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A mini-map hovered above Mira, its soft glow reflecting off her glasses. A green ribbon was tied around her forearm, marking her as Team Varro. She turned to the others.
"They're moving," she said, while her dark chestnut ponytail swayed from side to side.
Orio smirked as he played with his long blond hair. He walked over, unhurried, the two swords at his hips swaying with each step.
"Show me."
The projection resolved into five blue dots — Team Varro, clustered tight in formation. Then a sixth blip, smaller, drifting in from the southeast, closing the distance.
"Tracker's still attached," Zirk said, tapping the display like he was proud of it.
Orio walked off. "Get into position. We're starting now."
"What happened to scouting the rest of them?" Mira asked.
"Scouting session's over. I've seen enough." Orio didn't slow down. "The only ones we had no info on were the big guy and their captain. Elara's an assassin from the famous Vesperine family, Zirk's classmates with Veya, and everyone knows who Ember is. There's nothing left to learn. Just people left to beat."
Cynder crossed his arms, hair falling over his eyes. "Why are we doing this again?"
"The more people we have," Orio said, not looking back, "the easier it is to farm."
"Why don't we just ask them?" Mira perked up.
"Where's the fun in that?" Orio flashed a grin over his shoulder. "Legends aren't made by asking nicely."
Cynder glanced past him, toward the rest of the group still watching the dots crawl across the display, oblivious. "You really trust River?"
Orio's smile didn't move. His eyes did.
"This isn't about River." He stepped toward Cynder. "It's about me being number one."
He turned back to the map. The sixth dot kept drifting closer.
— — —
Earlier that morning, the academy's outer steps were still slick with dew.
River stood at the base of them, arms crossed, watching the courtyard fill with students. Orio showed up late, like always, ponytail already perfect despite the hour.
"You're late."
"I'm punctual. You're just early." Orio brushed his blond hair back, giving it one last check like there might be a crowd watching. "Who's the target?"
River nodded toward the courtyard. Landen stood near the edge of the crowd, thumbs hooked under his backpack straps, saying something that made Ember roll her eyes.
Orio laughed, short and disbelieving. "Seriously? That guy? Look at him. You sure you're not wasting my time?"
"Look closer."
"I'm looking. I see a guy who dresses like he lost a bet." Orio spread his hands, already savoring it. "You want me to beat that? I'll finish it in one strike."
River stepped closer, voice dropping. "That guy — is Mifaso."
The smirk dropped off Orio's face. He turned back, one eyebrow up. "Mifaso? The number one ranked on the Underground Leaderboard?" His heart began to race.
"Now that I have your attention." River let the words sit a second. "If you beat him, it proves you're the top freshman captain. Probably the only one who could."
"I beat him — I pass you." Orio's eyes lit up, chest already swelling with the idea of it. "They'll be talking about this for years. Orio Castell, the freshman who took down Mifaso himself."
"Sure." River's tone stayed flat, unbothered. "Whatever helps you sleep tonight."
Orio didn't catch it — too busy picturing the moment already. "What's in it for you, anyway?"
"Nothing. I already know where I stand." River turned to leave. "You're the one who needs to prove something."
River smiled. "Let me know how it goes."
"That's it? No plan, no intel, nothing?" Orio called after him.
River glanced back, the faintest curve to his mouth. "You wanted to be number one. Figure it out."
He walked off, leaving Orio alone at the base of the steps, already rehearsing the speech he'd give after the fight, staring at a boy who had no idea he'd just become someone's target.
— — —
Team Halvek came to a nice opening in the forest. Large area, short grass, a watering hole catching the afternoon light. No beast here yet.
Landen was excited to see what the girls were capable of. He pictured how he could pair each of them with their own uncommon beast, like drafting a roster. He scanned the map, thumb tracing possible routes. Something fast for Elle — test her agility. A flying bird for Veya — see how she handled a moving target at range. And Ember... he frowned. She dealt with flames, that much he knew. But he couldn't picture anything out here giving her trouble. She might just be too strong for the whole map.
Jareth slapped his forehead, his shoulders sinking.
"What's wrong?" Veya asked.
"The bristleback beast core. I forgot to grab it." He dragged a hand down his face. "My first beast core. Gone."
"Common beast cores are practically useless," Elle said, not looking up. "Uncommon could've fetched a fair price, though."
Landen filed that away. Beast cores had value beyond XP, apparently. Worth learning more later.
Veya turned to Jareth. "Maybe we can go back—"
Landen stopped mid-step. Everyone piled into his back, the whole formation crumpling like a rear-ended train. He didn't apologize. He was staring past them.
They followed his eyes and saw it too.
Another group. This far out. Crouched low in the brush at the tree line, dead still, like they'd been waiting. Nobody expected other students out here, not this close to rare territory.
The only girl in the group pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and gave a small, almost polite wave.
Then one of the bigger students rose to his feet, unhurried, and lifted something to his mouth. A horn. Curved, bone-white, carved with symbols Landen didn't recognize. He drew a breath and let out a long, guttural cry — low at first, then rising, then holding.
Landen's vision flickered. A translucent panel unfurled across his sight, edges humming faint blue.
