The boots made a sharp, dry crunch against gravel and dust.
Dylan adjusted the strap on his shoulder, shifting the weight of his issued pack. Same black uniform, now scuffed at the knees. Same squad, minus the awkward silence.
This was their third field assignment in as many days. He was starting to notice the pattern: fatigue, pressure, minimal prep time, and eyes watching from somewhere unseen.
The Redrock Wild Zone wasn't a real wasteland—but it was close enough.
They stood at the edge of a carved ravine, heat shimmer rising off rust-colored stone. Sharp ridges jutted like broken teeth. Bone-dry brush and thorny stalks clawed at the ground like they'd given up on growing vertically.
Bran adjusted the massive shield on his back. Erin cracked her knuckles and exhaled a little puff of heat.
"Two beasts minimum," she muttered. "Confirmed kills only. Flares mark the route back. Straightforward."
Dylan didn't say anything.
"East ridge has something heavier," he said casually.
Erin looked over, squinting. "You sure?"
"I'm never not."
A short grunt from Bran. That passed for agreement.
They moved quietly, boots whispering against dry stone. The squad's movement had smoothed out since their first mission — fewer arguments, fewer missteps. Erin still barked orders sometimes, but she didn't question Dylan's instincts anymore. Not openly, at least.
They crept along a jagged trail carved by previous engagements. Signs of past fights: broken flare crystals, melted obsidian from fire strikes, blood baked into stone.
The wind changed.
And something hissed.
"Cover!" Dylan shouted, dropping low.
A whip of fungal tendrils shot out from behind a crumbled boulder, dragging spores in its wake. Bran blocked the worst of it with his shield, staggered but holding.
[SCAN – CONFIRMED TARGET: FUNGAL BRUTE]
[Tier 4 – mutated variant – skills: spore burst, acidic glands, enhanced muscle regeneration]
Erin was already moving, launching a controlled stream of flame toward the creature's flank. The brute—something like a gorilla made of muscle, rot, and wet fungus—roared and reared up, its back splitting slightly to release a wave of spores.
"Back!" Dylan snapped.
Bran fell to a knee, shield raised. Erin's flames seared through the spore cloud, but not fast enough. Some of it clung to her uniform and hissed. She swore.
Dylan moved around the edge, stepping behind rocks. His hand reached into his inventory—
[INVENTORY]
– Scout Knife
– Basic Fire Stone (1)
He pulled the fire stone and pressed it against the blade's hilt, mentally activating the surface spark. The knife glowed faintly.
"Distraction," he muttered, and then darted forward.
The Fungal Brute spotted him late. It turned, swiping with one massive claw, but Dylan dropped to a slide and came up behind it.
A burst of heat—he jammed the blade into the underfold of flesh near the base of its back, where the spinal root twisted out. The stone flared once—
—and the brute howled.
It spun wildly, crashing sideways into the rock wall. Bran met it there, shield-first. Erin launched a wide wave of fire across its midsection, crisping the fungal plating.
The beast screamed once more and then dropped, twitching.
Dead.
For real.
Dylan didn't wait for congrats. He moved to the body, fingers brushing against the still-warm corpse.
[SHADOW EXTRACTION – INITIATED]
[Eligible Target Confirmed]
[Extraction In Progress…]
[Success]
The shadow twisted out silently, like dark ink unraveling into shape. No light. No sound.
What emerged was a bulkier version of the beast — same silhouette, but smoother, cleaner. Glowing blue cracks lined its arms. Its eye burned like a cold coal.
It bowed.
Dylan didn't speak.
He simply thought: Return.
The shadow melted into the ground.
When he turned, Erin was staring at him.
"Did you just—?"
"I don't know," he lied smoothly. "It just happened."
Her brow furrowed. "That's… not how Beast Tamers work."
Bran looked uncertain, eyes lingering on the blackened ground.
"Well," Dylan said, already walking, "maybe I'm not one."
Later, back at Fort Carneras
Reeva Talin stood over the holo-display.
Three separate video feeds hovered in midair, each showing Squad 19 from different angles. All eyes were focused on the final moments of the Fungal Brute.
Specifically, the black ripple that pulsed under Dylan's hand just before the body disintegrated.
The assistant leaned in. "That's three confirmed extractions, ma'am. Each one clean. No aura flux. No binding time."
Reeva's fingers tapped the side of her tablet.
"And no Tamer command chant. He doesn't speak to them. They just obey."
"Which means—?"
"He's not using any registered class."
The assistant nodded. "Should we elevate surveillance?"
Reeva's eyes never left the screen.
"No," she said. "We flag him. Watch. But don't interrupt."
That night
In his room, Dylan sat on the bed, shirt off, reviewing the interface.
[STATUS]
Name: Dylan Hayes
Level: 6
Class: Shadow Monarch
XP: 10 / 220
Stat Points: +3
[SHADOW LIST]
– Ravager Hound (E–)
– Flame Vulture (E+)
– Fungal Brute (E)
[INVENTORY]
– Scout Knife
He didn't say anything. Just stared at the screen.
The shadows felt heavier now. Not in a bad way — just... fuller. Like something was growing under the surface, watching with him.
"Three," he murmured. "Still not enough."
His fingers drummed once on the windowsill.
Then he shut the interface and stared at the black sky, quiet.