Bruce stopped walking before he knew why.
His foot hovered above the ground, weight suspended mid-step, every instinct in his body tightening at once.
Behind him, Vernon stopped with him.
"I hear something dripping.. and its not water." Vernon started.
"I sense someone over there," Bruce said under his breath.
Derek was already still.
The forest ahead looked unchanged. Trees stood where trees had always stood. Wind moved through the canopy in its lazy, indifferent way. Birds called. Insects buzzed.
Nothing was wrong.
And yet-
"Someone's bleeding," Bruce said.
Vernon frowned. "was that not obvious from what i said?"
Bruce didn't answer immediately. His eyes tracked the slope ahead, the shallow ravine cutting through the undergrowth. His chest felt tight, Qi stirring faintly without conscious command.
"Not fresh," he said finally. "But close. And moving."
Derek glanced at him. "How sure?"
Bruce swallowed. "Enough."
Derek nodded once.
That was all.
They advanced more carefully now, steps placed with intention. Vernon extended his senses outward-not forcing, just listening. Mana hummed faintly in his awareness, brushing against roots, stones, the air itself.
Then he felt it.
A disturbance.
Not mana.
People.
"They're not alone," Vernon murmured. "Multiple footsteps.. i can't quite pin point them out, seems some are good at hiding their presence."
Derek's hand dropped to the dagger at his side.
"Positions," he said quietly.
They crested the ravine a minute later.
The man collapsed into view.
He was older than Derek had expected-late thirties, maybe early forties-with dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. One arm was clutched tight against his ribs, blood soaking through torn fabric. His boots were expensive. Worn, but well-made. His clothes were practical, layered for travel, but unmistakably crafted.
Not a hunter.
Not a soldier.
He stumbled, caught himself against a tree, and nearly went down again.
Derek stepped forward.
"Don't move," he said.
The man spun, eyes sharp despite the pain. His free hand twitched toward his belt-then froze as he took in the three of them.
Two boys.
One adult.
No insignia.
No colours.
The man exhaled slowly. "I was hoping for fewer teeth," he said hoarsely. "But I'll take what I can get."
Bruce blinked. "You're... calm."
The man huffed a breath that might have been a laugh. "Panic wastes blood."
Derek's gaze flicked to the trees behind him. "Sit. Slowly."
The man obeyed without protest, lowering himself against the trunk. When he released his side even slightly, blood welled immediately.
Vernon winced. "You won't make it far like that."
"I know," the man said. His eyes flicked to Vernon's hands, lingering just a fraction too long. "That's why I stopped running."
Derek crouched a few steps away, never taking his eyes off the surrounding forest. "Who's chasing you?"
The man hesitated.
Bruce felt it instantly.
"That pause," Bruce said. "That was a lie."
The man's mouth twitched. "Not a lie. A calculation."
Derek didn't press.
Instead, he said, "How many?"
"At least six," the man replied. "Maybe more."
Vernon frowned. "Seems about right - they also seem well paced."
"I know how many I saw," the man said. "The rest didn't announce themselves."
Derek stood. "Bruce."
Bruce was already moving, scanning the ground. "Tracks are deliberate. Not rushed. They know he's bleeding."
Vernon closed his eyes briefly, focusing. Mana brushed outward, subtle, restrained.
"They're fanning," he said. "Trying to corral him. Not chasing blindly."
The man's eyes sharpened. "You're good."
Derek's voice was flat. "You brought trouble here."
"Yes," the man said simply. "And I'd very much like to survive it."
Bruce looked at Derek. "They're not monsters."
"No," Derek said. "But with what they are doing they are no different from monsters."
The forest shifted.
Six figures emerged between the trees, and a few others hidden, spaced evenly, weapons lowered but ready. Their clothing was uniform in function if not design-leather, reinforced cloth, light armour. Faces partially covered. Movements disciplined.
Not bandits.
One of them stepped forward.
