The map Ryn spread on the tannery's table was old enough that the ink had faded in places. It didn't matter. The territory they were heading into wasn't on any Guild registry anymore — it had been abandoned years ago after too many high-rank hunts ended with no survivors.
"Here," she said, tapping a point near the top edge. "This ridge runs parallel to the Deadwood Marsh. The Shaper's beasts have been sighted here more than anywhere else. If they've got a base or a shaping ground, it's in that marsh."
Kael traced the path with a finger. "And we take the vial straight into it."
"Exactly," she said. "We keep it covered until we're close, then let it leak just enough to draw them in. They'll come to us."
Kael's mouth curved in a humorless half-smile. "And if they send more than we can handle?"
"Then we make sure they regret it."
They left before dawn, traveling light. The vial was secured in a small, rune-lined satchel strapped to Kael's chest. The runes dulled its glow and muted whatever pulse it sent out — for now.
The city gates were locked to all but Guild patrols this early, but Kael knew a section of the east wall with handholds worn into the stone from years of smugglers. They scaled it in silence, dropping into the mist-soaked grass beyond.
The further they went, the quieter it became. Not the ordinary hush of a hunting zone at dawn — this was different. The air felt thick, like a storm was brewing, and the birdsong faded until there was nothing but the sound of their own boots on damp earth.
By midday, they reached the ridge. From here, Kael could see the Deadwood Marsh sprawled below — a vast expanse of waterlogged ground and skeletal trees. Mist clung to the surface, curling around the rotting trunks like grasping fingers.
Ryn knelt, scanning the treeline. "No sign of patrols."
Kael unfastened the satchel just enough for the vial's faint glow to bleed through. Immediately, the air seemed to shift. The mist stirred, and somewhere far off, a low, resonant sound rolled across the marsh — not quite a roar, not quite a call.
"They felt it," he said quietly.
Ryn nodded. "Then we wait."
They didn't have to wait long.
The first shapes emerged from the mist less than ten minutes later — three beasts, each moving with the unnatural precision Kael had come to recognize. One was low and sinuous, with scales broken by jagged plates of bone. Another moved on too many legs, its segmented body twisting unnaturally as it crawled. The third was massive, horned, and slow, its steps sinking deep into the marsh mud.
"They're scouts," Ryn murmured. "Testing us."
Kael pulled his knife. "Then we send them back with an answer."
The segmented crawler came first, skittering across the ridge faster than something that size should move. Kael stepped into its path, Stonehide flaring as its forelimbs struck. The impact jarred his arms but didn't knock him back. He slashed low, catching a seam between plates, and hot blood sprayed across his hand.
[C-Rank (Low) | GP: 160 + 20 = 180]
The rush sharpened his senses just as the sinuous beast lunged from the side. He rolled under it, stabbing upward into its belly, feeling the blade scrape against something hard before sliding free.
Ryn took the horned brute, firing two bolts in quick succession — one to the eye, one to the softer joint of its front leg. It bellowed, swiping at her with a head toss that gouged a furrow in the ridge's edge. She sidestepped, reloaded, and drove another bolt into its exposed throat.
The crawler was still thrashing when Kael finished it with a thrust to the head. The sinuous beast tried to retreat, but he caught its tail, yanked it off balance, and drove his knife between its skull plates.
The fight ended in less than a minute. Too fast. Too easy.
"They weren't here to win," Kael said.
"They were here to mark us," Ryn replied grimly.
The marsh answered a few minutes later.
Shapes moved in the mist again — more this time. At least six, maybe more, their outlines shifting as they approached. Kael's grip tightened on his knife.
Ryn glanced at him. "We hold here or fall back?"
He looked down at the satchel. The glow was stronger now, the vial almost warm against his chest. "We hold."
The second wave hit harder.
Two winged creatures swooped in from above, one raking at Ryn's position with hooked talons, the other spitting gouts of sizzling green fluid that hissed on contact with the stone. She rolled across the ridge, firing upward, her bolts catching one in the wing joint.
Kael met the ground assault — four beasts this time, each different but all shaped. One had a jagged, armored head like a battering ram. Another's limbs bent the wrong way, giving it a jerky, unpredictable gait.
Stonehide absorbed the first few blows, but he felt each impact like a hammer strike. He slashed, stabbed, and moved constantly, never letting the creatures pin him down.
The fight became a blur — the clang of blade on armor, the wet sound of cuts through flesh, the heat of blood splashing across his hands. The vial's pulse seemed to thrum in time with his heartbeat, each kill feeding an edge of strength into his muscles.
[C-Rank (Low) | GP: 180 + 30 = 210]
[C-Rank (Low) | GP: 210 + 15 = 225]
The last of the winged beasts crashed to the ridge in a spray of black feathers and steaming blood. Kael looked up, chest heaving — and froze.
The mist in the marsh wasn't just moving now. It was rising.
Shapes larger than anything he'd seen before were forming in the haze, their outlines towering over the dead trees. One stepped forward, and the ground shook beneath its weight.
It wasn't just a beast. It was the marsh.
The thing's body was made of mud, root, and bone, its eyes glowing with the same pulse as the vial. Each step tore up chunks of the marsh floor, and as it moved, smaller beasts crawled from its body like parasites.
Ryn's voice was tight. "That's not a scout. That's a shaper-beast."
Kael felt the truth of it. This wasn't a creature shaped by the blood — this was a source. The Shaper was here.
The smaller beasts surged forward, fanning out to encircle them. The giant kept coming, its bulk blotting out more of the sky with each step.
"We can't take it head-on," Ryn said.
Kael's mind raced. The vial's pulse was almost frantic now, as if it were calling to the giant. Maybe it was.
"Cover me," he said.
He pulled the vial free and ripped the cloth away. The glow burst into the open air, casting pale light across the ridge. The giant froze mid-step, its many eyes locking on him. The smaller beasts hesitated, their movements faltering.
Kael stepped forward, holding the vial high. "You want it? Come get it."
The giant roared — a sound that rattled the ridge under their feet — and surged forward. The smaller beasts broke into a charge.
Ryn swore and opened fire, dropping two before they reached her. Kael didn't move until the giant's shadow fell over him.
At the last possible moment, he hurled the vial into the marsh water at the giant's feet. The glass shattered, glowing liquid spilling into the dark water.
The reaction was instant.
The giant staggered, its roar turning into a distorted howl. The glow in its eyes flared, then flickered. The smaller beasts convulsed, some collapsing outright.
But the giant didn't fall.
It turned its head toward Kael — and now the pulse in its eyes matched the beat of his heart.