the figure confirmed. "Quickly. Our plans have progressed far enough. We cannot afford delays."

The distortion rippled, each image flickering as if time itself bent around their gathering.

Their words layered one over another before fading into silence. Only the faint hum of the crystals remained, cold and steady.

Back on the road, Arden looked at the path ahead.

He didn't know their next move yet, but he didn't need to. Whatever the creed decided, he would face it head-on.

He leaned back on the wagon seat, smirk still tugging at the edge of his lips.

"Let them come."

The wheels rolled on, carrying them toward Greyhold, and toward the storm that waited there.

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