Ch 10:The Art of Survival

The early morning sun filtered through the thick canopy, casting a pale, golden light across the forest floor. The world around them seemed serene, with a soft breeze stirring the leaves and the distant sound of birds singing. Yet, despite the picturesque calm, there was an undeniable tension that clung to the air, like the tightening of a noose just before it pulls taut.

The group stirred, slowly rising from their makeshift camp, their movements sluggish but practiced. Elda was already awake, her hands deftly gathering the small traps she had placed around the perimeter the night before. She moved like a shadow through the trees, her sharp eyes scanning for anything out of place. Ren and Vyn, still groggy from sleep, exchanged light banter as they packed their belongings, their voices carrying a false sense of ease.

“Think we’ll make it through today without you losin’ one of those arrows again, eh Vyn” Ren teased, his lips curling into a smirk as he strapped his short sword to his side.

Vyn grinned, his eyes still half-closed as he shouldered his quiver. “As long as you don’t trip over your own feet again, we should be fine.”

The swordsman rolled his eyes strapping his sword. “Ha. Just stay sharp, alright? Feels like the forest itself is watchin’ us.”

Their words were light, but the tension beneath them was palpable. Every joke felt like a distraction, a way to ignore the growing unease that seemed to press down on them from the surrounding forest. Taren, ever the stoic leader, quietly rolled up his bedroll, his gaze shifting from his team to the darkened tree line. His instincts told him something was off, but he kept his thoughts to himself for now.

At the back of the camp, Soren moved in near silence, his movements precise and deliberate. He secured his pack, checked his weapons, and gave a brief nod to Ayola, who was already studying the forest with a practiced eye. She had noticed the same thing he had—the unnerving quiet, the absence of the usual morning sounds. No chirping birds, no rustling of small creatures. It was as if the forest had fallen into an unnatural stillness.

Ayola broke the silence between them, her voice low and casual. “What do you think? Something in the air?”

Soren glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Could be. Or it could be nothing.” His tone clipped, almost dismissive, as if he didn't want to give away more than necessary.

Varis, who had been quietly packing up his tools and maps, listened intently to the exchange, though he pretended to be focused on his work. Information was his currency, after all, and any scrap of conversation could be valuable later. He made a mental note of Soren’s words, carefully cataloging them as he folded his map and tucked it away.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Ayola replied with a smirk, adjusting the straps of her pack. She wasn’t one to press for details, but her curiosity about Soren remained. There was something about the way he moved, the way he observed the world around him, that suggested he was far more than he appeared to be.

“Stay close, all of ya. And keep quiet and alert.” Taren prompted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This isn’t the time for mistakes.”

Ren scoffed under his breath “Or jokes, apparently.”

“Exactly.”

Everyone nodded, falling into formation. Ren and Vyn took the front, their usual places as scouts, while Taren and Elda moved to the center of the group. Soren remained at the back, his posture relaxed but his eyes ever-watchful, like a predator stalking unseen prey. Ayola walked just ahead of him, her steps light and measured, while Varis hovered nearby, his gaze flicking between the trees and his companions.

The forest loomed around them, the towering trees like silent sentinels, their branches twisting together high above to form a dense canopy that blocked out much of the morning light. The air was thick with moisture, clinging to their skin as they trekked deeper into the woods. The path ahead was winding, with roots and vines threatening to trip up the unwary.

Soren’s eyes scanned the ground, noting subtle tracks and disturbances in the underbrush. They weren’t alone out here—of that, he was sure. But whatever was watching them had yet to reveal itself.

Ayola glanced back at him, her curiosity getting the better of her. “You’re good at this,” she said, her tone casual, but there was a spark of intrigue in her eyes. “Tracking, I mean. You always this quiet, or do you just not like talking about yourself?”

Soren met her gaze briefly, his face impassive. “Not much to talk about,” he replied, his voice as steady as ever.

Varis, still pretending to be focused on his maps, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Come on, everyone’s got a story,” he remarked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Where are you from, Soren? Maybe we’ve crossed paths before.”

