Morning rose pale and quiet over what was once Emberfall Village.
The smoke had thinned, leaving only the faint smell of ash that clung to the soil.
The sun's first light touched broken roofs and blackened fields where laughter once lived.
Hunnt stood beside the forge, his new Veilborn Set glinting faintly red in the dawn. He flexed his gauntlets, the black metal pulsing with soft ember veins. Beside him, Alder fastened the straps of his Ember Sentinel armor, the plates fitting perfectly across his frame.
Alder turned his arm, admiring the molten glow under the chestplate.
"Didn't think it'd fit this well," he said with a grin.
Hunnt gave a small nod. "I built it to."
Alder chuckled. "Remind me never to underestimate a blacksmith with fists for weapons."
Hunnt smirked faintly. "You learn fast."
Before Alder could reply, Acting Chief Riel approached, his face tired but hopeful. "Hunters," he said, "we're ready to depart. Our destination is Korvan Village, three days north if the weather holds."
Hunnt nodded. "Understood. We'll keep watch."
He turned as Alder walked up beside him. "They're ready to move," Hunnt said. "One of us leads. The other guards the rear."
"I'll take the front," Alder offered. "You cover the back."
Hunnt agreed with a quiet nod.
Riel raised his hand. "Everyone, move out!"
The survivors began their slow march down the scarred road, carrying what little they had left. The air was still, save for the soft clatter of worn wheels and the muffled steps of tired feet.
As they passed beyond the last burnt fence, a breeze rolled through the ruins — warm, gentle, almost alive. The villagers stopped and turned back.
The scorched village seemed to glow faintly in the rising sun, the light shimmering through drifting ash. For a fleeting moment, it felt like Emberfall itself was breathing… whispering a final goodbye.
Riel's wife clutched his arm, tears glinting in her eyes. "This may be the last we see our home," she murmured.
Riel nodded slowly. "Then let it rest."
They turned again and continued their journey. Hunnt followed behind, silent, his eyes sweeping the horizon.
---
Hours passed. By midday, the air grew warmer, the land flattening into dusty plains.
Alder walked at the front beside Riel, keeping his hand close to his blade.
"How long to Korvan?" Alder asked.
"Three days if we move light," Riel said. "Four or five with children and elders."
Alder nodded. "Then we'll keep the pace steady. We've seen worse terrain."
Hunnt kept his position at the rear, silent as always, scanning for movement. Nothing stirred but the wind and the rustle of distant grass.
By dusk, they found a clearing to rest. The men gathered branches for fire while women prepared what little food they had left. Children curled near the flames, their eyes heavy with exhaustion. The smell of cooked roots and dried meat mingled with smoke.
Hunnt approached Riel and Alder. "I'll scout the area," he said. "Make sure the path's clear."
Riel nodded. "Be careful, hunter."
Alder smirked. "You always vanish without sound."
Hunnt gave a faint shrug. "It's quieter that way."
Then, with a step and blur of motion, he disappeared into the dark.
---
The wilderness was silent under the stars.
Hunnt leapt from branch to branch using Soru, his movements swift and soundless.
Through Observation Haki, the world unfolded — faint heartbeats, whispers of movement, the quiet tremor of life hidden in shadow.
He found traces of lesser monsters, but none close enough to threaten the caravan.
When one creature wandered too near, Hunnt released a controlled pulse of Conqueror's Haki. The air rippled.
The creature froze, whimpered, and fled into the night.
The silence returned.
Satisfied, Hunnt turned back toward the camp. But halfway there, he paused — sensing a presence he hadn't felt in a long time.
Familiar… calm… steady.
He narrowed his eyes. "That can't be…"
---
Meanwhile, at the camp.
The villagers had eaten, and quiet had fallen over the clearing. Only the crackle of fire and the soft hum of night insects filled the air.
Then came a sound — faint rustling from the far side of the woods.
The men froze. Mothers drew children closer.
Alder rose immediately, hand on his sword. "Stay back," he told the villagers.
The rustling grew louder. A shadow moved behind the trees.
"Monster?" someone whispered.
Alder positioned himself between the villagers and the sound, eyes locked on the darkness.
The figure stepped out slowly — cloak tattered, boots caked with dust, the faint glint of metal on his wrist.
Alder tightened his grip on the great sword, ready to strike.
"Whoa there, hunter," the stranger said, voice steady. "I'm human."
Alder hesitated but didn't lower his guard. The man stepped closer, the firelight catching his face — older, weathered, sharp-eyed.
Then Alder saw it — the black insignia carved into the man's right bracer: a clenched fist within a circle.
The Eternal Mark.
Alder's tension eased slightly. "You're… one of us."
The man smiled faintly and lifted his bracer toward the firelight. "That I am," he said.
He stepped forward, extending a hand. "Name's Kael."
Alder took it firmly. "Alder."
Kael's eyes drifted to the villagers, then back to the mark etched into Alder's armor. His tone softened.
"You wear the Eternal Mark," Kael said quietly. "Hunnt must've recognized you as a potential member of the Eternal Wanderer."
Alder nodded slowly. "He did."
Kael's smile widened, proud and approving. "Then you've already earned it. He doesn't mark anyone untested."
Behind them, Acting Chief Riel stepped closer, cautious. "He's… a friend?"
Alder nodded. "He is."
Relief washed through the camp. The tension broke as Kael lowered his hood and sat near the fire, his presence calm and deliberate — the bearing of a seasoned wanderer.
Riel exhaled. "You lead these people?" Kael asked him quietly.
Riel nodded. "Acting chief of Emberfall. We're heading to Korvan Village."
Kael inclined his head respectfully. "A long road. But you've done well to get them this far."
Riel offered a weary smile. "Luck, and these hunters' strength."
Kael turned slightly, sensing movement behind him.
A familiar voice called from the darkness.
"Still sneaking around where you don't belong, huh, Kael?"
Kael turned, grinning. "Tch. Took you long enough to show yourself, Hunnt."
Hunnt stepped into the firelight, his new gauntlets glowing faintly like molten veins.
He looked at Kael, half-smiling. "Didn't think I'd find you wandering this side of the frontier."
Kael stood, meeting his gaze with quiet humor. "And I didn't think I'd find you leading a caravan."
Hunnt smirked. "Guess we both got lost."
The two clasped forearms in greeting — firm, familiar, the kind of handshake shared by brothers who'd fought side by side before.
Riel watched the exchange with surprise. "You two know each other?"
Hunnt nodded. "Yeah. Old friend."
Kael chuckled. "Old enough to know when he's in trouble."
Riel smiled faintly. "Then I'll take it we're safe tonight."
Hunnt nodded once. "You are."
As Riel walked off to check the tents, the three Wanderers sat around the campfire, the flames reflecting in their eyes — past, present, and purpose converging under the same stars.
Kael glanced at Alder, then at Hunnt. "Seems the Path brings its own timing," he said softly.
Hunnt's lips curved in a quiet grin. "It always does."