Exactly thirty minutes after they resumed, the fog began to thicken again.
The ground changed—bloody tracks, torn plants, scattered bones. The air felt heavier.
They were in the habitat of the Bloody Hounds.
Kael's pulse quickened as he gripped his folding scythe tighter, the weapon humming faintly in anticipation.
Gareth raised a hand. "Halt."
The party stopped instantly and everyone crouched low.
Ahead, faint growls echoed through the swirling fog.
"We move in formation," Gareth whispered. "Tomas, shield line. Lira, cover from the back. Varek, hit from the sides. Kael... stay close to Tomas. Cover gaps and don't get greedy."
Kael nodded, he's heart pounding, but his mind remained focused. This was it.
Ten Bloody Hounds burst from the mist, snarling. Packs of lean, red-furred beasts with glowing eyes and fangs stained crimson.
They hunted in coordination, like wolves with sharper teeth and smarter brains.
"Now!" Gareth shouted.
The fight exploded.
Tomas braced himself, earth affinity pulsing through his shield. He stomped the ground, creating a ripple of hardened stone that caught the lead hound mid-leap. Its trajectory faltered just enough for his shield to slam it aside.
"Stone Wall!" Tomas grunted, pushing another back with reinforced defense.
Gareth's greatsword ignited in a burst of crimson flame. "Flame Arc!" he roared, slicing through a hound with a wide, burning sweep. Fire seared through flesh, turning the beast to ash.
Lira stood at the back, wind swirling around her. Her eyes glowed faint green as she loosed arrows with deadly precision.
"Gale Pierce!"
A single arrow split into three mid-air, each tip infused with slicing wind, finding their marks in quick succession.
Varek danced in the shadows, his dagger cloaked in dark mist. "Shadow Fang." He moved like he vanished, only to reappear behind a hound, slitting its throat in one clean move. Another lunged for him, but he melted back into the fog like a ghost.
Kael moved with them, the lone flicker in a storm of power.
His Folding Scythe glowed faintly, but not with elemental might. His potential was a weak one, unstable, soul-based, unable to channel affinity skills like the others.
He was reminded again of the gap. Of the reality that his path would be longer, harder. His cultivation would climb slower, if at all. No flashy powers, no affinity boosts. Only the strength he carved from resolve.
But Kael didn't falter.
He had speed, precision, and knowledge—and the discipline to make them count.
His scythe snapped open with a metallic hiss. A hound aimed for Tomas's exposed flank—Kael slipped in, swift and silent.
"Reaper's Sweep!"
The blade caught low, severing tendons. The hound tumbled, and Kael followed with a clean, cold "Snap Strike" to the throat.
Another hound darted toward Lira. Kael surged forward, thrusting his polearm into its ribs.
"Polearm Thrust!"
The beast staggered back, howling.
Kael flowed through the battle, each step deliberate, each strike rehearsed. He remembered the diagrams, the manuals, the field reports. He knew the Bloody Hounds better than they knew themselves.
"Kid's good," Varek muttered as he carved another shadowy kill.
Even Gareth shot him a quick glance. He's efficient, reliable, and controlled.
One by one, the party dismantled the pack. Sweat beaded Kael's brow, his arms throbbed with effort, but he didn't stop.
Striking, Shifting, and Defending over and over
Lira loosed a final arrow through a hound's eye as Gareth brought his blade down on the last beast.
The fog grew still and they exhaled in relief
The party skillfully harvested the soul beast cores from bloody carcasses, and had Gareth divide the cores amongst the party, each according to their contribution.
After, they moved deeper into the Fogveil Ring. More packs came. More fights and More blood.
Kael pressed on through the fatigue, each swing honed, each breath measured.
Then came the sound.
Low, rising howls. Endless.
The party froze.
From the fog, shadows poured forward. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Bloody Hounds. Not just a pack. A horde.
Their glowing eyes flickered like stars in the mist.
"This can't be," Tomas said, voice barely above a whisper. "They don't hunt like this."
Gareth's expression turned grim. "Monster Tide..."
This was a sign, but in it's early stages.
His words hung heavy.
The last one had razed towns and left a heavy mark in the hearts of humans.
But they didn't have time to think about all that, they had to survive first.
"Defensive formation! Stay together!" Gareth barked.
The party clustered with their backs to one another. Tomas braced attacks and the rest went for the kill, from one bloody hound to the other,
But the horde was relentless.
The group absorbed cores mid-battle, fueling their soul energy to keep up with fight.
With every strike and kill, they got more fatigued.
Their perfect rhythm fractured.
Kael's heart pounded. "This won't hold."
"Spread out!" he shouted, eyes blazing. "Draw them away! Create an exit!"
The others looked instinctively at Gareth, who replied with silent nod, and eyes portraying different emotions
Without waiting, Kael dashed. And took his path. His survival came first.
He had studied the maps and he knew the terrain.
"The rocks... the fissure!"- He analysed
His legs burned trying to move faster, as the Bloody Hounds followed closely.
There—a narrow gap in stone. Just wide enough for him, but able to narrow the hounds coming after him.
Kael dove sideways through the narrow gap, the rock scraped against his skin, bringing with it a wave of pain.
The Hounds slammed into stone behind him, wasting no time as he turned.
And Snap! He's Scythe unfolded.
A hound charged through, but Kael sidestepped, sweeping low.
"Reaper's Sweep!"
Severing the legs and followed with a Snap Strike to the throat.
Another hound leapt towards him, but he was prepared. He ducked and twisted and countered with a "Polearm Thrust"
Blade pierced the ribs of the beast, It's blood spraying and dyeing the stone red.
It was a cramped space, allowing one enemy at a time. But he had to make no room for mistakes.
His muscles screamed and his arms trembled.
But he held on.
Thinking, Watching and Countering.
One misstep meant he's death.
Another hound charged through, and Kael skillfully adjusted, forcing it into a stagger, he followed up with a low spin and thrust to end the beast.
The fight dragged on,
Blood painted the stone and bodies of slain beasts piled.
And soon, there was Silence
Kael was alone, his breath ragged, and his body shaking.
The adrenaline drained and fatigue surged in immediately.
His knees gave out and the cold ground met him.