Sraptor pushed himself off the ground, still reeling from his fall out of the heavens. Dust and grit clung to his clothes, and the land around him made no sense at all. "Why here, of all places?" he muttered, half angry, half amused. Then he looked closer and saw he was ringed in by shadow beasts. "What happened to this forsaken realm?" A chill went down his spine.
He reached for his deadliest weapon, the death scythe. Blue energy gathered in his palm and stretched into a long azure blade. He gripped it and leveled it at the closing horde. "Time to dance."
Eyes shut, he held the scythe level in front of him. Its light swelled until it filled the space between him and the beasts. Then he slid his hands to the base of the handle and swung: one clean arc of azure light straight through them.
The beasts broke apart into scraps of darkness, their shapes unraveling before the scythe. Sraptor looked over what was left, his eyes cold. "That's handled," he murmured. "Now I need to know what's happened to this land. Sephir's stories didn't come close."
He dissolved into wind and streaked across the ruined country, a ghost with one thought driving him. He meant to learn what the shadows were hiding here. "The first treasure must be close," he whispered into the rush of air.
Meanwhile, at the Shadow Hunters Guild Hall, Razor and Max waited for their meeting with Rize. Everyone in the hall knew about the shadow beast that followed Razor now, and the air was tight with it.
The guild hall was a sprawling, dim structure lit by torches. A massive table filled the center chamber, where every decision that mattered was made. Ancient tomes and old artifacts lined the walls, relics of the guild's long history.
Rize sat at the head of that table. Her dark eyes carried the weight of a hundred battles and every loss that came with them, proof of how completely she had given herself to the cause.
Max went in first to carry the news. He came back a moment later, relieved, and told Razor he could go in and see her.
Razor stepped into the hall and felt the tension close around him. Every eye followed him, or rather followed the shadow beast at his heels. Their fear was plain on their faces.
Rize's face showed the war inside her: loathing for the beasts she had spent her life hunting, and love for the young man who had tamed one. Dark hair framed a face marked by battle, and her armor was scarred from years of fighting the creatures.
"Report," she said.
Razor did not waste the chance. "The cave near the southeast outpost. I went in alone. One of them cornered me, and something changed between us. I don't fully understand it yet, but I can hold it. It answers me. It followed me out of that cave of its own will."
A murmur ran around the table.
"You're asking us to keep a shadow beast in our walls," one of the older hunters said. "We've buried too many for that."
"I'm asking you not to waste what we finally have," Razor said. "Don't kill it. Use it. Let it track its own kind. Let it tear them down from the inside. If I can guide even one, we stop fighting blind."
Rize's jaw tightened. "My first duty is the hunters under this roof. That thing at your heels has killed more of us than any war this kingdom remembers. Keeping it here is not a clever idea. It is a risk with teeth."
"Rize, I know the risks," Razor said. "But this beast could be how we finally wipe them out. I can control it. I can guide it. Let us try."
Her gaze stayed hard, though something flickered behind it. "Razor, you're asking me to gamble the whole guild."
"I know. But I believe in this. I've lost too much to them. This could turn the tide."
"And if you're wrong?" another hunter cut in. "If it turns on us in the night?"
"Then the fault is mine," Razor said. "I will answer for it."
The argument heated up fast. Razor was half a step from walking out when Max raised his voice.
"There's another matter," Max said. "Before anyone decides the beast's fate alone. Jace reported a blue beam in the Southeast—bright enough to see from the tower. Not fire. Not a storm. It came down hard and left a trail. We've never seen anything like it."
Rize's attention sharpened. "When?"
"Last night," Max said. "Jace swears it fell near the southern ruins. The same stretch we've kept sealed."
Silence took the hall. Everyone knew what that meant.
"Say it plainly," Rize told him.
Max glanced at Razor, then back to her. "The south has been off-limits since the last Grade S troop went in and never came back. No outposts. No resupply. Dark as night even at noon. The beasts down there don't wander—they guard. Whatever that beam was, it landed in the one place this guild already fears."
Razor felt the weight of it settle. "Then send me."
Rize studied him for a long moment. The hardness in her face did not leave, but under it something quieter showed through—worry she would not name in front of the table.
"You want to prove that creature is worth the risk," she said. "Fine. Prove it where it matters. Take the beast. Follow the blue trail into the Southeast. Search the area and bring me a report I can trust. If that thing helps you survive what killed a full Grade S troop, we talk again about keeping it. If it doesn't—"
"I understand," Razor said.
"Any hunter who accepts the risk may join him," Rize added, louder, for the room. "No one is ordered south. I will not force another empty seat at this table."
No one spoke up. Relief flickered across Razor's face before he could hide it.
Rize's voice softened only enough for him to hear. "You can still refuse this. Descarith has survived without answers from the south before. I will not thank you for dying to satisfy my curiosity—or yours."
"I'm not refusing," Razor said.
She nodded once, commander again. "Then go prepare. And Razor—come back."
He left with the shadow beast at his heels. The hall stayed quiet until the doors shut behind him.
Max did not follow.
"You're staying?" Rize asked.
"I'm asking permission to go after him," Max said. "He won't take anyone if he can help it. Someone has to watch his back anyway."
Rize almost smiled, and almost looked tired enough to forbid it. "You're as stubborn as he is."
"That's why it works."
She exhaled. "Permission granted. I'll send supplies to the outpost—rations, weapons, fuel for a month. Have his beast carry the cart. And Max... keep him alive. This guild has lost too many already."
"I will," Max said, and only then went after his friend.
Outside, Razor felt the mission settle on his shoulders. Now he had to prove the beast was worth keeping, and he had no clear picture of what waited in the south. His guild was riding on it. Maybe more than his guild. Far across the ruined country, a streak of wind still hunted the same shadows, and none of them yet knew how tightly their paths had already begun to tangle.