The beast lunged, and Marec stepped in to meet it. He closed the gap and forced it to commit its weight early.

  Semir and Rovan held position for a breath, then backed off at Marec’s hand signal. They kept their weapons ready, but they gave him room. Marec did not want anyone close to him for what he was about to do.

  Fire ran over Marec’s arms in a tight sheet, covering from wrist to shoulder. His mana flared out hard enough that Arvey felt the heat even in the canopy.

  “I can hold this state for one minute,” Marec shouted. He didn’t look at Semir and Rovan when he said it, because his eyes stayed on the beast. “After that I’m out. The rest is in your hands.”

  Semir gripped his sword until his knuckles went white. Rovan tightened both hands on the spear and set his feet. “Yes, boss,” Semir said. “Yes, boss,” Rovan echoed. He kept his spear angled forward and his mana circulating in a controlled flow. Both of them stepped farther back and held a wide arc, ready to intercept anything that tried to flank.

  The beast slammed forward again, desperate to crush Marec. Marec met it head-on and used speed instead of distance. He shifted left, then right, then drove in under the neck with a forearm wrapped in fire.

  The fire did not spread across the ground this time. It only stayed on Marec’s arms and on contact points. Every strike carried heat and force, and every impact knocked mud and bark loose.

  Arvey watched from above and felt his stomach tighten. Marec was not trading careful touches anymore. He was fighting without regard for collateral damage, and the clearing started to break under it.

  A claw slammed into a tree trunk and ripped a chunk of wood free. Marec answered with a palm strike that hit the marked chest and forced the beast’s front legs to skid. The red grooves flashed once, then dimmed, and the beast screamed through clenched jaws.

  Semir and Rovan stayed back and didn’t interfere. Their mana kept circulating, and Arvey could feel the steady pressure of it from where he crouched. Arvey’s eyes narrowed. “So they can control mana too,” he thought. “Can they use a skill, or is it only control..” He kept the question in his head and forced his attention back onto Marec.

  Marec moved at a speed Arvey did not expect from a man bleeding through torn cloth. He cut angles so fast that the beast had to turn its whole body to track him. Each turn cost it time, and Marec spent that time on the grooves.

  He struck the neck marks, then the chest marks, then the shoulder marks. Fire kissed the grooves and left them darker and cracked for a beat.

  The monster tried to bite and clamp down. Marec drove his flaming forearm into the lower jaw and forced the mouth open, then shoved the head sideways. Teeth scraped leather and singed cloth, Marec didn’t flinch.

  Arvey’s eyes widened at the risk Marec took. One mistake meant a crushed arm or a torn throat, but Marec kept moving anyway.

  The beast slammed its shoulder toward Marec’s ribs. Marec took half a step inside the line and hit the shoulder with his forearm, fire snapping on contact. The impact shoved the beast sideways into a tree.

  The tree trunk cracked. Bark exploded off the surface. The beast’s weight tore the trunk apart, and the top half tilted and fell.

  Marec used the falling trunk as cover for one step, then shot out the other side. He drove a fist into the marked flank and followed with a second hit to the neck. The beast staggered and dragged claws through mud to keep balance.

  The air pressure from the monster surged again. Arvey’s breathing tightened, and his ribs felt loaded.

  Marec didn’t slow. He flared his mana outward for a split second, heat and force pushing off his arms. The flare forced the beast’s head to jerk back, and it bought Marec a clean angle. He stepped in and hammered the chest groove again.

  The beast screamed and snapped forward with full desperation. Its muscles bunched, and it tried to crush Marec with weight alone, but he didn’t yield ground.

  He dug his boots into the mud and drove forward. Fire wrapped his arms and left scorched marks on the hide where he landed hits. The groove lines flickered, weaker than before, and the pressure stuttered.

  Semir shifted his stance and started to move, then stopped himself. Rovan glanced at him once and stayed still. They had heard the order, and they were treating it as a rule.

  Marec’s breath got louder. Blood ran down his arms in steady lines, and the fire kept burning over the wounds without stopping. The minute was costing him, and Arvey could see it in the way Marec’s shoulders tensed between strikes.

  The beast opened its mouth wide and tried to bite down on Marec’s head. Marec stepped in instead of back. He reached into the mouth.

  He grabbed the upper jaw with one hand and the lower jaw with the other. Fire wrapped his forearms and licked along the teeth line, and the beast thrashed with full force. Marec’s legs shook, but his grip held.

  Arvey felt his own throat go dry. Marec was inside the kill zone on purpose. Semir swore under his breath and tightened his sword grip, but he still didn’t move.

  Marec shoved the jaws apart and forced the head up. The beast’s neck stretched, and the grooves along the throat flashed. Marec’s arms flexed, and he pulled the mouth open wider.

  Then he detonated.

  A violent explosion burst from both hands at the same time. The blast did not roll across the clearing in a wave. It hit upward and used the beast’s own head as the lever.

  The beast lifted.

  Its front half rose first, then the whole body ripped free of the mud in a brutal upward launch. The red grooves along its chest flashed once and then dulled under the force, and the pressure in the air snapped down for a beat. Marec released at the top of the lift and snapped his hands back under his chest.

  He looked up and moved into the next step. Gathering fire again, he formed a bow of fire, smaller than before, with tighter curves and less wasted shape. Mana poured into it in fast pulses, and the glow turned harsher and more volatile. Arvey watched the bow and felt heat prick his face. “What a guy. Damn,” he thought, tightening his grip on the branch.

  Marec formed a fire arrow in his palm and set it against the bowstring. The arrow held its shape instead of spilling. Marec’s hands shook once, then steadied.

