The roar rolled through the trees again, this time close enough to rattle the air in their lungs. Branches snapped. Something heavy—too heavy—was moving fast.
The masked hunters shifted formation with uncanny speed, their leader thrusting her spear into the ground. "Form a line! Keep it from breaking through!"
Kaelen's group hesitated for half a heartbeat, then Ayla barked, "Move!"
The creature burst into view—an elk twisted into nightmare. Its antlers dripped with black resin, each tine moving like a serpent. The forest blight had stretched its body into something gaunt and wrong, ribs shifting as if alive.
It didn't stop to threaten. It charged.
Kaelen rolled aside as a thrashing antler slammed into a tree, shearing it in half. Lior's runes flared, sending a blade of light into the beast's flank—it shrieked, the sound making teeth ache.
The hunters fought with brutal precision. Two tangled its legs with chains etched in warding sigils, while another drove a bone spear deep into its shoulder. Still, the thing didn't slow.
Ayla ducked under an antler sweep, slashing across its exposed ribs. Black ichor hissed as it hit the earth, the ground sizzling where it landed.
The leader of the hunters shouted, "Keep it distracted—I'll strike the core!"
Kaelen saw the opening before anyone else. He darted in low, feinting left so the creature turned just enough for the leader to leap forward and drive her glowing spear straight into the blight-swollen heart.
The elk let out a final, horrible sound—part roar, part scream—before collapsing.
Silence fell, broken only by the ragged breathing of both groups.
The leader pulled her spear free, wiping it clean with practiced motions. "Not bad," she said, glancing at Kaelen's group. "Maybe you're worth more alive than I thought."
But her eyes lingered on Lior again, and the tension in her voice made one thing clear: this was no friendship. Just a pause in the inevitable.