A tangled mass of blackened vines, still clinging stubbornly to the carcass of the Crestbeak Fowl, plummeted from the grey-stained sky and struck the earth with a wet thud. The impact rippled through the brittle soil, sending a weak tremor underfoot. After the battle, the air was thick with the smell of faint, sickly-sweet taint of corrupted blood.

The creature gave a small, spasmodic jerk of muscle, refusing to admit its own departure. The movements grew weaker with each passing moment until at last the creature lay still.

‘That turned out very well…’

“Pfff, that was easy,” Arlok muttered, his tone carrying the hollow dissatisfaction of a gambler denied the thrill of the final bet. “I didn’t even get to have fun.”

From somewhere off to his left, Shima’s voice cut in, sharp enough to draw blood. “Says the one who got thrown halfway across the clearing before the real fight even started.”

“Hey! That’s because your warning was late,” Arlok shot back.

Before the exchange could sour further, Yerin ended the arguments without needing to raise her voice. “Enough. We need to move now.” Her eyes swept over the clearing. “The noise might draw other things, and we’re not here to bleed mana on anything unnecessary. We still need to refine what’s left before nightfall.”

‘She has a point. Resources spent without purpose only invite problems. Better to conserve now than pay double when night comes.’

‘The last wind spell had eaten through three-quarters of my mana essence… more than I’d intended.’

His core still thrummed faintly in his chest. And there was no sense wasting more on whatever scavengers might be prowling within earshot.

‘I need to work on my Mana Essence...’

When he looked up, Yerin was watching him—her expression was impassive, but somehow edged with a soft glint of approval. “Ruvian, quick thinking back there. It seems you’ve honed your wind craft well enough to bring out that much force in one cast. That was a clean one,” she said, her voice calm.

Ruvian nodded. “I think it is because of our practices back then. It comes in handy.”

Yerin smiled. Then, she looked at the others. “For now, we did well. Let’s extract the shard from it and be gone from here.”

Horren rolled up his sleeves with resignation. The fabric bunching just below his elbows as he stepped closer to the carcass, his boots sinking slightly into the damp soil that had drunk deeply of the creature’s corrupted blood.

Crouching beside the Crestbeak Fowl, he drew his knife—a narrow, utilitarian blade—and stared at the unnatural bulges and ridges, searching for the telltale seam where the shard would lie hidden within.

Ruvian couldn't help but frown a bit as Horren did his job.

‘This looks like rummaging through someone’s garbage. Or maybe worse than a dead body. But, you're doing well, Horren.’

The smell was heavy and oppressive, a clinging mixture of iron-rich rot and that faint, almost sweet undertone unique to Void corruption. As if it had tried to imitate the scent of flowers but had never known what flowers were meant to smell like.

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From a few paces away, Shima’s voice drifted in, casual and amused. “You should see your face right now. You look like you’re about to confess your sins to it.” She said to Horren.

Arlok’s chuckle followed, low and teasing. “No, no… he looks like he was holding up his fart.”

Horren’s shoulders tensed, and without looking up, he muttered, his voice a blend of shyness and stubborn focus. “D-don't. I’m trying my best here.”

A few seconds of silence passed, broken only by the wet sound of blade against flesh, before Shima replied with a faint smile in her tone. “You’re the one who volunteered for this during our planning, remember?”

“Yeah,” Arlok added, “and for what it’s worth… you’re doing fine hahaha.”

Then, the knife met something that was not flesh. Horren’s breath slowed, his gloved fingers tightening around the hilt, and with a care born of both revulsion and anticipation, he reached into the opened cavity. His hand moved past the slick heat of the creature’s insides, and then his fingers closed around something cold and unnaturally smooth.

When he drew his hand back into the grey light, two shards sat in his palm, glistening wet with the remnants of their prison. One was the colour of deep blue lit—Wretched-Rank. It was slightly larger, allowing it to rest comfortably in the hand. The other was smaller by half, a green shard so small that it fit inside a palm—Lesser-Rank.

Horren turned the shards over in his palm, his brow furrowing. “There are… two?” he asked, the words quiet, almost uncertain.

Yerin stepped closer, her gaze sliding from the corpse to the glittering fragments in his hand. “We’re fortunate,” she said calmly. “It seems the Bloodvine hadn’t yet drawn the Lesser-rank shard into itself. Another hour, maybe less, and we’d have left here with only one.”

Arlok studied the crystals, the blue gleam shifting faintly against the green, his tone even, his words clipped into the neat order of a report.

“So, the Wretched-shard is the blue one… and Lesser-shard is the green one.”

Shima tilted her head, the faintest curl of a smile at the edge of her mouth as she counted aloud. “Sixty points for the blue. Ten for the green. That puts us at seventy in total.”

‘That's not a bad start, this should put us slightly higher than the rest in the rank… if I remember it correctly, not many would be able to get 50 points in the morning hours as most squads are being passive.’

‘Well, except for the named characters’ squad. Those guys are an exception… Calyra, Rosalin and Julian should be wrapping up some points on their pace now.’

Ruvian let out a smile a bit. Some sense of nostalgia hit him as he recalled the passage of the novel he used to read.

‘Well, there's no need to worry about them. I need to adapt to this island first. Especially at night.’

“Good, now let's move away from here,” Yerin said.

****

They had moved a bit farther from the battle site, putting distance between themselves and the remains of the Bloodvine Strangler. The air was lighter here, less tainted by the creature’s lingering presence.

Horren pulled out the two shards from his pocket, holding them up so they could all see. Without a word, each of them reached out, placing their hands over it.

As they had agreed before the test—on the ship—all five of them channelled a small thread of mana into their bracelets. Only the Holder would actually store the crystal, but this way, no outside observer would be able to tell who it belonged to, even if they managed to peek at it from a distance.

The moment the transfer was complete, the crystal shimmered briefly, then dispersed into fine particles of light before vanishing entirely.

A beat of silence passed.

Then Arlok huffed. “This still looks ridiculous, can't we change our method? Ugh, we look like a clown.” He flexed his fingers, glancing at the empty air where the crystal had been.

“It's not that bad,” Shima replied.

“What do you mean it's not that bad? Five people standing around, holding a rock together like we’re in some kind of summoning ritual… this doesn't look cool at all.” Arlok laughed as he shook his head. “But oh well, since we will be aggressive later, then I don't mind agreeing to this stuff!”

That earned a few chuckles from the group. Even Ruvian’s lips twitched slightly just for a moment.

Yerin nodded. “Anyway, I think we all forget that… we still need to look for food.”

That earned another round of dry chuckles.

‘Ah shit, yeah, she's right, and it isn't something funny. We really do need to look for food first.’

“We didn't need to worry about it much. I think I found a trace of them.” Horren said calmly after adjusting his bow.

After resting and refining their mana for 15 minutes, they continued to look for another Crestbeak Fowl or maybe something close to it.

After all, food and water were their top priority, as previously discussed on the ship.

PP= 4300

ME= 510