Karl stood before the Sanctuary's control panel, watching its faint green veins flicker like a heartbeat running out of strength.
Beyond the barrier, the forest was quiet—too quiet.
No whisper of wind in the branches. No distant growl from the wolf packs. Not even the chirp of night insects.
His Herbal Resonance stretched outward but touched nothing alive. No danger, yet the emptiness itself felt wrong, like the silence before a storm.
He rested a hand on the cool edge of the panel, then looked to Ember. She perched on his shoulder, feathers silvered by moonlight, her body tense, eyes sharp.
"Ember," Karl murmured, his voice calm, almost coaxing, "take a look outside. Just a quick circle around the barrier."
The little hawk tilted her head, gave a soft chirp, and unfurled her wings. They caught the moonlight as she leapt into the night sky, vanishing into the darkness beyond.
Karl exhaled slowly. Each minute felt longer than the last as he waited, listening, imagining shapes moving in the shadows.
When Ember finally returned, she came fast—too fast—her wings beating hard, voice breaking into a sharp screech as she landed. Her amber eyes locked on him, wide and alarmed.
Through Thorn's bond, Karl felt the weight of her discovery.
A Razorhide Bear. Half a mile west.
Its spines glittered like blades in the moonlight, bone plates ridging its hide. Even at a distance, its vitality pressed against Ember's senses—stronger than her, close to his own. A single beast, but a dangerous one.
Karl's hand tightened on his spear. They could take it. Maybe. Thorn was one crystal away from his next advancement, Ember's flight gave them an edge, and Karl himself was not weak. Yet the thought of facing that towering bulk in the dark made his chest tighten.
He drew out Mira's poison paste and smeared it carefully along the blade. The black sheen shimmered faintly, promising to slow even a monster like that.
He turned at last to his companions. His voice was steady, though quieter than usual.
Thorn, Ember—we'll hunt the bear. Grok, shield me if it charges.
Renn, stay back—guard our rear.
"Lysa, Mira," Karl said firmly, "stay in the control panel. Keep constant watch—write down any movement near the base."
Both women nodded. Grok and Renn tightened their grips, their traps almost ready, while Lysa and Mira began preparing to defend the base.
Karl signaled, and the hunting party moved west. Thorn padded silently at his side, Grok's shield heavy on his arm, and Ember circling above with Storm Sense sweeping the air.
They reached the spot where Ember had seen the bear. But it was empty.
The group slowed, wary. Four long minutes passed as Ember swept the forest from above, her sharp cries replaced with a low, urgent chirr. She dipped lower, finally landing on Karl's shoulder, feathers quivering as she nudged him onward.
They followed her lead, weaving between thick trees. Each step pressed heavier against the silence, Karl's grip tightening on his spear. He couldn't shake the thought—if this beast is stronger than we expect, will Thorn's growth be worth the risk?
The forest broke open into a wide, rocky clearing.
The smell hit them first—blood, sharp and coppery.
At the center, over the limp body of a freshly killed boar, stood the beast.
Karl froze. His breath caught in his throat.
It was enormous—easily over three meters, even hunched. Its body looked half-wild, half-armored, covered not just in tangled fur but with jagged spikes and bony plates jutting from its back and shoulders. In the gaps between, filthy clumps of coarse hair clung to its hide, making it look more monstrous than natural.
Its face was worse. A bear's muzzle stretched too long, twisted into something cruel, with fangs that jutted past its lips. Saliva dripped from its jaws as it tore at the boar's flesh.
When it shifted, the spines on its back scraped together with a sound like grinding knives.
Then its head lifted.
Two burning eyes—red and orange, like fire trapped in glass—locked onto Karl's.
His chest tightened. Confidence wavered. For the first time, he wondered if he had led them into something they weren't ready to face.
The Razorhide Bear was tearing into the boar when a faint rustle caught its ear. Its massive head lifted, jaws dripping with blood.
That was when Thorn struck first. His vines lashed out, twisting like whips, snapping tight around the bear's legs.
