Riven made his choice in the span of a heartbeat. Aron was the core of their defense—without him, Lya would be exposed. And while Elea was skilled, she'd chosen to fight alone. He clenched his jaw, pivoted on his heels, and charged toward Aron, his sword gleaming with lethal purpose as he rushed to join the giant's desperate fight against the four-armed creatures.

  His legs pushed off the forest floor with Koras-enhanced strength, closing the distance in three powerful strides. The closest monster was fully focused on Aron, its back exposed as it prepared to leap at the giant's blind spot.

  Riven drove his blade directly into the back of the creature's skull, the point piercing bone and brain matter in one clean thrust. The monster went instantly limp, dead before it even began to fall. He yanked his sword free with a wet, sucking sound, dark blood spattering across the crimson leaves below.

  The remaining three creatures noticed him immediately. Their heads swiveled in unison, eyes widening in what might have been surprise. Two of them chattered in high-pitched tones, a series of clicks that sounded almost like communication.

  Then, as if responding to an unspoken command, they attempted to retreat upward, four-limbed bodies scrambling toward the relative safety of the overhead branches.

  But Aron was faster than he looked. The giant's hand shot out, massive fingers wrapping around one creature's ankle as it leapt away. The monster screeched, clawing desperately at the air with its remaining limbs. Aron's grip tightened visibly, his knuckles whitening with the force of his squeeze.

  A sharp crack cut through the chaos—the sound of bone splintering under pressure. The creature's foot twisted at an unnatural angle, and its screech transformed into a howl of agony. Aron slammed it to the ground, pinning its struggling body beneath his boot with casual strength. The weight of his massive frame pressed down, leaving the creature writhing uselessly against the forest floor.

  Riven was already moving again, tracking one of the retreating monsters with his Spatial Eyes. This time, he didn't focus on the creature itself but on the pattern of its movement—the arcing trajectory as it swung from branch to branch, the predictable rhythm of its escape.

  There. The next branch.

  Riven's blade sliced through the air in a precise arc, intercepting the space just as the creature swung into it. Steel met flesh and bone, severing two of the creature's hands at the wrist. Without its grip, it crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, dark blood pulsing from the stumps of its severed appendages.

  Riven followed through with a downward strike, ending its misery with a clean blow to the throat.

  Golden vapor rose from the giant's skin like steam off hot metal, small droplets of sweat beading on his forehead despite the relative coolness of the forest.

  Aron turned to him, golden eyes bright with the rush of combat. He nodded once, a gesture that managed to convey both gratitude and acknowledgment. "Thanks," he said, voice steady despite the exertion. "I'll finish this one." He nodded toward the retreating creature.

  Riven returned the nod, then turned away.

  His thoughts immediately shifted back to Elea and the six—no, seven monsters that had surrounded her. His fingers tightened around his sword hilt, a sense of dread building in his chest. She'd been slowing when he last saw her. By now, they would have overwhelmed her completely.

  His eyes sought her across the battlefield, expecting to find her fallen, or at best, desperately fighting a losing battle.

  Instead, what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

  Elea stood in a slight crouch, her posture lowered as if conserving energy. The seven creatures circled her, moving with the coordinated precision of pack hunters. For a moment, they all paused, as if gathering themselves for one final, synchronized attack.

  Then they leapt, seven bodies converging on her from all directions simultaneously.

  She hadn't moved. Hadn't raised her guard. Hadn't shown any sign she was even aware of the imminent attack.

  Then she moved.

  The stillness exploded into a blur of silver and glacial blue. Her blade swept in one continuous, flowing arc—three strikes so seamlessly connected they seemed like a single motion. Three heads separated from shoulders in perfect succession, each cut flowing directly into the next with surgical precision. All from her right hand wielding that strange ice-blue sword.

  At the exact same moment, the ground to her left erupted. Massive spikes of pale blue ice shot upward, impaling three creatures mid-leap. The crystalline structures punched through torsos and limbs, suspending the monsters in the air on frozen pillars.

  The seventh creature, somehow untouched by either blade or ice, lunged at her exposed back.

  Without turning, Elea's left hand flicked outward. A jagged crystal of glacial ice formed in her palm and launched. The shard struck directly between the creature's eyes, shattering on impact. It dropped instantly, skull collapsed inward.

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  Seven monsters. Dead. In less than two seconds.

  Riven stood frozen, his sword hanging forgotten at his side. His mind struggled to process what he'd just witnessed. Not just the speed—though that alone was shocking—but the precision, the calculation. It hadn't been frantic desperation. Every movement had been perfectly coordinated, perfectly executed, as if she'd choreographed the entire sequence in advance.

  She'd never been in danger. Not for a moment.

  What he'd perceived as fatigue had been something else entirely—patience, perhaps. Or maybe she'd been preparing, gathering her power for that devastating display.

  A cold feeling settled in Riven's stomach, working its way up his spine like frost climbing a window pane. He'd been worried about her dying, about having to face those monsters himself if she fell.

  But now he wondered: Which was the greater threat—the monsters or the woman who'd just annihilated them with such terrifying efficiency?

  A single thought crystallized in his mind as he stared at her standing amid the carnage, surrounded by corpses and pillars of ice:

  Who the hell is she?