For a moment, Soren was silent, his eyes shifting to the trees as if weighing how much to reveal. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, measured. “Just a traveler. I’ve been to a lot of places.”

Ayola raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the vague answer, but she let it drop. “Mysterious. I like it,” she teased, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

Varis, sensing he wouldn’t get more out of Soren for now, shrugged and turned his attention back to the map. But behind the merchant’s casual demeanor, his mind was working, piecing together what little he knew of their enigmatic companion.

As the group pushed deeper into the forest, the tension grew, subtle but unmistakable. The once-peaceful woods now seemed to press in on them, the silence heavy and oppressive. The further they ventured, the darker the forest became, with the thick canopy overhead blocking out much of the sunlight.

And still, the forest remained unnervingly quiet.

The trail narrowed as they moved deeper into the forest. The towering trees now felt closer, their twisted branches overhead like gnarled hands reaching down to touch the earth. The path was uneven, the ground littered with roots and stones, making every step deliberate and careful. The oppressive silence hung heavy in the air, and even the wind seemed to have abandoned them.

Varis kept his eyes on the terrain, occasionally muttering to himself as he mapped out their route, his quill scratching against parchment. Ayola, walking beside him, took mental notes of the flora around them, her sharp gaze occasionally darting up to assess their surroundings. She paused every so often to take samples—moss from an ancient tree, soil from a particularly barren patch, even a few leaves with unusual colorations.

“This soil… it’s not right,” Ayola murmured, crouching down and running her fingers through the dirt. She rubbed the soil between her fingertips, frowning. “It feels like something’s been draining the life out of the earth itself.”

Varis peered over her shoulder, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Catalyst corruption?”

Ayola shook her head slowly. “No, it doesn’t feel like that. Catalyst corruption is… different. More volatile, chaotic. This feels almost like a deliberate force, something ancient and methodical.”

Soren, who had been walking a few steps behind them, glanced down at the strange soil, though his expression remained unreadable. He said nothing but filed the observation away in his mind. There were always subtle signs when something was wrong with the land, and this was one of them. The corruption had spread farther than they knew, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was leading them somewhere.

“Think we should collect a sample?” Varis asked, already reaching for a small vial from his pack.

Ayola nodded. “Definitely. If we come across a source of this, it might explain the dead zones we’ve been encountering.”

While Ayola and Varis worked together, Ren and Vyn kept to the front, their banter softening into occasional remarks about the strange landscape. Every now and then, they’d stop to mark trees or leave subtle indicators for their return journey.

Taren, keeping a watchful eye on the team, paused and signaled for everyone to stop. His hand went up, a silent command that froze everyone in place.

Soren moved to his side, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his katana as his eyes scanned the surroundings. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Tracks. Something big.” pointed to the trampled undergrowth.

Ren knelt by the tracks, his brow furrowing. “Whatever it was, it’s not far off. These are fresh.”

The ground was disturbed in large, irregular patterns. The prints themselves were strange—massive, birdlike, with talons that sank deep into the earth. But what caught Soren’s attention was the way the branches above had been snapped in wide arcs, as if something large had flown low through the trees.

Ayola stepped forward, her expression turning serious. “A creature with wings this size… it’s no ordinary bird.”

“No bird leaves tracks like this,” Vyn muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve hunted my fair share of game. This is… different.”

Taren straightened, his jaw clenched. “Everyone, stay sharp. We don’t know what we’re dealing with, but it’s close. We need to keep moving, but stay quiet.”

They proceeded with more caution, the air around them growing thicker with unease. As they moved deeper, the forest became darker, more twisted. The trees bent in unnatural ways, and the path ahead was riddled with signs of destruction—large swathes of foliage torn away, deep gashes in the earth, and the occasional shattered tree trunk.

“This…whatever it is, it’s not just big. It’s fast and strong,” Ayola observed, her sharp eyes tracing the marks.

“There's no hesitation in its strikes. It knows how to hunt.”

