They continue forward, weaving through the endless maze of mist and trees. Time loses its shape—minutes stretch into hours, hours blur into a rhythm of movement, silence, and sudden death.

Every time a beast appears—a Tier 2, a Tier 3, sometimes even a Tier 4—they strike first. No hesitation, no mercy. Their blades and spells flash once, then silence follows.

The carcasses vanish into the fog, and they move again.

But something feels wrong.

It starts as a pattern too subtle to notice. Then Kyra frowns, crouching low as she studies a patch of broken undergrowth.

"…It's like they know exactly where we are," she murmurs.

Bragg looks up from dragging a corpse into the shadows, his brow furrowing. "Yeah… I've been thinking the same thing."

A quiet tension settles over the group. Even the forest seems to hold its breath.

Alix remains still, eyes half-closed. His senses expand again, threads of mana stretching outward like ripples in still water. He feels it—their presence. Dozens of small movements, circling, drawing closer each time they change direction.

They're being tracked.

Kyra straightens suddenly, scanning the mist. "Wait." She kneels again, her palm pressed against the earth. Her magic flickers faintly, the mist responding to her presence—but something's off.

They keep moving. Slowly this time. Every sound feels sharper—the crunch of a boot, the whisper of wind through leaves, the distant growl of something they can't see.

Minutes pass. Then—

A low, guttural sound rolls through the fog ahead. A beast steps out—a hulking, scaled creature with spined shoulders and four glowing eyes. Tier 5.

Bragg raises a hand, signaling silence. "Don't let it scream."

Kyra nods and vanishes into the fog, her presence folding into the mist like a phantom. Verrin steadies his staff, muttering under his breath as faint lines of light crawl across the ground. Mave draws his blades, eyes locked on the creature's throat.

The Tier 5 beast sniffs the air, slow and deliberate. Its four eyes narrow—right before Bragg moves.

He's a blur of muscle and steel, his fist crashing into the creature's ribs with a sound like thunder trapped in a jar. The impact sends it flying into a tree, cracking bark and bone alike. Kyra darts in next, blades slicing through one leg, severing tendons in a clean motion.

It collapses—but before Bragg can crush its skull, it opens its maw.

A single, strangled roar escapes. Deep, guttural—ripping through the mist.

Bragg curses, slamming his fist through the creature's head. "Shit!"

The forest answers.

The ground trembles, leaves shake loose from every direction, and an echo rolls through the trees—hundreds of cries responding to that one call.

Kyra's eyes widen. "Bragg…"

"I know," he growls. "We're screwed."

Mave lets out a dry laugh that cracks halfway through. "We are dead."

"Run!!" Toren bellows.

They move.

The forest explodes around them—shadows streaking through the fog, shapes too many to count. Tier 2s burst from the undergrowth, snapping and snarling. Tier 3s follow, their roars blending into a chaotic chorus. In the distance, heavier footsteps pound the earth—Tier 4s, and worse.

Kyra slashes through a lunging beast, her twin blades slicing clean through its neck. "Left!" she shouts.

Bragg smashes another aside with his shoulder, the impact sending the creature crashing through a boulder. "We can't fight them all! Move!"

Verrin raises a hand, conjuring a blast of wind that sweeps through the path behind them, throwing dirt and broken branches into the horde's faces. "That won't hold long!" he warns.

Toren grips his sword, aura flaring bright blue. "Then we make it count!" He spins, cutting through three beasts in a single sweeping arc before sprinting after the group.

The mist turns crimson. Every second, a beast dies. The air reeks of iron and smoke.

A pack of razor-backed wolves bursts from the side—Tier 4s, sleek and fast. Kyra throws a dagger mid-run, mana flaring along its edge. The blade detonates on impact, a flash of white light disorienting them for an instant.

Bragg takes advantage, charging through, his fists slamming into two of them with enough force to break the air itself. Bones snap, blood sprays.

Mave leaps over a fallen log, spinning midair as he cuts down a lunging serpent-beast. "There's no end to them!"

