The path into the Ironfang Mountains was less a road and more a suggestion. It snaked through ancient, gnarled trees whose branches clawed at the sky, and the air grew thin and sharp with the metallic tang of iron-rich rock.
The cheerful bustle of Havencrest felt a world away, replaced by an unnerving, watchful silence.
Rylan, true to his word, took the lead. He moved with a liquid grace that was mesmerizing to watch, his custom leather armor making no sound.
He was the very picture of a confident A-ranker in his element, pointing out old monster tracks and explaining the region's unique flora with an easy charm clearly meant for Elara.
"The iron in the soil here disrupts most elemental magic," he explained, effortlessly slicing through a thick, thorny vine that blocked their path. "Makes it a haven for physical beasts, like our Rift-Stalker. Good thing your Light is divine in nature, Elara. It shouldn't be affected."
"I am aware of the region's properties," Elara replied coolly, though Zane could see she was subtly impressed by Rylan's knowledge. He was a familiar landmark in her shifting world, a comforting presence.
Zane, meanwhile, trudged along at the rear, fulfilling his self-proclaimed role of 'bag-carrier' with an almost artistic commitment.
He stumbled over roots. He got tangled in low-hanging branches. He breathed just a little too heavily.
Every action was a brushstroke in his masterpiece of mediocrity.
But beneath the performance, he was a predator in his own right, his senses stretched taut. He wasn't watching the path; he was watching Rylan.
He watched the way Rylan's hand would casually drift towards the paired daggers at his belt whenever Zane stumbled too close. He saw the fleeting, almost invisible glances Rylan would cast back, checking his position, mapping his every move.
Rylan wasn't just leading a hunt. He was controlling a kill zone.
"So, Zane," Rylan called back, his tone light and conversational. "Elara tells me you were instrumental in the Ashen Crypt. Quite a feat for an F-rank. Must have been a lot of luck involved."
The question was a baited hook, cast with practiced ease.
"I mostly just tried not to die," Zane replied, his voice muffled as he pretended to struggle with his pack. "Herald Elara did all the work. I just... kicked a rock at the right time."
Rylan chuckled. "Kicked a rock? I love it. See, Elara? Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best. We elites can overthink things." He winked at her.
Elara did not return the smile. Her eyes, narrowed in thought, flickered between the two men.
The official report on the Ashen Crypt had been vague, crediting her for the clearance but noting an 'environmental anomaly' had aided in the process.
Zane's story matched, yet the calm confidence he'd displayed at the Guild contradicted the bumbling fool he was pretending to be now.
The pieces didn't fit. Her internal war between principle and reality was now a three-front conflict, with Rylan representing the 'normal' she used to know.
AURA's voice was a steady, emotionless hum in his mind.
[Analysis: Rylan has attempted to probe your mana signature seventeen times in the last hour. Each attempt has been nullified by [Veil of the Void]. He is growing impatient. Probability of a staged 'accident' within the next three hours: 48% and rising.]
They stopped for a short rest by a fast-flowing creek.
The water was so clear it was almost invisible, rushing over a bed of dark, iron-streaked stones.
Rylan produced a water skin. "Here, Elara. Stay hydrated." He then turned to Zane. "You should refill as well. We're climbing higher, the air will only get thinner."
Zane nodded, kneeling by the creek. As he dipped his own water skin into the current, he saw it.
A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the water just downstream from where Rylan had been standing. It was the residue of a tasteless, fast-acting paralytic agent. A classic Concordance tool. It wouldn't kill, but it would render an F-rank completely helpless. The Rift-Stalker would then have a very easy meal.
It was sloppy. Rylan was getting desperate.
Zane filled his water skin, the contaminated water swirling inside. He stood up, meeting Rylan's expectant gaze.
For a split second, a different Zane looked out from behind his eyes—a being of immense age and power, a king looking at an insect. The shift was so subtle, so brief, that Rylan might have mistaken it for a trick of the light.
Then the F-rank was back. Zane gave a weak, appreciative smile. "Thanks. Good looking out."
He lifted the water skin to his lips.
Elara, who had been watching the exchange, suddenly spoke up. "Wait."
Both men turned to her.
"The water here is too high in mineral content," she said, her voice firm. It was a flimsy excuse, but her eyes were locked on Zane. "It can cause cramps. We should use a purification tablet first."
She reached into her pouch, producing a small, glowing pellet.
She wasn't sure why she'd said it. It was a feeling, a sudden, sharp spike of distrust aimed at the perfectly logical Rylan. A protective instinct she couldn't explain. She saw Zane about to drink and her gut screamed no.
Rylan's smile didn't falter, but a dangerous coldness entered his eyes. His plan had been thwarted. And worse, Elara was the one who had done it. She was protecting the anomaly.
Zane lowered the water skin, feigning a look of mild confusion. He glanced at Rylan, then at Elara's outstretched hand with the glowing tablet.
"Oh," he said, his voice the epitome of innocence. "Okay. Thanks, Herald."
He took the tablet, his fingers brushing hers. It was a simple, meaningless touch.
But in that moment, the entire dynamic of the hunt had shifted. It was no longer two A-rankers and their F-rank baggage.
It was two players and a Herald, and the Herald had just chosen a side, whether she knew it or not.