The first contract came three weeks after we returned.
A settlement to the east—smaller than ours, less defended—had been losing people to demon attacks. Not armies. Not invasions. Just... disappearances. Farmers taken from their fields. Hunters vanishing in the night.
They had tried to handle it themselves. Sent their own people to track the demons. Fought back when they could.
Three of their hunters had died.
Now they were asking for help.
The message arrived by runner—a young woman, exhausted, her boots worn through, her face pale.
"Please," she said. "We don't have anyone else."
Ami read the message. Looked at me. "What do you think?"
I looked at the runner. At the fear in her eyes. At the hope she was trying not to show.
"We'll go," I said.
The settlement was called Greyshelf.
It was smaller than our valley. A few dozen cabins. A single well. Fields that stretched to the treeline, where the forest pressed close and dark.
The people gathered as we arrived. Faces we didn't know. Lives we had never seen.
Their leader was an old woman named Elara. Her hair was white, her hands were gnarled, her eyes were sharp.
"You're the sword-breaker," she said.
"I'm a hunter."
She studied me. "You faced an ascendant and lived."
"I faced an ascendant and lost."
"You faced an ascendant and lived." She didn't smile. "That's more than most can say."
We walked the perimeter.
Ami, Corrin, Kael, and me. Four hunters. One party.
The tracks were old—days, maybe weeks. But there were patterns. The demons came from the north, struck at dusk, disappeared before morning.
"Intelligent," Ami said. "Coordinated."
I nodded. "Not random. Not hungry. They're hunting."
"Hunting what?"
I looked at the fields. At the forest. At the mountains beyond.
"Us."
The first night was quiet.
We patrolled the perimeter. Watched the treeline. Waited.
Nothing came.
The second night was quiet.
Nothing came.
The third night—
They came.
Not from the north.
From the east.
A pack of hounds—not the small ones we had faced before. Larger. Darker. Their eyes glowed with an inner fire, their claws left marks in the stone.
Kael fired first.
Two bolts of blue-violet energy lanced into the darkness. A hound fell. Another stumbled.
Then they were among us.
I drew my sword. The crimson veins pulsed. The gem blazed.
The first hound came for my throat. I moved. My blade found its heart.
The second came for my side. I turned. My blade found its neck.
The third came for my legs. I jumped. My blade found its spine.
They kept coming.
Ami was fighting back to back with Corrin.
Her blade was a blur, her movements precise, her breath steady. She had learned. Grown. Changed.
Corrin's shield was new—reinforced, heavier, built for the kind of fight we had survived against the Lifeline. He held the line. Didn't break.
Kael was everywhere.
His pistols fired in rhythm—bolt, bolt, bolt. Each shot found a target. Each target fell. The arcs around his hands were almost gone. The cores pulsed in time with his heart.
He was not aiming.
He was knowing.
The hounds broke.
Not all of them—enough. The survivors fled into the forest, their tails between their legs, their hunger replaced by fear.
I stood among the bodies, breathing hard, my blade dripping.
Ami was beside me. "That was too easy."
I nodded. "It was a test."
"A test?"
"Someone was watching. Learning. Preparing."
She looked at the forest. At the darkness beyond.
"Who?"
I didn't answer.
The people of Greyshelf emerged from their cabins as dawn broke.
They looked at the bodies. At the blood. At us.
Elara walked to the edge of the field. Her sharp eyes surveyed the carnage.
"You killed them," she said.
"We killed some of them."
"Enough?"
I looked at the forest. At the tracks leading away, disappearing into the trees.
"For now."
We stayed another day.
Patrolled the perimeter. Checked for signs of another attack. Found nothing.
The demons had withdrawn.
But they would be back.
They always came back.
Elara found me as the sun set.
"You're not like other hunters," she said.
I looked at her. "No."
"Why?"
I thought about the question. About the tournament. About the ascendant. About the dream.
"Because I've seen things other hunters haven't."
"What things?"
I didn't answer.
She nodded slowly. "You're carrying something. A weight. A secret." She stepped closer. "Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."
I met her eyes.
"I know."
We left Greyshelf the next morning.
The people gathered to see us off. Elara stood at the gate, her sharp eyes watching.
"Come back if you need us," Ami said.
Elara nodded. "We will."
We walked into the forest. The path was familiar now. The trees were the same. The rocks were the same.
But we were different.
Stronger. Harder. More.
The journey back to the valley took two days.
We walked in silence. Each of us thinking. Each of us carrying something.
Ami walked beside me. "The hounds. They were different."
"Larger. Smarter. More organized."
"Someone is leading them."
I nodded. "Someone is testing us."
"Who?"
I thought about Vorthar. About Malagar. About the ascendant who had humbled me.
"I don't know yet."
The valley appeared at dusk.
Smoke rose from the chimneys. Lights flickered in the windows. The sound of children laughing drifted through the trees.
Home.
We walked through the gates. The people greeted us. Smiled. Waved.
They didn't know about the hounds. About the test. About the darkness gathering in the forest.
They didn't need to.
Not yet.
That night, I sat on the roof of the communal hall.
The stars were bright. The mountains were dark. The valley was quiet.
Ami found me there.
"You're thinking," she said.
"Always."
She sat beside me. "About the hounds?"
"About what comes next."
"The demons?"
"Everything." I looked at her. "The portals. The ascendant. The dream."
She was quiet for a moment. "That's a lot to carry."
"I know."
"But you're not carrying it alone."
I looked at her. At the woman who had followed me from the ruins of Lancet to this valley of survivors.
"No," I said. "I'm not."
We sat in silence, watching the stars.
The world was changing. The portals were spreading. The demons were growing stronger.
But we were growing too.
And when the time came—
We would be ready.