Varis, standing nearby, rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “And we’re in its territory, aren’t we?”

Ayola didn’t respond, but her silence was enough.

Soren, silent for most of the exchange, stepped closer to the claw marks. His gaze followed the line of destruction leading deeper into the woods, where the shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally. There was something watching them. He could feel it, even though it hadn’t revealed itself yet. A faint prickle ran down his spine, the kind of instinct that came from years of survival.

“Eyes up,” Soren murmured, his voice steady but carrying weight. “We’re not alone.”

Just as the group moved to continue, a piercing screech echoed through the trees. It was unlike any sound they had heard before—sharp, otherworldly, and powerful enough to send a shiver through each of them. The forest, which had been eerily quiet before, now seemed to tremble with the reverberation of the noise.

Taren’s expression hardened. “Whatever that is, it knows we’re here.”

The group quickened their pace, moving more deliberately now. Every rustle in the underbrush, every creak of the trees seemed magnified, as though the very forest was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.

The air grew tense as the group advanced through the forest. The once calm and steady rhythm of their expedition was suddenly disrupted when the dense undergrowth gave way to a large clearing. The sounds of the forest seemed to die away, replaced by a hollow silence that pressed in from all sides.

Soren felt it first. His hand hovered near the hilt of his katana, eyes narrowing as he scanned the treetops. The silence was unnatural, a warning that the group was about to be caught off guard. He glanced at Ayola, who met his gaze briefly. Her sharp eyes betrayed nothing, but he knew she felt it too—the calm before the storm.

The forest ended abruptly, giving way to an opening hidden behind massive, ancient trees, and a tangle of debris. The air felt heavier, like walking into a room just after a scream.

Taren paused, his hand raised, and a silent command for the group to stop. His sharp gaze swept the area, the faint lines forming on his brow. Something about this place felt off.

“What is it?” Ren whispered, his voice unusually subdued.

Taron didn’t answer immediately, stepping forward carefully. heading out to the ground, running a glove hand over the dirt. It was subtle, but the earth seemed… wrong. Too smooth, too even for a forest floor. “Ther—”

Before he could elaborate, Elda stiffened, her daggers slapping into her hands in one fluid motion. “Over there,” she murmured, nodding towards a cluster of trees just ahead.

The group moved cautiously, weapons drawn, until they saw it— a jagged stack of corpses partially obscured by the trees. They froze, the site striking them like a physical blow.

The bodies were a chaotic heap of the dead. Human corpses— no more than five— or tangled with the broken remains of the corrupted animals. World with their jaws, locked in eternal snarls. Boars with grotesque, blighted tusks. a massive gorilla light creature whose hands were the size of shields. Among them lay something they hadn’t encountered before: a creature resembling a rhino, but with warped, bone protrusions carving from its back like jagged spears

“Blighted,” Ayola breathed, her voice hush with a mix of awe and dread.

The humans were no better. Unlike the animals, their bodies bore no obvious signs of corruption, but their expressions— twisted and terror— spoke volumes. Their armor, once polished and strong, was now battered than stained with dark, congealed blood. Deep claw marks gouge through their metal plates, and their weapons lay broken beside them.

Ren crouched near the edge of the pile, his usual bravado dimmed by the sight. “These guys didn’t go down easy,” he murdered, gesturing to a sword, still lodged in the neck of a corrupted boar. “But they didn’t stand a chance.”

Vyn, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped his bow. “What kind of animal leaves a stack like this? They don’t pile their kills.”

“This isn’t the work of animals,” Soren muttered, his eyes scanning the area with a predators focus. “Something—or someone— did this.”

Ayola stepped closer to the human corpses, her gloved hand hovering over one of the lifeless forms. She didn’t touch it, but her sharp eyes dirty across the scene, the puzzle. “No Catalyst corruption,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “But look at their injuries. They were torn apart.”

Taren straightened from where he’d been examining the ground near the corpses. “This isn’t random. I think these ruins were designed to keep something out— or in.”

