~this chapter contains more graphic detailing of gore, you have been warned~

Inside the low, flat metal jeep that Joran and Hando found themselves rocking about in, they were accompanied by a few other members of the Warding Blooudhound Clan. One of which, was Brandy, a medium, toned woman whose red eyes pierced Joran when they first met directly in the bunker. She seemed nonchalant at first, but when the team was sent out to meet the trio, she was crisp and sharp. Joran's back went stiff like a board as she barked orders that weren't even to him.

Opposite the seat that Joran was in, were two other members, clad in grey, light leather-like armor that Joran frankly didn't recognize but also adorned. One had been non-stop staring the entire time behind Joran at the driver seat. Which wouldn't have weirded Joran out if she weren't completely void of emotions, almost exactly like how Reigan was when Joran first knelt before him in the Throne Hall. As far as Joran understood, her name was Hallson, and came from within the Crown City Precinct's team, she had a small physique, grey eyes and short light brown hair that frizzled slightly at the ends.

The other individual however…

Joran fidgeted, trying to get as comfortable as he could within the seat he sat in. He could only feel himself get flustered every time he'd managed to work up any iota of an attempt to talk to the tall, lean man next to Hallson. His physique resembled Drekor in a lot of ways, except he had been absolutely quiet since they had gotten into the jeep. His introduction was the reason for Joran's discomfort.

"My name is Joseph Jura. I'm a cousin of Liam Heca."

Why did he have to be so curt…? Joran thought to himself as he lamented.

Finally, the stale air moved as Joseph's, harsh, crisp voice hit against it, "If you need to say something, you should just say it, Joker."

Joran's voice snagged in his throat, stammering slightly before being able to calm down, "A-ah… I wanted to um… See how you've been dealing with the news?"

"The news of what? The Invasion? I managed to get some sleep despite the news, but it does suck."

"N… I mean technically, yes? But no, I meant about Liam."

"Hmm, so that's what you've been trying to stammer out for the last hour?"

Joran sighed in defeat, nodding. Joseph shot a sidelong glance over to Joran, studying his face, and thinking thoughtfully before looking over to Hando, who was on the other side of Joran.

"Listen kid, it happens. I get that he was somewhat of a friend? For you. But you have to let it go. If his family has already come and gone with celebrating his life, you should do the same. Besides," he brandished a sickle in his left hand, letting a finger glide along the blade, "We'll avenge him soon enough."

Joran's heart sank a little bit as he heard the word 'avenge'. The weight of doing it was becoming a reality for him. Did this mean he was going to finally fight Beasts…?

With a shakier voice than he would have liked, Joran affirmed, "Yeah, it's the least I can do to start helping out."

Joran's mind raced with that thought over and over again, but as the landscape of the metropolis of Crown City, and Korhal that they had just visited, began to warp back to the more rural countryside of the fringe cities, as they drove along the road towards Portsmouth that Joran and Hando had taken only a few months ago, he was beginning to become nervous and even moreso anxious.

Sparring and Soma Lum aside, Joran never really had the chance to mentally prepare to fight Beasts. In the very few months he had to cram; it was all knowledge to learn. But finally reaching Portsmouth and the rustic setting surrounding the ensembled squad now, forced him to realize fully that the knowledge he learned was about to become reality.

Hando, who was sitting next to Joran, patted Joran's lap, and smiled, "You know, you seem more nervous now than you did when you faced Jeremiah."

"… You weren't there, how would you know, Hando?" Joran retorted with a frown.

"Hmm… Just a teacher's intuition."

"I thought you were a clerk?"

"I am, but you can't discredit my experience as a teacher, now can you?"

"If I remember right, you became one because you were about to elo-"

"Alright fine, it's your win!"

The duo guffawed, despite the stoic tone that the rest of the jeep held. After they calmed down, Joran looked down at the floor, and sighed.

"Where is she anyways? The Elder's daughter you fancied?"

