While on the other side—
An air blade curved through the space between trees.
The head of a Tighorn separated cleanly from its body and rolled across the forest floor, coming to a stop beside a broken root.
"I'll take these four," Carkhat said calmly, already moving. "You handle the rest, Acarme."
Without waiting for a reply, he charged straight ahead.
The remaining Tighorns roared and surged toward him, heavy footsteps shaking the ground. Their movements were aggressive but crude—wide swings, reckless charges.
Carkhat raised his hand.
The thin whip at his waist unfurled instantly, straightening unnaturally as mana surged through it. The flexible length hardened mid-air, becoming rigid like steel for a brief moment.
He thrust.
The whip pierced straight through a monster's chest and snapped back just as quickly, returning to its fluid form. Before the body even fell, Carkhat twisted his wrist.
The whip curved again—this time wrapping around a Tighorn's leg. With a sharp pull and a sudden release of mana, the limb tore free.
The monster collapsed, screaming.
Carkhat didn't slow.
To his left, Acarme was already moving.
He vanished in a burst of compressed wind, reappearing behind a Tighorn in the blink of an eye. His palm brushed against the creature's face.
Flame bloomed.
Not an explosion—just concentrated heat, flaring for an instant. The monster staggered back, howling as its skin blistered.
Acarme stepped past it.
Several wind blades condensed behind him, thin and barely visible. With a single sweeping motion of his arm, they launched forward—layered, aligned, cutting in perfect succession.
Two Tighorns were sliced cleanly in half, bodies collapsing before they even understood what had happened.
The last monster charged blindly.
Acarme didn't even look.
Another blade flickered, severing its spine.
Dust settled.
"Are you done, Carkhat?" Acarme asked casually, dusting off his hands.
"Yeah. Pretty much," Carkhat replied, driving his whip straight through the chest of the final Tighorn. The weapon softened again as he withdrew it, looping naturally back around his waist like a belt.
He glanced around once, then nodded. "Let's check the others."
Elsewhere—
A massive boulder slammed down from above, crushing a Tighorn's skull in a single blow.
"Huff… huff…" Garry exhaled sharply as the monster collapsed. "Finally… done."
He leaned forward, hands on his knees, chest rising and falling steadily. His arms trembled—not from panic, but from exertion. Sweat ran down his temples, streaked with dirt.
Nearby, broken stone and earth littered the ground—pillars, spikes, walls, all shaped hastily but effectively.
Garry straightened slowly.
He wasn't exhausted.
Just… used.
And strangely satisfied.
On the opposite side of the clearing—
Dary raised her staff, the tip glowing faintly blue. Moisture condensed rapidly, spiraling outward from the air itself. A Tighorn staggered as water wrapped around its head and chest, tightening like invisible chains.
Beside her, Cael moved with sharp precision.
She extended her hand, heat building inward rather than outward. The fire didn't burst—it seeped.
The monster convulsed, steam escaping from its mouth and eyes before it collapsed.
Another Tighorn charged.
Dary struck the ground with her staff, sending a surge of water forward that knocked the creature off balance. Cael followed instantly, igniting the air around its torso.
The monster burned from within.
The last one fell moments later, its body dropping heavily into the dirt.
Dary lowered her staff, breathing evenly.
Cael wiped her brow. "That should be it."
Minutes later, everyone regrouped near the rock where Clara had been sitting the entire time.
She closed her book.
"You're better than I expected," Clara said calmly.
"Is that so?" Acarme replied with a faint smile.
"Thanks," Garry added, still catching his breath but smiling anyway.
Cael glanced at Dary. "Can you give me a healing pill? She got a bit hurt."
"It's nothing," Dary said quickly. "Just a scratch."
Clara didn't argue. She opened one of the supply bags and pulled out a small green pill.
"Eat it."
Dary hesitated, then swallowed it.
The pain faded almost instantly.
"…That's ridiculous," Dary muttered.
"You all rest here for a few minutes," Clara said. "I'll scout ahead."
She was gone before anyone could respond.
Clara returned ten minutes later.
"It's clear," she said. "There's a suitable place to camp not far from here."
No one argued.
They moved again, the forest swallowing the evidence of the fight behind them. The further they walked, the denser the trees became, their trunks thick and twisted, roots clawing at the ground like grasping hands. The light thinned as the canopy closed above them, turning the world into shifting shades of green and shadow.
They reached the camp spot just before dusk.
It was a shallow clearing ringed by moss-covered stones and fallen branches. A small stream ran nearby, its water quiet and clear. With practiced efficiency, they set to work.
This time, everything went smoothly.
Acarme and Carkhat checked the perimeter while Cael and Dary prepared the fire. Garry gathered stones and shaped them into a simple barrier around the camp—nothing elaborate, just enough to mark their space.
Dinner was simple.
Dried meat, forest mushrooms, and warmed broth.
But after the day they'd had, it tasted better than it should have.
As night settled in, the forest grew quiet again. Too quiet.
Garry sat on a low rock near the fire, sword resting beside him. He rolled his shoulders slowly, testing the soreness in his arms. It wasn't painful—just a reminder that he'd pushed himself today.
He replayed the fight in his head.
The timing of his spells.
The moment he reacted without thinking.
The way the earth had moved when he needed it.
He wasn't proud.
But he was… content.
For the first time since entering the forest, he felt like he'd handled himself properly.
That was enough.
Nearby, Carkhat lay flat on his back, staring up through the leaves. "Still creepy," he muttered. "Doesn't matter how many times I do this."
Cael smirked. "You complain more than the monsters."
Acarme leaned against a tree, eyes half-closed, feeling the air shift around him. Clara sat a little apart, scribbling something into a small notebook, her expression unreadable.
The days that followed were… easy.
Too easy.
They encountered only a handful of monsters—one or two at a time. Nothing dangerous. Nothing coordinated. Each was dealt with quickly and without injury.
They walked.
They ate.
They rested.
The forest remained watchful, but distant.
By the seventh day, they had begun to relax.
That was when it happened.
They were moving through a narrow stretch of trees when Clara suddenly stopped.
The air felt wrong.
Not loud.
Not tense.
Crowded.
All around them, shapes moved between trunks and roots.
Dozens.
Then more.
The ground trembled—not from a single direction, but from everywhere at once.
Carkhat's hand tightened at his side. "That's… a lot."
Acarme's eyes sharpened, scanning the forest.
Garry's core pulsed faintly, the same strange sensation returning—stronger this time.
Clara didn't sit down.
She raised her hand.
"Formation," she said.
The forest answered with a low, rising growl.
They were surrounded.