His words, the group's attention shifted past the pile of bodies to the ruins themselves. The towering structures loomed above them, their stone faces etched with carvings that seemed to twist and ripped in the dim lights. Snaked up the walls cling like veins to an ancient body

“Look at the ground,” Varis stated, his voice tight with unease. The dirt and stone Beneath their feet were marked with strange, spiraling patterns, almost like scars. “ the symbols… They’re not decoration, they're part of the structure. Defensive? Or a warning?”

“Does it matter?” Ren growled, rising to his feet. “What killed these people could still be here.”

“And watching,” Soren added, his voice is low and steady. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his katana, his eyes scanning the shadows stretched unnaturally.

“Stay together. We move carefully.” Taren stated.

The group moved deeper into the ruins, the oppressive atmosphere brushing down on them with every step. The same substance they found earlier the thicker patches here, glistening in the faint light.

As they approach the central pyramid, note to examine particularly large patch of the substance. “It’s spreading outward,” she said, glancing at Taren. “From the pyramid.”

“And the bodies?” Varis asked, though he already suspected the answer.

“Dragged here,” Soren replied. “Placed deliberately.”

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The realization settled over them like a shroud. Whatever had done this wasn’t just hunting—it was making a statement.

Just as Taren opened his mouth to speak, a sound cut through the tense atmosphere, a faint almost imperceptible rumble that seemed to vibrate in their bones. The ground beneath their feet felt alive.

Then, from somewhere deep within the pyramid, a piercing screech tore through the air. It was unlike anything they’d ever heard, a sound that clawed at their ears and twisted their stomachs.

“Form up!” Taren’s voice cut through the chaos as he raised his shield.

The group scrambled into it, defensive formation, their weapons drawn, and their eyes staring at every shadow. The screech echoing again this time closer, reverberating through the ruins, like the cry of some malevolent force.

Soren’s grip tightened on his katana, his sharp eyes fixed on the pyramid. Whatever was coming, it was already too late to run.

The silence broke like a shattering mirror as the creature’s ear-piercing screech ripped through the clearing. The sound echoed like thunder, shaking the very foundation of the ruins. Parts of the crumbling structures shuddered and collapsed, sending cascades of stone and debris crashing to the ground.

The beast loomed over them, its massive shadow swallowing the clearing. Violet glints shimmered across its crystal-like feathers, each one catching the fractured sunlight in an eerie, hypnotic display. The feathers shifted unnaturally, phasing between solid and ethereal forms as if teasing the boundary between the physical and the otherworldly. Its talons, curved and gleaming like scythes, gouged into the earth with a screech that rivaled its own cry. A long tail that had swayed behind it with a large crystal the size of a melon on the end of the tail.

A strange, flickering flame, pale and ethereal, danced in the tufts of fur on its lion-like chest. Its glowing purple eyes locked onto the group with an intelligence and malice that felt almost human. But it wasn’t the beast’s form alone that struck terror—it was the weight of its Catalyst energy. The air turned thick, suffocating, pressing down on them as though the very world rejected their existence in the face of this abomination.

Another screech tore through the air, rattling their bones. The ruins groaned under the pressure, cracks spidering along ancient walls as stones tumbled to the ground.

Ren’s grip faltered, his knuckles pale from the pressure. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat deafening in the crushing silence. His mind raced with fragments of old tavern tales, stories whispered by grizzled adventurers over pints of ale—stories of beasts so massive, so deadly, that only fools or the already damned dared to face them. He had always thought them exaggerated, drunken boasts meant to scare rookies.

Now, standing before one of those nightmares made flesh, he realized how wrong he had been.

“What… what is this thing?” he whispered, his voice trembling. The words felt hollow, pointless in the face of such an overwhelming presence.

Beside him, Elda clutched her daggers, her normally steady hands shaking uncontrollably. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her ribs aching with each inhale. She felt the scream of her instincts—run, flee, survive!—battling against the cold logic that she could never outrun something like this. She forced herself to meet the creature’s glowing eyes, the effort costing her every ounce of willpower. “It’s not natural,” she managed, her voice tight with fear. “This thing… it shouldn’t exist.”

