Lucas held the [Scorch Guild Emblem] in his palm. In his vision, a faint, ethereal map of the Old Quarry overlaid his normal sight. On it, nine pulsing red dots indicated the remaining members of Guild Scorch. Eight were clustered near the main entrance, a chaotic mess of overlapping signals. One, however, was on a long, looping patrol around the quarry's western rim. An outlier. A vulnerability.
The hunt resumed.
Lucas and Kael moved with the patient certainty of predators who knew the terrain better than their prey. Using the emblem's tracker, Lucas remained perfectly out of sight, shadowing the lone Scorch member, a warrior named Borg. His [System Insight] had painted a clear picture: Borg was a player who valued a high vantage point, often lingering near cliff edges. A fatal preference.
The plan was not an assault, but an "accident." Lucas found his spot on a higher ledge overlooking Borg's patrol route, a place where a pile of loose, unstable scree was perched precariously. He sent Kael on a wide flanking path.
When Borg reached the outermost point of his patrol, a narrow ledge overlooking a fifty-foot drop, Kael let out a sharp, echoing howl from the far side of the canyon.
"The hell was that?" Borg muttered, just as Lucas predicted he would. He shuffled to the very edge of the cliff for a better look, his heavy iron boots dislodging a few small pebbles.
That was the only opening Lucas needed. He used his simple staff not as a weapon, but as a lever, pushing it against the base of the scree pile. The unstable rocks gave way, tumbling down the cliff face. It wasn't a landslide, just a shower of stone and gravel. It did negligible damage, but it struck Borg's back with enough force to shatter his balance.
With a cry of shock, he flailed, his arms windmilling uselessly before he toppled over the edge. His scream was cut short by a sickening crunch from below. A moment later, a notification chimed in Lucas's vision.
[Player 'Borg' has been defeated.]
Lucas collected the second emblem and melted back into the shadows. Two down.
The third target, a rogue named Zill, required a different approach. His [System Insight] profile had highlighted a single, exploitable trait: greed. The tracker showed Zill patrolling the dark, narrow tunnels of the quarry's lower levels.
Lucas found a dead-end mine shaft just off Zill's route. He walked to the very back and placed a single item on the ground: the [Guardian's Heart]. The legendary reagent pulsed with a soft, irresistible light, a beacon of immense value in the oppressive darkness. He then signaled Kael to hide in a small alcove deep within the tunnel and positioned himself near the entrance, beside a support beam that was already groaning under the weight of loose rock.
Minutes later, Zill's patrol brought him past the tunnel's mouth. The glow of the legendary item caught his eye. Caution was thrown to the wind. A legendary drop, just sitting there? It had to be a lucky, undiscovered spawn. He sprinted into the tunnel, his eyes locked on the prize.
The moment he was inside, Lucas slammed his staff against the rotting support beam. With a deep groan, the tunnel entrance collapsed, sealing Zill inside in a cloud of dust and absolute darkness.
The rogue panicked, fumbling for a torch, but it was too late. From the shadows behind him came a low growl, followed by the silent, lethal pounce of a predator perfectly at home in the dark.
"Rive!"
The Scorch leader turned, annoyed, to see one of his members running toward him, his face pale. "What is it now?"
"It's Grak... and Borg, and Zill," the player stammered. "They're dead. Their guild markers just went gray. All within the last hour."
Rive's face contorted in anger, not fear. "Dead? Three of them? Useless! They probably got careless and fell into a pit or pulled a mob of Deep Crawlers. This is what I get for recruiting amateurs." He scoffed, dismissing the very idea of a threat. "They're costing me guild respawn fees. Tell the others to stop wandering off and stick together. If they can't handle a few mobs, they're worthless to me."
Lucas now held three [Scorch Guild Emblems]. He watched the red dots on his ethereal map. The lone patrols had stopped. All the remaining members were now clustered together in a tight, fearful knot at the main quarry entrance. They had stopped mining, stopped bullying, stopped everything. They were hiding.
A cold smile touched Lucas's lips. He had disrupted their entire operation without a single direct fight. He had sown fear. He had become a ghost story whispered in the dark corners of their quarry.
They thought numbers would protect them.
"But all you've done," Lucas murmured to the empty air, his gaze fixed on the huddled red dots, "is cage yourselves in."