It was a fifth-rank beast—the Fang-toothed Earth Tiger. Its hide was rough and brown, armored with stone-like plates, its massive frame nearly twice the size of a normal tiger. Long fangs jutted downward, gleaming with lethal promise.
Everyone prepared themselves for battle. Yet Gamble felt a strange unease. Fang-toothed Tigers were never solitary; they moved in packs. If one was alone, it meant only one thing—it had mutated, feeding on its own kind.
"Deal with it yourselves," Gamble ordered coolly. "Show me what you can do."
The group turned toward him. Harris barely paid attention; he had wanted a fight of his own. Noel, however, shifted uneasily, while Cable clicked his tongue in frustration. Earth, after all, was the natural counter to lightning. With the beast cloaked in earth mana, its rocky armor would make things even more difficult for him.
Harris was the first to move. He surged forward, pressing his palms together, leaving a narrow opening between his fingers like a barrel. Fire mana spun inside his hands before bursting forth—a concentrated blast, sharp and devastating, screaming toward its target.
The tiger responded by conjuring a barrier of stone fangs that jutted upward to shield itself. Noel's eyes widened at the sheer force behind her brother's strike—and at how easily it was defended against. Determined, she imitated his technique, though her flames were weaker. Together, their attacks crashed against the earthen wall, heat flooding the air, yet the barrier held firm.
Cable stepped in, sparks dancing across his fingertips before erupting into a lash of lightning. His strike cracked like a whip, hammering against the stone. Finally, under their combined effort, the barrier shattered. Their attacks slammed into the beast, scorching its face and forcing a roar of pain that echoed through the forest.
Enraged, the tiger lashed its massive tail. Stone fangs sprouted along it before launching in a deadly volley. Shards tore through the air. Cable countered one with an explosive burst of lightning. Harris sidestepped another with ease. But when he saw one screaming toward Noel, he knew she wouldn't evade it in time.
With a snap of his wrist, Harris conjured a blazing wall of fire in front of her, shattering the incoming fang. Then, flames burst beneath his feet, propelling him like a fiery jet toward the beast's head.
He struck from above, landing upside down with crushing force, his hand clamping down on the tiger's skull. Fire roared from his palms, searing through flesh and bone. In moments, blood boiled from every orifice as its head seemed to melt from within. The Fang-toothed Earth Tiger collapsed lifelessly.
They had won—but it was Harris's victory alone.
He straightened, laughing. "What an effort… from all of you," he mocked lightly.
Cable scowled, Noel merely watching him in silence before speaking softly:
"Thank you… for protecting me, brother."
Harris glanced at her, a brief smile tugging at his lips. "No thanks needed. It's my duty."
Gamble stepped forward at last, his expression one of mild approval. "Well done. Especially you, Harris. I didn't expect such skill from you."
Cable clenched his fists, bitterness flaring. "I could've done the same if it wasn't a stone-type beast."
Harris smirked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You haven't seen anything yet."
The tension crackled, ready to explode, until Noel broke in: "What about the wagon? How do we fix it?"
The cart had been shattered to pieces, barely recognizable. Both Harris and Cable shifted their attention reluctantly.
Cable muttered, "How are we supposed to repair this…" though he already knew he could build another.
Harris ignored the problem entirely. Instead, he knelt beside the beast's corpse, prying out its mana core—a fifth-rank stone core. Useless to him, a fire user, but invaluable to Gamble. Even so, Harris slipped it into his pocket with no intention of handing it over.
"We move," Gamble ordered briskly. "I won't waste time here. There are things I must attend to." Stroking his chin, he added, "Come on, quickly." Without another word, he sprinted forward, the others forced to follow.
Elsewhere, Julian continued running, having discovered the wagon's tracks. His relentless pursuit carried him along their trail without pause.
And far away, in the vast desert, Mondrik calmly stretched his muscles—preparing for whatever came next.
Julian pressed forward, following the deep ruts of the wagon wheels etched into the dirt. The trail was clear, almost too clear, as if it had been carved deliberately to lure him onward. The wind howled against his ears, carrying with it faint echoes—low growls, distant roars—though he could not tell if they were real or figments of his weary mind.
The forest around him began to shift. The trees grew denser, their branches twisted like claws reaching down to seize intruders. A murder of crows took flight all at once, their cries sharp and grating, as if warning him to turn back.
His mana was running low, every breath a struggle, yet he forced his body onward. At one point, he knelt and touched the wagon tracks, noticing fresh claw marks gouged across them. Something massive had passed this way, its prints half-buried in the dirt, following the same path as Gamble's group.
Julian straightened, his heartbeat quickening. He whispered to himself, "So… I'm not the only one hunting them."
Above him, storm clouds gathered unnaturally fast, the sky dimming though it was still early in the day. A heavy stillness blanketed the air—the kind that always came before disaster.
And yet, despite every warning around him, Julian's eyes burned with resolve. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade and continued west, every step carrying him closer to the unknown.