Varis, standing furthest back, pressed himself against the bark of a tree. His eyes darted frantically between the beast and his companions. We’re going to die. The thought looped endlessly in his mind. He tried to focus on something, anything, that could help them, but his fingers fumbled, unsteady with fear, unable to grip his tools.. “This isn’t a fight,” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. “This is survival. We stay, we’re dead.”

His bow hung useless in his grasp, his arms leaden and unresponsive “Anyone got a plan?” Vyn inquired aloud, betraying the sheer terror clawing at his mind.

The ground shuddered as the creature took a single step forward, its talons carving new gashes into the earth. The crystalline feathers along its body shimmered and bristled, catching the light like shards of shattered glass. Another screech erupted from its throat, this one deeper, more resonant, as though it were daring them to act.

Taren’s voice cut through the suffocating tension like a blade. “Move! Now!” His tone carried an authority that broke through their paralysis, but even his words couldn’t entirely mask the fear laced beneath.

With a roar, Taren charged forward, his shield raised as he positioned himself between the beast and his companions. The sheer size of the creature made his figure look small, but the act was enough to jar the others into motion.

Varis was the first to react, stumbling backward just as the beast’s talons raked the ground where he had stood moments before. He scrambled toward the cover of a fallen pillar, breathing in shallow, panicked gasps. He knew his role wasn’t combat—he wouldn’t last a second in the fray.

Elda’s instincts took over. She darted to the side, moving swiftly.Her movements were sharp but measured, keeping her distance as she assessed the situation. Her mind raced, searching for weaknesses, anything they could exploit to survive.

Ren finally snapped out of his stupor, but his movements were jerky, uncoordinated. He raised his sword, though his grip faltered, unsure and unsteady, as he tried to focus on the beast’s shifting form. “What do we even do against something like this?” he growled, his frustration mingling with fear.

Vyn, finally finding his footing, nocked an arrow, though his hands shook so violently that it almost slipped from his grip. He muttered a curse under his breath, forcing himself to focus. Got it! Here’s the revised scene where Vyn is interrupted mid-sentence and the rest of the group narrowly escapes with the help of Soren, Taren, and Ayola. It incorporates the details about the beast having an eagle-like head, the massive claw marks in the dirt, and Varis stumbling to safety.

“Keep it distracted!” Vyn shouted, voice high and urgent. But the words barely left his mouth before the beast lunged, its massive, talon-like claws slicing through the air.

Everything happened at once.

The ground trembled under the force of its leap, debris scattering as the beast’s shadow swallowed the group. Its glowing violet eyes fixed on Vyn, and before he could even nock an arrow, its claws arced toward him in a devastating swipe.

Taren moved first. With a single, forceful shove, he tackled Vyn out of the way. They hit the ground hard as the beast’s talons slammed into the dirt with a deafening crack. A gash at least a foot deep and twice as wide carved through the earth where Vyn had been standing. Dust and stones rained down on them as Taren hauled Vyn to his feet. “Stay alive!” he barked, his shield already raised.

Ren, frozen in place, barely had time to process the attack before the beast turned, its glowing eyes locking onto him. It lunged again, the earth shuddering under its weight.

Soren grabbed him by the arm, yanking him backward with startling speed. “Move!” Soren snapped, dragging Ren just as the talons struck the ground. The force sent them tumbling into a patch of debris as dirt and jagged rocks sprayed around them. Ren’s breath came in ragged gasps, his sword shaking in his hands.

Elda staggered back, her ribs aching, but her body wouldn’t respond fast enough. The beast’s glowing feathers flared as it swung a massive claw toward her, the deadly strike unavoidable in her frozen state.

“Not on my watch!” Ayola snarled, darting forward and slamming into Elda, driving them both to the ground. The beast’s talon crashed down inches from them, splitting a fractured column in two. The shards rained down, but Ayola didn’t stop moving, grabbing Elda’s arm and pulling her behind cover with a fierce grip.