"Hand him over," the leader said. "This doesn't concern you."
Derek didn't move.
"He's injured," Derek replied. "That makes him my concern."
The leader's gaze flicked to Bruce. Then Vernon. He paused.
"...You don't want this," he said.
Vernon met his eyes calmly. "You don't know what we want."
The leader smiled thinly. "I know what you are."
Bruce's Qi stirred, cold threading through his limbs. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Unregistered," the man said. "Unaligned."
The injured man laughed quietly. "Ah. So you noticed."
Derek's eyes narrowed. "Who do you work for?"
The leader ignored him. "Sir. With respect. Your employer has already written you off."
The injured man sighed. "That was faster than I expected."
Vernon's head tilted slightly. "Employer?"
The man glanced at him. "Told you. Calculations."
The leader raised a hand.
The others shifted, tightening formation.
Bruce's instincts screamed.
"They're about to move," he said.
Derek stepped forward.
"No killing intent," he said evenly-not as a reminder, but as a boundary.
The leader hesitated.
Just for a heartbeat.
That was enough.
A low rumble rolled through the air-not sound, but pressure.
Derek released a fraction of his Qi.
The ground beneath his feet cracked.
Leaves shuddered.
The pursuers staggered, instincts overriding discipline as their bodies reacted to something they could not measure.
Bruce felt it like standing too close to a cliff edge.
Vernon's mana flared reflexively before he forced it down.
The leader gritted his teeth. "You're making a mistake."
Derek's voice was calm. "You're free to leave."
Silence stretched.
The leader looked at the injured man, then back at Derek.
"...This isn't over," he said.
"It never is," the injured man replied lightly.
The group withdrew-slowly, carefully, eyes never leaving Derek until the trees swallowed them whole.
Only then did Derek exhale.
Bruce released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "They weren't afraid."
"They were measuring," Derek said. "Never falter in a situation like this."
Vernon turned to the injured man. "You knew they'd back off."
"I knew they'd hesitate," the man corrected. "That's all anyone ever needs."
Derek studied him. "Who are you?"
The man was quiet for a long moment.
Then he said, "My name carries weight where you're headed."
Vernon stiffened. "We're not headed anywhere."
The man smiled faintly. "Not yet."
Bruce frowned. "You didn't answer."
The man met his eyes. "I own a company. Transport. Goods. People. Information."
Derek's gaze hardened. "That makes you trouble."
"Yes," the man agreed. "But also opportunity."
Vernon glanced at Bruce. Then Derek. "He's bleeding out."
Derek knelt. "Sit still."
As Derek worked, binding the wound with practiced efficiency, the man watched him closely.
"You're not what I expected," the man said.
Derek didn't look up. "You don't know what to expect."
"That's exactly it," the man replied.
Bruce asked quietly, "Why were they after you?"
The man's eyes flicked to the trees. "Because I refused to sell something that wasn't mine to sell."
Vernon narrowed his eyes. "People?"
The man didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
When the bleeding finally slowed, Derek leaned back. "You'll live."
The man exhaled. "I owe you one."
"No," Derek said. "You don't."
The man smiled. "I can't just take this help for granted.. hm. Then allow me to make an offer instead."
He reached into his coat slowly, producing a small, embossed token and setting it on the ground.
"When you decide to see the world beyond these trees, to be more exact - Hearth-Groves. You will find me in Hearth-Groves." he said, "bring this with you."
Bruce stared at it. "And if we don't?"
"Then nothing changes," the man replied. "But if you do-"
He met Vernon's eyes.
"-you'll want allies before others decide what you are."
Derek stood. "You're not inviting us."
"No," the man said. "I'm warning you."
The forest was quiet again.
But it no longer felt empty.
As they watched the man limp away under Derek's watchful gaze, Bruce spoke softly.
"...There's a whole world out there."
Vernon didn't answer.
But his fingers brushed the token once.
And did not pull away.