The canyon stretched before us, sun high overhead, baking the cracked stone. Shadows dragged behind our feet like trailing ghosts. Survivors moved with slow, uneven steps, bodies bowed under exhaustion. Hawks circled above, silent witnesses to the march, their sharp cries echoing between cliffs. Every ridge felt like a trap; every bend a potential grave.
Older Law remembers:
We thought he'd left us broken on the stones. We should've known better. Hunters never stop once they've found a trail.
Nysera crouched low, nose to the dust. Wolf-aura flickered faintly around her, ears twitching.
"…Tracks. Heavy. More than one," she murmured, teeth bared.
Zero's hand hovered over his blade, eyes scanning every shadowed crease in the canyon walls with precise calculation.
"He didn't return alone," he said, flat as stone.
I tightened my scarf, jaw clenching.
"Good. Then this ends here."
Laura stayed close to the survivors, pendant trembling faintly at her throat. The clock is already ticking.
The canyon remained unnervingly silent for a heartbeat longer. Then it erupted.
Rocks toppled from above—a void-forged net slammed down. Survivors screamed, scattering for cover. Dust erupted like smoke, stinging eyes and throat.
From the shadows, Viktor stepped forward, axe sparking with shard-energy. Beside him, two more Hunters emerged: one wielding shard-thread whips, the other armored in shard-plated gauntlets.
"Three of them—!" a villager shouted, voice cracking with fear.
Viktor's scarred face caught the sun. He grinned.
"Five shards… five fortunes. The Mirror will drown me in silver."
He raised his axe, eyes glinting like polished glass.
"Kill the villagers. The brats we take alive."
Nysera didn't hesitate. She lunged, wolf-snarl tearing the air, claws flashing golden fire as they met the whip-Hunter. Sparks exploded, bouncing off shard-thread, twisting light across stone.
Liora's shield rang against the gauntlet-Hunter's strike, golden threads flaring to absorb impact. Her body tensed, muscles straining as she kept the barrier steady for the scattered villagers.
I split into echoes, trying to flank Viktor. He swung his axe in deadly arcs, shattering three afterimages at once.
"Still just shadows, boy," he sneered.
Zero vanished into void-flickers, knives finding weak points silently, slicing along armor joints. The gauntlet-Hunter hissed as one knife grazed his arm, sparks flying.
Laura planted her feet, hands outstretched, rings of golden-blue spinning in her eyes. Time rippled. Stones froze midair, suspended like a breath held by the world, giving the survivors a chance to scramble for safety.
I can't hold this long… she thought.
Nysera leapt at the whip-Hunter, spectral form blazing like a living inferno. Her claws raked across his chest, drawing bright arcs of light through the air. He lashed back, shards whipping like snakes, striking her across the back. Blood sprayed, hissing where it met the dust.
Liora staggered as the gauntlet-Hunter slammed her shield, cracks spider-webbing across its surface. She gritted her teeth and spun, threads snaking from her hands, wrapping around the enemy's legs, holding him long enough for Nysera to crush him under her wolf-form.
I charged Viktor again. Scarf flaring faintly, echoes darting like swarms around him.
"You… knew Eldric. Tell me—"
Viktor spat blood, sneering.
"He begged before he burned."
Rage roared through me. My echoes multiplied, a storm of mirrored selves striking him from every angle. Sparks of shard-energy lit the canyon walls, stone shivering with every impact. Viktor staggered but didn't fall.
Zero collapsed a void barrier, trapping the whip-Hunter against canyon stone. Nysera and Liora worked in tandem, weaving light and strength into precise, deadly strikes. Laura's eyes flared; time bent again. Boulders froze mid-fall, embers drifted through the air like snow, giving us space to regroup.
"Now! Move!" Laura shouted, voice trembling.
We converged in a chaotic, synchronized strike. Echoes, claws, knives, threads, and light collided into the three Hunters. They slammed into canyon walls, weapons scattering across jagged stones.
Viktor struggled to rise, shard-eye cracked, blood running down his face. His gaze was fixed on me, undiminished.
"Eldric's brat… I'll have your scarf, sooner or later," he hissed.
Then, like shadows melting into stone, the Hunters vanished into the canyon. Retreat.
The survivors huddled together, trembling. Fear hung in the air thicker than dust. Some whispered prayers. Some stared, silent, at the space Viktor had left behind.
I gripped my scarf tightly, echoes flickering with quiet rage.
Older Law remembers:
That day, I learned something worse than fear. I learned hatred.
The canyon remained silent. Viktor's shadow still lingered somewhere beyond stone and dust. The Path was moving us forward—and it would not let us rest.
I looked at my companions—Nysera breathing hard, claws glinting, Liora's threads still humming faintly, Zero calm but ready, Laura trembling but steady. We had survived, yes—but the lessons were clear. A Hunter's hatred could not be outrun. And we were far from ready.