Varis stumbled as he tried to backpedal, his foot catching on a root. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. The beast’s tail swept low, tearing a massive gouge into the dirt where he’d fallen, but he managed to roll, crawling behind a shattered pillar. A deep claw mark scarred the earth mere feet from his position, the raw power of the strike making his stomach churn. That could’ve been me.

The group regrouped, their chests heaving as they scrambled behind what little cover the ruins provided. The clearing trembled with each step of the beast, its talons digging into the earth and leaving deep furrows in their wake.

“That thing—” Ren gasped, his voice shaking as he stared at the gouged earth, “—we don’t survive even one hit.”

“We can’t let it touch us,” Elda rasped, pressing a hand to her ribs. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her body still trembling from the impact of Ayola’s tackle.

Vyn, pale and wide-eyed, slumped against a column, his bow hanging loosely in his hand. “It’s too fast. That thing—it’s not just big; it’s a damn monster.”

The beast reared back, its crystalline feathers shimmering as its head twisted toward them, glowing eyes narrowing with predatory focus. Another screech tore through the air, rattling the ruins as chunks of stone tumbled from the ancient structures. The oppressive weight of its Catalyst energy pressed down harder, distorting the air around it like a mirage.

“It’s watching us,” Soren said quietly, his katana drawn, his sharp eyes following the creature’s every move. “Stay spread out. Don’t give it a target.”

Ayola’s voice cut sharply through the chaos. “We need to draw it closer to the ruins—those carvings might give us something to work with. Taren, you take point. Keep it moving!”

The beast crouched low, its claws raking the ground as it prepared to lunge again. The tension was suffocating, each second stretching unbearably long as the group readied themselves to move.

“Scatter!” Taren barked as the beast launched forward.Here’s the revised scene, incorporating the high stakes, urgency, and the sequence where Vyn impressively retrieves and uses his special triple-shot attack before Taren intervenes to save him at great personal cost:

Vyn’s hand closed around the bow, his breath hitched as he felt its familiar weight. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but his hands moved on their own, nocking three heavy-duty arrows in a practiced motion. The beast, still focused on the others, bristled with Catalyst energy as its wings flared.

He pulled the string back, his arms trembling but steady enough. “Come on… just a little closer,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as he aimed at the beast’s talons. The triple-shot wasn’t something he used lightly; it required precision and strength. But this wasn’t the time to hold back.

Just as he released the shot, the beast twisted unnaturally. A flash of violet crystal feathers filled his vision, and his heart sank as the creature turned its glowing eyes directly on him.

Time seemed to slow. Vyn watched as the three arrows flew through the air, their heavy-duty heads glinting as they spread into a bolas formation mid-flight. The beast lunged toward him, talons raised, but the arrows struck true. The bolas wrapped around one of its massive talons, the weighted cords tightening and pulling it off balance mid-swipe.

For a moment, Vyn felt a flicker of hope. But the beast barely stumbled, its talons still slamming forward, the added weight making the strike more blunt than sharp. He froze as he realized it wasn’t enough.

The beast was upon him.

He barely had time to throw himself to the side, the blunt edge of the bola-wrapped talon grazing the ground where he’d stood. The earth shook from the impact, sending him sprawling. Dust and debris clouded the air, and his mind raced as he realized how close he’d come to being crushed.

Before he could get to his feet, the beast twisted again, its glowing eyes locked on him. He couldn’t move fast enough.

The talon, despite the bolas binding it, raised again to strike—and then Taren was there.

“Move!” Taren bellowed, slamming into Vyn with his shield raised. The force of the shove sent Vyn sprawling backward, his bow clattering to the ground again. Taren didn’t falter, planting his shield between the beast’s talon and the archer.

The creature struck, its weight bearing down on the tied talon. The impact sent shockwaves through Taren’s shield, the blunt force enough to drive him back into a nearby wall. The air left his lungs in a sharp, choked sound as his ribs cracked under the strain.

“Taren!” Vyn shouted, his voice cracking with panic as he scrambled toward him.