Verrin's voice strains as he channels more mana. "They're converging—north, west, east—every direction!"

Kyra grits her teeth, eyes darting between paths. "Then we make our own damn path!" She raises both arms and slashes, her aura exploding outward. A cyclone of blades tears through the mist, shredding everything in a wide arc.

"Go!!" she shouts, sprinting through the gap before the mist closes again.

The others follow, Alix silently bringing up the rear.

As they flee, the ground begins to quake harder. A multiple roar echoes from the far distance—deeper, older, powerful enough to shake the trees.

Verrin stumbles, eyes wide. "That… that doesn't sound good."

Bragg grits his teeth, sweat and blood mixing down his neck. "Don't say it."

Mave glances back, his face pale. "Tier six?"

The next roar answers for him. The mist behind them splits apart as something massive moves—branches snapping like matchsticks, mana waves slamming outward.

Run faster!" Bragg shouts, slamming through a cluster of beasts trying to cut them off.

Kyra's breathing grows ragged, her blades dripping. "We won't outrun them forever!"

Alix's voice cuts through the chaos—calm, sharp, absolute.

"Go left."

No hesitation. No questions.

Everyone veers left as one, boots pounding against moss and mud. The forest blurs around them—trees flashing past, the roars behind them growing louder, closer. Then, through the mist, something dark yawns open in the slope ahead.

"A cave!" Kyra gasps, disbelief mixing with relief.

Bragg doesn't slow. "Don't care what's inside—move!"

They dive in, one after another. The moment they cross the threshold, the outside noise dulls—muffled but still there, a storm of sound pressing against the cave mouth. Bragg turns, bracing himself at the entrance, ready to crush anything that comes through.

"Verrin!" Kyra snaps.

"I know!"

Verrin slams the butt of his staff into the ground. Pale blue runes spiral outward across the cave floor, vanishing into the stone walls like water being absorbed by sand. His eyes flash with silver light as he mutters under his breath. The air trembles faintly.

The smell of damp earth fills the cave. For a heartbeat, there's nothing. Then, the sound outside changes.

The beasts skid to a halt. Their snarls echo, but none cross the threshold. Instead, they begin circling, confused, their cries fading as they scatter into the forest again.

The group stays frozen until the last echo fades.

Finally, Mave exhales shakily, wiping blood from his chin. "Hells… that actually worked."

Verrin collapses onto a rock, panting. Sweat drips down his temples. "It will… for now. They'll sense the distortion soon if anything stronger comes close."

Bragg lowers his arms, stepping away from the mouth of the cave. "You better tell me that's at least an hour of cover."

Verrin manages a tired grin. "If I were a battle mage, you'd have ten minutes. But I'm a support mage, Bragg. My illusions don't just bend light—they redirect mana perception."

Kyra leans against the wall, catching her breath. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Verrin says between breaths, "to their senses… this cave doesn't exist."

Toren wipes his blade clean and slides it back into its sheath, his expression dark. "We were seconds away from being surrounded—and torn apart."

Bragg cuts in with a shrug. "Yeah, well, it didn't happen. So we deal with what's next." He shoots a glance at Alix. "You're way too calm for someone who almost got eaten."

Alix looks up from the faint shimmer still dancing across his palm—remnants of a small barrier he'd silently cast while they ran. His tone is steady, almost cold.

"I'm used to this kind of situation. That's why."

Bragg huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "You can't be a king if you're used to this kind of situation, haha! So you, Verrin—" he points toward the mage, "—are wrong. He's not a king at all."

Verrin just gives a weak smile, still trying to catch his breath.

Kyra rolls her eyes, still leaning against the wall. "Bragg, how about instead of running your mouth, you think of something that'll actually get us out of this situation?"

Toren sits near the cave entrance, his blade resting across his knees. "This was supposed to be a simple investigation…" he mutters, his voice low and heavy.

Mave lets out a dry, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, looks like the Beast King of the Silent Grove isn't planning a beast tide after all." He gestures toward the cave mouth. "Instead, it's like the beasts are hunting us—like we're the ones who killed their loved ones."