The Razorhide Bear roared, the sound like thunder rolling through the forest. Its back quills flared, a wall of black blades bristling in warning. Yet it didn't shield itself. It didn't need to. Its sheer confidence radiated in every movement—like nothing here could truly hurt it.
It reared, towering even higher, ready to slam down with crushing force.
That was when Ember descended. She dove like a streak of silver, wings slicing the air, and loosed a Wind Slash. The razor current carved across the beast's flank, spraying blood into the night.
The bear staggered for a heartbeat. Thorn's vines seized that single chance, coiling tighter, binding thick limbs and dragging against its massive weight.
Karl charged in. His spear found the opening, piercing deep into the beast's shoulder. The poison paste shimmered black as it seeped into flesh. For an instant, Karl thought—yes, this will work.
But the hope died quickly.
The Razorhide Bear's eyes burned brighter, its chest swelling as if it drank in its own rage. Muscles bulged, veins pulsed and beast started attacking in frenzy.
With a violent shudder, its back quills detonated outward. Thorn's vines shredded in an instant, and a storm of jagged spines filled the clearing.
Karl twisted, but too late. One spine ripped across his arm, cutting deep. Hot blood spilled down his sleeve. His vision blurred for a moment as pain burned like fire through his nerves.
He staggered but refused to fall, forcing himself to plant his feet.
The bear turned, looming over him, its breath hot and foul. Claws rose, curved like scythes, ready to tear him apart.
And then—
CLANG!
A shield slammed between them.
Grok roared, his massive frame braced against the impact. The beast's strike crashed down with a force that rattled the earth, sparks flying as claw met steel. The ground shook under Grok's boots, but he held. Muscles bunched, tendons strained, every inch of him pushing back against the impossible weight.
For a heartbeat, man and monster locked in a contest of raw strength.
The bear snarled, spines rattling as it pressed harder, its claws screeching against Grok's shield. Sparks danced in the dark as steel scraped bone.
That was when Ember struck. From above she plummeted like a streak of green light, wings flaring wide. A Wind Slash ripped through the night, carving across the bear's face. Blood sprayed as the monster jerked aside with a furious bellow.
Thorn seized the opening. His vines burst from the earth again, thicker and barbed, wrapping around the beast's hind legs. They dug deep into its hide, pulling with all their might, anchoring the monster against the ground.
The clearing shook with the struggle. Grok's shield groaned under the bear's weight. Ember's slicing winds cut again and again, feathers flashing in the moonlight. Thorn's vines strained, creaking like ropes about to snap.
Then suddenly. Its movements which was brutal and lightning-fast, began to falter. The poison Karl had driven into its shoulder was spreading, seeping through its veins.
Its legs trembled as Thorn's vines tightened, holding it in place. Grok pressed forward with his shield, forcing the beast back step by step, while Ember's slicing winds kept tearing into its flank.
The monster staggered. Its swings grew slower, the terrifying speed fading into heavy, dragging strikes. Even the rattling of its spines lost their sharp snap, clattering weakly against its armored back.
Karl wiped the blood from his arm, forcing the pain down. His grip tightened on the spear and charged without hesitation.
he drove the weapon straight into the Razorhide Bear's chest. The poisoned tip rammed deep into the Razorhide Bear's chest, crunching through bone, burying itself into flesh.
The beast reared with one last roar, a sound that shook the trees and made the very stones of the clearing tremble. Then its strength broke. Its quills sagged. Its legs gave out. With a final shudder, the massive body toppled onto the rocks, the ground quaking under its fall.
Karl pulled his spear free, the tip dripping with dark blood. His chest heaved, sweat and pain mingling, but his eyes never left the corpse. He waited, spear ready, until the last twitch of life drained from the beast.
Only then did he lower the weapon.
Grok let out a ragged breath, lowering his shield. His arms trembled as he staggered back a step.
"By the ancestors…" he muttered, staring at the hulking corpse. "I thought that thing would tear us apart."