The shield buckled slightly under the pressure, but it held long enough to deflect the beast’s blow. Taren grunted as the force tossed him sideways, his body slamming into the ruined wall with a sickening thud. His head struck the stone, and his shield clattered to the ground as his body slumped.

“Taren, no!” Vyn’s voice broke, his hands hovering, hesitant, as though afraid to confirm the worst. His mind raced. He saved me. He saved me again.

The beast’s roar tore through the clearing, its fury palpable as it tried to shake off the bolas tangled around its talon. The group could only watch in stunned silence as it reared back, violet feathers shimmering as its Catalyst energy surged again.

“Soren, get him!” Ayola’s voice cut through the chaos, her tone sharp with urgency.

Soren was already moving. He darted toward Taren and Vyn, katana in one hand as he crouched beside them. “Vyn, grab his arm,” he ordered, his voice steady despite the tension.

Vyn nodded shakily, his grip unsteady as he looped an arm under Taren’s shoulder. Together, he and Soren dragged the unconscious man back toward the others, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The beast roared again, talons slamming into the ground as it struggled to free itself from the bolas. Dust swirled around its massive frame, and the glow of its violet eyes burned brighter, more furious.

Elda steadied her daggers, the tightness in her voice betraying the fear she couldn't fully suppress as she kept her gaze on the beast. “Is he alive?”

“Barely,” Soren replied, his tone clipped. His eyes flicked to Vyn, who sat pale and trembling. “You need to stay back now, Vyn. Don’t do anything else stupid.”

Vyn didn’t respond, his gaze locked on Taren’s bloodied face.

“Taren’s out,” Ayola said as she joined them “We have to hold it off without him.”

The beast let out another screech, shaking the ruins as the ground beneath their feet shuddered. The bolas still held its talon, but it wasn’t enough to stop its overwhelming strength.

“We need to move!” Ayola shouted, her voice cutting through the rising panic. “If we stay here, we’re next.”

The group shifted, their movements frantic but coordinated as they prepared to retreat further into the ruins, Taren’s limp form dragging behind them.

The beast’s roar shook the clearing as its talons scraped the ground, ripping deep trenches into the earth. Taren lay motionless, and Ren, barely conscious, was sprawled beside him, his shoulder twisted at an unnatural angle. Dust and debris swirled, obscuring the group’s view as panic set in.

“Grab him!” Ren’s voice was hoarse and strained as he tried to push himself upright.

“Stay down!” Elda snapped, coughing as the movement sent sharp pain lancing through her ribs. Her gaze flicked to the beast, then to the others scattered across the battlefield. “Varis!” Elda snapped, voice sharp and commanding.

Varis hesitated only a moment before darting forward grabbing the bow with quick, deliberate movements. He thrust it into Vyn’s trembling hand.

“Take it,” he said somberly.

Meanwhile, Soren and Ayola were already on the move.

Soren darted to the side, his katana flashing as he slashed at the beast’s hind leg. His blade struck true, but it barely scratched the shimmering feathers that shifted and bristled with Catalyst energy. He cursed under his breath, his sharp eyes scanning the creature for any sign of a weak point.

“Ayola, stay behind me!” he barked, but she ignored him.

Ayola sprinted toward the remains of a broken pillar, her quick mind working racing ahead of the chaos around her. She grabbed a loose chunk of stone, tossing it with all her strength toward the beast’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make the creature flinch, its head snapping toward her.

“Hey! Over here, you overgrown chicken!” she shouted, her voice laced with defiance. She darted behind another piece of rubble just as the beast’s talon came crashing down, missing her by inches.

The ground split under the force of the strike, dirt and debris spraying everywhere. Ayola didn’t stop moving, her quick reflexes keeping her a step ahead of the creature’s relentless pursuit.

Soren, seeing an opening, moved with practiced precision. He darted in and out of the beast’s reach, his katana deflecting a swipe just enough to redirect its momentum. His movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as he avoided another strike that sent a shattered column crashing to the ground. “Keep moving!” he called, his voice sharp and commanding.