Hando scratched his chin, and chuckled in defeat, "Well, it seemed being banished the way I did, was enough of a reason for Elene to move on. I can't blame her, though; it's not like every wave of students will produce an Ace, much less one appearing my Class. But Fate brought you and I together, and it was my good fortune all the same."

Joran slouched slightly, embarrassed somewhat, "Fate seems to have an unreasonable amount of work cut out for us, though. You could've probably succeeded and lived peacefully with her. Isn't that something you wish you could do? Maybe she would still be interested in doing that."

Hando shrugged, "Maybe, but then I wouldn't have met you. I wouldn't be able to join you on this adventure. I thought maybe the escapade I had was the highlight of my life, but turns out my life isn't even close to settling down. Right here, right now, I look forward to where we will go. But I'm glad you're loosening up, Joran."

"Are you two done being sentimental?" Before Joran could answer, Joseph interrupted the conversation, pointing outside towards the wall that marked the end of the Terrene Metro, "We're almost to the gates."

The jeep got quiet again, and Joran began to take deep breaths, gripping the Dao next to him in his chair. "It won't be like last time…" Joran thought to himself as he let out his breath, nodding towards Hando, who did the same to Joran.

The gates clanged open, the moaning of gears echoing like bell tolls, and the jeep rolled forward, with the gates slamming shut behind them.

Joran glanced outside to see the couple of guards that stood along the wall at watch, holding a naginata, and a shield and whip, respectively. There were quite a few groups of people that they had passed by that had shields and whips as their weaponry, which Joran could only assume was the staple of the Metal Boulder Sect.

The sun angled low in the sky, there was a slight red glow that painted the road and forest that surrounded them. Aside from the jeep's rumbling, it was eerily quiet. The wildlife that usually accompanied the countryside was absent. It was an all too familiar scene for Joran and Hando alike. At a certain point, Brandy steered the jeep off the road and past the shrubbery that banked it, into the dense trees, navigating slowly, meticulously, as the ride became significantly rockier for the passengers.

At this, Hallson finally snapped out of her blank stare, and began to ready herself. She brandished two sickles, similar to Joseph's, but different in subtle stylistic ways: more angled, almost like daggers that were curved into the form, which grabbed Joran's curiosity.

"So.. Are every Bloodhound member's weapons unique, or?"

Joseph snorted, "What, you expect everything to be perfect and symmetrical? I mean, look at our armor, all different too."

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"What are these made from anyways? I've never seen cows with this kind of leather."

Hallson curtly answered, "Cows don't have scales. Kobolds do."

Hando let out an "ah" in surprise to the answer, sifting somewhat uncomfortably in apparently Beast hide. Joran looked down dumbly, and just blankly blinked at her for a few moments.

"We're dealing with goblins, right? Well, Kobold armor should be what we wear then. Nothing too heavy, but enough to deal with them," Joseph looked down at his sickles and readied himself similarly to Hallson.

Brandy finally spoke up from driving, having been largely quiet the entire drive, "When we stop, I want you all ready and out. Our first task is to find Beasts, and then after we deal with them, let them retreat. And they should lead us directly to where they're coming from. Our second task is to determine exactly that, and is why we're out here. Clear?"

"Yes!" The four in the cabin affirmed, and with that, the jeep grinded down to a halt, the doors slamming open for the ensemble to drop out.

The air was fresh and tranquil, a stark contrast to the tension that was exponentially building up in Joran's mind as he stepped out. The moment he hit the ground, it felt as if a ripple went through his body, a flashback to the bloodcurdling scream Liam let out going off in his head like a siren. Scuffling and reaching for the Dao at his side, he couldn't help but stagger, trying to steady himself on the jeep. Hando grabbed his shoulder and patted him, trying to calm him down.

The red illumination of the trees almost seemed to bleed into his eyes, like blood on the ground, mocking Joran. It was all he could muster to not scream.

"Hey."