  His Spatial Eyes pulsed a warning. Something new entered the edge of his perception—not single creatures, but a group, moving with purpose through the forest. Among them, a presence that felt heavier, larger than the rest. His stomach dropped. Whatever had just killed, more were coming—and something worse was with them.

  He couldn't make out details yet, but their approach was unmistakable—branches swaying with their passage, the faint sound of claws scraping against bark. They were moving fast, drawn perhaps by the sounds of combat or the scent of their fallen kin's blood.

  Riven spun toward Aron and Lya, who still stood several meters away. "Get out of here," he called, voice tight with urgency. When they hesitated, confusion evident on their faces, he barked: "Now! Hide!"

  The sharpness in his tone spurred them to action. Aron grabbed Lya's arm, pulling her toward a dense thicket of ferns. They disappeared from view within seconds, the giant moving with surprising stealth for his size.

  Riven turned back to Elea, who remained standing amid the carnage of her making. She hadn't moved, seemingly unaware of the approaching danger.

  No time to call out a warning. He sprinted toward her, crossing the distance in three rapid strides.

  But It was a mistake.

  Elea spun toward him with preternatural speed, her blade already in motion. Riven barely registered the flash of ice-blue steel before it stopped—a hair's breadth from his throat. So close he felt the cold emanating from the blade against his skin.

  Her eyes fixed on his, utterly emotionless. Her gaze held the detached calculation of a predator assessing whether something was prey or threat.

  "Are you insane?" he hissed, fighting the instinct to recoil from the blade that could separate his head from his shoulders with the slightest twitch of her wrist. "What's wrong with you?"

  The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring. Then she lowered her blade without explanation or apology.

  Riven's fingers closed around her wrist, his grip firm. "No time for this," he muttered, his Spatial Eyes tracking the approaching threat. "More are coming."

  Together they bolted to the side and dove to the ground, plunging into a dense cluster of massive ferns.

  The enormous fronds—violet and green, each as wide as a shield—closed around them as they pressed themselves flat against the earth. The thick foliage concealed their shapes completely, leaving only narrow spaces between the leaves where they could see back to the carnage they'd just abandoned.

  The creatures arrived in a rush, swarming into the clearing from multiple directions. Same size as the ones they'd fought, unmistakably the same species—ashen grey skin marked with vivid red patterns, four arms, six eyes that scanned the carnage, elongated canines as they chattered and clicked to each other.

  Then the massive one hit the ground.

  It dropped from a branch overhead, hitting the ground with enough force to send small vibrations through the earth beneath them. Larger than the others, nearly Riven's height, its body bulged with muscle that the smaller creatures lacked. Instead of six eyes, it had only four—bright scarlet orbs that swept the clearing with methodical intensity. The red markings on its skin were darker, more pronounced, forming intricate patterns across its chest and limbs.

  Fuck. It's like their father or something.

  The creatures communicated in a series of clicks, taps, and guttural sounds—not random noise, but patterns too structured to be anything but language. The massive one moved among the corpses of the fallen, examining each in turn, its head tilting at the strange ice formations that still hadn't begun to melt.

  Riven turned his head slightly, stealing a glance at Elea. They lay so close he could feel her breath against his face—ragged, labored. For once, her expression wasn't perfectly controlled. Exhaustion leaked through—the slight tension in her jaw, the faint tightness around her eyes—even as she remained locked on the creatures, analyzing.

  the massive beast approached one of the ice pillars, extending a clawed hand toward it. It stopped just short of touching the surface, as if sensing the deadly cold that radiated from the strange material. Its scarlet eyes narrowed, then moved to the impaled corpse. For a moment, the big bastard simply stared, as if committing every detail to memory.

  Then it did something Riven hadn't expected—it reached out and snapped off a small fragment of the ice. The monster studied the shard, turning it over in its palm.

  Finally, it tossed the fragment aside and let out a series of sharp clicks. The other creatures responded immediately, spreading out to examine different parts of the clearing. Some climbed the trees, peering into the surrounding forest. Others sniffed at the ground, following invisible trails of scent.

  They were hunting. Hunting them.

  Riven held his breath. They were hidden only meters away from the creatures. The slightest sound, the smallest movement could give them away. They could fight—he had no doubt about Elea's combat prowess now—but avoiding conflict seemed the wiser choice. At least for the moment.

  Elea turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. Riven blinked, suddenly aware he'd been staring at her. Lost in thought, he hadn't realized how intently he'd been watching. The moment stretched awkwardly between them before—

  The massive one slammed its fist against the ground. The earth vibrated beneath them, snapping both their attention back to the threat. Its eyes burned with what could only be described as rage as it surveyed its fallen kin impaled on spikes of ice.

  It made one final, guttural sound—deeper than the others, almost like a primitive word. The remaining creatures gathered around it, and as one, they began to move away from the clearing.

  Silence fell, broken only by their quiet breathing and the distant sounds of the forest. Riven's heart hammered in his chest, each beat feeling too loud in the stillness. Through his Spatial Eyes, he could still sense the creatures moving away, but they remained within range—close enough to return if given reason.

  Beside him, Elea hadn't moved, her hand gripping her sword hilt, ready to spring into action if necessary.

  Riven realized they were probably fucked now. He didn't speak the monsters' language, but their message had been clear enough.

  They were being hunted.