Elda’s voice cut through the chaos, hoarse but determined. “Varis, get them out of here!”

“I—I can’t,” Vyn stammered, clutching the bow. “This is my fault—”

“Then fix it,” Elda snapped, her tone harsh as she dragged Ren closer to Taren. Her voice cracked under the weight of her panic.

“You and Varis get us out of here.”

Elda snapped, her voice raw with panic. “Help me get them to safety, or this all goes to hell!”

Varis shot a glance toward Soren and Ayola, still locked in the chaos of the fight. “What about them?” he asked, though the answer was already forming in his mind.

Elda didn’t respond immediately, her jaw tightening as she hauled Ren upright. Her ribs burned with every shallow breath, and the weight of the decision pressed down on her like a physical force. She glanced at Taren’s unmoving form, then at Vyn and Varis. “We don’t have time. They’ll hold it off long enough for us to escape.”

“But—” Vyn began, guilt twisting his features.

Elda rounded on him, her voice sharp and cutting. “You think I don’t know what this means? You think I want to leave them?” She took a step closer, her trembling hand pointing toward the fight. “You want us all dead? Is that what you want? Because that’s what will happen if we don’t move now. This is your mess—so help me fix it!”

Vyn flinched, shame burning through him as he nodded silently. His movements were jerky, fingers stiff and clumsy as he bent to help lift Taren.

“Elda,” Varis said, his voice low but firm. “This isn’t right.”

Her jaw tightened, her gaze hardening as she looked at him. “Get them out of here,” she ordered, ignoring the tremble in her voice. “That’s an order, Varis. I’ll deal with the rest later.”

With Soren and Ayola

Soren’s sharp eyes followed the others as they retreated, Ren limping heavily with Elda’s support and Varis and Vyn dragging Taren between them. His chest tightened as realization hit him like a hammer.

“They’re leaving,” he muttered, his voice low and bitter. Then, louder, he yelled, “They’re leaving us!”

Ayola, darting between crumbling walls and fallen debris, caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Her expression didn’t change, her voice steady as she said, “They’re doing what they think they have to.”

Soren turned to her, his katana glinting as he deflected another strike from the beast. “What they have to?” he snapped, his voice raw with disbelief and anger. “They’re leaving us to die, Ayola! That’s not survival—that’s betrayal!”

Ayola ducked under a swipe of the beast’s tail, her movements fluid and deliberate. “Focus, Soren,” she urged , her voice firm but calm. “You can be angry later—if we live through this.”

His jaw clenched, fury burning in his chest as he channeled it into his movements. Each slash of his katana grew sharper, more precise, as he danced just out of the beast’s reach. The betrayal stung deeper than he wanted to admit, but he buried it beneath the primal need to survive.

Back with Elda’s group

The beast’s roars faded slightly as the group moved deeper into the ruins. Elda collapsed against a broken wall, her chest heaving with effort. Ren groaned beside her, barely able to stand, his shoulder hanging uselessly.

Varis and Vyn lowered Taren gently to the ground, their faces pale and drawn. Varis’s gaze flickered back toward the distant battle, the tension in his jaw clear. “They’re still back there,” he muttered, his voice tight.

Elda pressed a trembling hand to her ribs, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “They’ll make it,” she said, her voice cold but unconvincing.

Vyn’s guilt twisted further as he looked at her, his voice trembling. “But what if they don’t?”

Elda’s eyes flashed, her temper flaring as her panic spilled over. “We don’t have time for ‘what if,’ Vyn!” she snapped, her voice sharp and cutting. “Do you want us all dead too?”

Vyn looked down, shame burning through him as he swallowed hard and nodded.

Ren, barely conscious, whispered hoarsely, “You… left them.” His words were weak, but the accusation hit like a dagger.

Elda glanced back towards the distant sounds of chaos, her chest heaving as she forced herself to look away. They’ll make it,” she whispered, the words hollow against the crushing weight of her doubt.