Joran's surreal trauma induced hallucination was seemingly snapped in half by the voice that coldly called out to him. By Joseph. Looking at him, Joran could feel the blood that had drained from his face return, and he shook his head, calming down finally.

"I'm…" Joran trailed off as he collected himself, but Joseph just patted his other shoulder.

"It's alright. It's not easy. It never gets easier… We just get used to it." Joseph pulled out his sickles and looked around, starting to walk in a direction before disappearing into the foliage of the forest.

Hando clasped his hand onto Joran's, and spoke quietly, "If you can't handle it, I understand. No one will judge you for-"

"No. No I'm okay. We're going to do this. I'm going to do this." Joran lightly pushed Hando off of him, and looked around, taking in a deep breath, and closing his eyes.

Surrounding him, he could feel the wind bristle, and hear as the leaves ruffled in it. The association he placed on the forest with the threat of death began to disseminate, and he could feel his own heartbeat slow down.

After almost a minute passed, Joran opened his eyes again, and chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Alright. I'm really fine now. I'm sorry for that, Hando."

"Well, I can't exactly do anything, so I'm just glad you're okay."

"An extra pair of eyes is the whole reason you're here, Hando. You're not deadweight."

Laughing at the double meaning, the duo looked around, seeing that the other three had separated out in their own directions, so they took a fourth one. The goal was to find goblins, beat them up, and follow them back to wherever they might be coming from. Covering as much ground as possible was the optimal strategy. Hando was a non-combatant effectively, so he had to be accompanied. Joran planned to go solo and have Hando go use Sacred Sight Arts with one of the others, but since the Bloodhound members already took off, and he couldn't trust himself to not subdue to whatever it was he experienced, the two stayed together.

Walking off to a distance where they couldn't see the jeep clearly through the foliage, their pace slowed down as they began to look around for any traces. Both of their eyes glowing in the familiar golden hue.

Footprints, cracked branches, overturned earth; any of these were suitable things to find. But there was nothing. They even walked around sporadically to cover more ground. Nothing.

They could scream or cause a massive commotion to draw attention, but there's no saying it would bring a few goblins, or an entire group of Beasts, not just goblins. So this was the best route to go.

The sun was beginning to set when they finally came across some tracks, almost highlighted like neon because of their Sight Arts, that were clearly not common wildlife. However, they weren't footprints from mangled toes from a goblin. They were sharper, almost lizard-like.

"Hm, yeah, it's definitely kobolds," After a few seconds of studying, Hando nodded at his conclusion.

"So… Should we turn around, then? We were wanting to find goblins; can I even deal with kobolds?"

"Maybe. They're not really that strong if you can get to them before they use their elements."

"Oh, sure. Lovely."

"We can follow these; they look like they go towards where we saw Joseph headed."

Joran nodded, and they began their new mission, following the tracks, hopefully meeting up with Joseph in the process.

As they methodically tracked their way through the forest, they could hear some chatter from somewhere ahead of them. Eventually, they could tell it was Brandy, and Joseph.

At this, Joran was about to quicken his pace to get closer, however Hando grabbed his arm and shook his head, curiosity piqued, "We're supposed to be all split up. Why are they together?"

"… Maybe the tracks led the same way from her side?"

Hando shook his head, "We went in a direction similar to Joseph, Brandy and Hallson went nearly the opposite direction as us."

Joran just nodded silently, and the duo slowly went into the denser tree line that was near them as they neared the two Bloodhound members. The conversation was muffled, distant. It wasn't apparent what was being said, other than the fact that Joseph was clearly distraught.

By the time Joran and Hando scuffled to the edge of the brushes they had been traversing through, they heard some footfall, with one solid thump onto the ground. They were able to peer out of the brush just in time to see Joseph be squashed by a wooden club held by a pale gray, towering figure that doubled or tripled the size of him. Joseph's body was nearly flattened, and blood oozed out of his orifices. Joran almost immediately vomited from the horrific sight they had just seen. And although he stopped it, the gagging was loud.