[ System ]⚠ New Ability Detected
Beast Call: Distress
Type: Vocal — Wide-Range Summon
Effect: Emits a resonant frequency mimicking beast distress signals, compelling nearby creatures within audible range to converge on the caller's position.
Range: Unknown — signal strength suggests territory-wide effect
Caster detected: Gragic, Team Varro.
The text hung there a beat longer than usual, like even the System wanted him to sit with it.
Then, smaller, almost an afterthought —
[ System ] Threat classification: escalating.
Alarm bells rang in Landen's mind. A distress call. For beasts. Not a hunting tool — a trap, and they were standing in the middle of where it would land.
"I'd advise you to leave immediately," the System said.
Landen spun around, searching for any threat that could be coming, but there was nothing—just trees.
Team Varro fanned out, hands drifting to weapons. Team Halvek mirrored them without needing to be told.
"What's going on?" Veya whispered.
"Something not good," Elle said.
A few seconds passed. Long enough that Landen almost let himself believe it was over.
Then—
A roar. Distant, held for a long breath, deep enough that Landen felt it in his sternum before he consciously heard it. It rolled out toward the mountains and didn't seem to end.
Then another. Smaller, sharper, from a different direction.
Then more. Overlapping now, scattered across the forest like something had flipped a switch — the whole tree line lighting up with sound.
"I don't like the sound of that," Veya said, voice gone tight.
"Prepare yourself," Landen said, already moving, already thinking in formations. "Circle up. Cover each other's back."
Across the clearing, Orio's grin split wide, one hand resting easy on a sword hilt.
"Hey, Team Halvek." He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for a show. "Get ready to have some fun."
The trees began to shake.
Birds exploded upward in a ragged black cloud, screaming.
Then—
BOOM.
A Bristleback crashed through the tree line, tusks first, throwing splintered wood in its wake.
Then another.
Then another.
Then ten more, pouring out of the forest from every direction, until the clearing wasn't a clearing anymore — it was the center of something.
Everyone realized it at the same moment, the thought landing in five heads at once, cold and certain. They were trapped.
Landen scanned the clearing. Eleven health bars blinked into view in the distance, hovering over shapes still mostly hidden by dust and tree cover.
System, what are we dealing with?
"Scanning." A pause, brief and clinical. "I'm detecting eleven bristleback beasts. All uncommon rarity."
Landen's fist clenched. He remembered the fight with Jareth — one bristleback, and it had nearly taken him apart. Now there were eleven. But there were also ten of them, counting the strangers. Do the math, and that was one beast per person.
The real question was how much help they'd actually get from a team that had ambushed them not five minutes ago.
"This circle's not going to hold against this many," Landen said. "We need ground we can actually defend." Then he saw it. "The watering hole." He pointed. Rock outcropping on one side, water on the other. "Cuts our exposed angles in half. Move — now."
They broke for it as the first bristleback hit full charge, tusks lowered, ground shaking under eight hundred pounds of muscle and bad intentions.
Veya already had her guns up, tracking its front legs. Then someone dropped in beside her, unhurried, like he'd been invited.
"Hi, Veya. Good of you to join us."
"Zirk." She didn't look away from her target. "What are you doing here?"
"Same reason you are." He flashed a grin. "Farming."
A few yards off, Elle's eyes locked onto the far edge of the bank — and the boy already waiting there. Smaller than the others, a scythe resting easy against his shoulder, hair hanging low enough to swallow his eyes.
"Hi. I'm Cynder." A small nod. "I'll be supporting you today."
Elle's gaze narrowed to a blade's edge. "You. Support. Me." She said each word like she was testing its weight. "Fine. Just don't get in my way."
Ember glanced right and found a girl matching her stride, silver-rimmed glasses catching the light. The girl — Mira — gave a small wave.
Then the ground disappeared from under Ember's feet.
A mechanical bird had closed its talons around her shoulders and was hauling her skyward.
"H-hey!" she yelped, kicking at empty air. "Put me down!"
A second bird scooped up Mira right alongside her, lifting them both over the chaos below.
"Relax," Mira called over the wind. "We're headed this way. We're going to need more room for what we're about to do together."
Meanwhile, Jareth had broken into a sprint after Veya, some instinct telling him she'd need a front-liner. He didn't get three steps before something enormous slammed into his side.
He hit the ground rolling, dirt in his mouth, and looked up to find the boy who'd sounded the horn standing over him — easily twice his width, arms like tree trunks.
"You. Stop. Here," the boy grunted. "You. Are. Bait."
Landen watched his entire team scatter in five different directions, each swallowed into a fight that wasn't fully theirs anymore. He turned to follow — and someone stepped directly into his path, cutting him off cold.
"Hey, Mifaso." Orio rolled his shoulders, one hand resting on a sword hilt like he'd been waiting all morning for this. "Where do you think you're headed? You're staying right here. With me."
Did he just call me Mifaso?
Landen almost laughed. Ah. I understand now. One of those guys.
He glanced back at his team one last time — scattered, outnumbered, paired off with strangers who had ambushed them minutes ago. But scattered wasn't the same as helpless. They could handle themselves. They'd have to.
He turned back to see Orio, rolling his neck, already reading the stance, the sword grip, the overconfidence radiating off him like heat.
Landen smiled. "Okay, let's play."
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