The humanoid with a broad, mangled face immediately looked over, and easily spotted the duo in their hiding spot, and began to lumber over. Terror began to bring a tinge of red across Joran's eyes, similar to the vivid hallucinations he had back at the jeep. He looked over at Hando, only to see him frozen in equal awe, equal terror, staring blankly at the orc that had so easily killed Joseph.

Hyperventilating, Joran quickly glanced back and forth from Hando to the orc, and back at Hando, his mind racing, his heart thumping out of his chest and into his neck, the sweat forming on his hands and arm as he fought back tears. He shut his eyes as tight as he could, as he felt the dull thump of footfall get closer and closer. The bloodcurdling scream of Liam that haunted him ever since reverberated in his skull, the blood drenched hue of the forest seemed to seep into his every memory and--

"… H…"

Joran snapped back to reality, looking up at Joseph, where he could have sworn he heard something. And then he saw Joseph twitch an arm, lifting it up, and pointing it at Joran, and then his face that was contorted and bloodied, teeth smashed in, nose bent inhumanly, looked straight at him. There was clearly an immense amount of pain, but still, he had done those two actions.

"… Hey."

Weaker than the first time, yet still just as resolute, it snapped Joran out of his stupor. And he screamed, the blood that pooled under Joseph, the now apparent bodies of kobolds that littered the clearing, and the orc that was nearly upon the duo. The reality slammed into him as hard as getting thrown into a wall. As if glass shattered in his mind, he instantly jumped into action.

Thoughtlessly, he shifted into Sovereign Realm Arts, and unsheathed his Dao, striking across the torso of the unsuspecting orc. As he slid across the clearing closer to Joseph, Joran could feel the blade tear at the orc's skin. But it was a weak, dull thud. Even more so than when he struck Jeremiah.

His heart sank as he realized it was a far more undulated strike than that one, yet it didn't even seem to faze the orc. However, it did pull the orc's attention to the human that nearly instantly moved from the brushes to behind it; and it turned around, clearly wary, and angry of Joran. A garbled, inhuman roar came out of its mouth, and began to run towards Joran.

Despite the lack of any damage, Joran recollected himself, and calmed himself down under the notion of the fact he did do something. Although there was no apparent injury, he did strike the orc. Once more, he dashed forward, striking across the torso of the orc, on the opposite side. Once he connected to the orc with his blade, he swiped upwards and brought the blade up towards the shoulder, wedging in between the shoulder blade and the arm that held the club. This strike clearly injured the beast, as greenish-blue blood began to pour out of the entire gash that the strike produced.

A guttural shriek emitted from the orc, and whacked Joran across the face with the free arm it had, at a speed that wasn't even remotely shown as it lumbered up until then. Joran flew across the clearing, smacking into a random tree with a solid thud, and sliding down it onto the ground. The first thing he did was groan in pain, his head throbbing now, and blood blinding his left eye. He looked up, to see the orc, that had now dropped the club, was now charging him at a horrifically fast speed, closing the distance between them rapidly.

Joran reached around him on the ground, could feel his Dao not too far away from him and the tree, and gripped the hilt tightly. However, his body failed him immediately after he gripped it and went limp on him; all he could do was stare blankly at the charging pale figure, and feel a dull sense of death overcome him.

Fwip!

The sound was sudden, and crisp. And it was heard first before Joran could see the orc get cleaved in half just several feet away from finishing him off. The blood oozed out of the two halves in a way that most certainly would have caused Joran to repulse and vomit, were he not dazed from the impact. The imagery was so surreal, Joran didn't even believe it at first. That is until he heard an all too familiar voice.

"Joker Joran, you can't die just yet, you have to make sure the cities are safe first!"

Even with blood gushing down his left eye, he looked up to his right side, to see Reigan clasping his shoulder, smiling broadly, "But I must say… You did well!"

And that was the last thing Joran heard before he passed out as Reigan tried to get him up.