  The beast hung in the air for a short moment, limbs flailing, body twisting as it tried to orient. It started to fall, and the line of its fall aimed straight for Marec. Marec didn’t move.

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  He held the bow steady and kept his stance planted, eyes locked on the beast’s chest. The grooves flickered in weak pulses as it fell, and Marec tracked the flicker. Arvey whispered, “Impressive.."

  Marec released.

  The fire arrow hit mid-air and detonated on impact. The blast tore through the beast’s chest and shoulder, and blood and hide fragments sprayed outward. Heat rolled out in a tight wave and licked the nearest trunks, charring bark and snapping thin branches. Dry needles and loose leaves caught for a moment, and small flames crawled up two trees before falling away in burning strips. The force kicked the creature backward in the air and changed its landing line.

  Marec moved at the same time.

  He sprang sideways from the spot where he had been standing, boots sliding in mud as he threw himself clear. He rolled once and came up on one knee with his head down, keeping his arms close to protect the injured one. The beast crashed down, hitting the ground with a heavy impact that sent mud spraying.

  The beast did not rise. Its chest was torn open, and the red grooves across its neck and ribs flickered one last time before going dark. Its jaw snapped once at empty air, then hung open as the head sank into the mud. The last movement in its legs died, and the pressure that had been crushing the air vanished.

  Arvey took one deep breath without thinking, and his lungs filled easier than they had in minutes. His shoulders loosened, and he hated that he hadn’t noticed how tense he was until the pressure disappeared. He kept his hands on the branch and stayed still.

  Semir stepped forward to make sure, sword raised, then stopped when Marec lifted a hand. “Back,” Marec said, and the word came out rough. Semir obeyed without arguing and took a half step away.

  Rovan kept his spear up and scanned the trees for anything else moving. He didn’t find anything, but he didn’t relax. Blood leaked through torn cloth on his thigh, and he kept his stance.

  Marec stood slowly, then swayed for a moment. The fire around his arms was gone, and his mana was no longer circulating around him. Blood ran down both forearms in steady lines.

  “Now,” Marec said, and his voice came out thin. He swallowed once and forced his posture straight. “We move.”

  Rovan moved to Marec at once and braced him under the arm. Marec didn’t push him away, and he didn’t thank him either. Semir stared at the beast’s corpse with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

  Marec walked to the corpse with Rovan’s support and crouched beside it. He put his hand on the beast and held it there. The corpse vanished.

  Arvey’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t stop the reaction. “This guy has a dimensional storage item,” he thought, voice low in his head. Kozlo shifted on the branch and made a quiet noise of approval.

  Marec stood again with effort and looked at Semir and Rovan. “We have to reach the outpost before it gets dark,” he said. “We will be safer there.” His breathing stayed heavy.

  Semir’s head snapped toward him. “What about the boy,” Semir asked, and his voice rose. He tightened his grip on the sword until the blade trembled.

  Rovan spoke first. “That isn’t important right now,” he said, and his tone stayed hard. Semir’s face tightened, and anger replaced the shock.

  “He could have something to do with Seryn’s death,” Semir snapped. He took one step forward, and Rovan’s spear tip lifted a fraction in warning.

  “Enough,” Marec said loud, and the single word cut through them. He forced his shoulders back and looked at both men in turn. “We go to Duskmire now, and we report to Sir Duskstone. That is the mission.”

  Semir stared at him, then nodded once with visible effort. Rovan nodded without hesitation and shifted his grip to keep Marec steady. Arvey watched from above and clenched his jaw.

  “Idiot,” Arvey thought as Semir kept staring at the ground. “You saw what kind of monster was out here.” He kept the thought short and stayed silent.

  They moved again, slower than before. All three were hurt, and none of them could hide it. Marec leaned on Rovan’s support, Semir’s breathing was loud, and Rovan’s thigh bled through his cloth.

  The broken trees and burned patches behind them stayed quiet. Arvey assumed the weaker monsters would keep distance after the fight. He also assumed there weren’t many Tier four monsters roaming around.

  Kozlo dropped back to Arvey’s shoulder as they traveled. Kozlo watched the ground team with bright eyes and stayed quiet.

  They reached the ring of poles again, and the smell hit before they stepped inside. Resin and ash clung to the air, and the bodies still lay where they had fallen. Semir’s face twisted.

  “Damn the cult and their experiments,” Semir said, and he kicked a small stone without looking at it. Marec didn’t answer right away.

  “Who knows how many beasts they want to grow,” Marec said in a flat voice. He scanned the formations and the cracked masks. “They are getting more and more dangerous.”

  Rovan looked toward the deeper woods and then back to Marec. “Even in Duskmire, there have been more incidents,” he said. “People are starting to push back.” His voice stayed low.

  Marec nodded once. “We keep moving,” he said. He pointed forward with a short motion, then turned his head away from the bodies.

  Arvey held still in the canopy. “Duskmire,” he thought, and the name stayed in his head. A city meant people and information, and information meant leverage.

  As they continued toward the city, Arvey felt his plan tighten. Duskmire also meant he could blend into crowds and live a normal life like anyone else. He glanced at Kozlo and shook his head. “Whatever a normal life looks like with a talking owl.” Kozlo looked back with bright eyes and seemed pleased.

  Kozlo shuffled on Arvey’s shoulder and made a small proud sound. He looked down at the warriors and then back at Arvey. “Hide game,” Kozlo whispered, and his wings twitched.

  Arvey flexed his fingers as he moved along a thicker branch line. He felt the warmth in his chest, and he hated how untrained it still felt. “I have to learn how to use skills like that fire,” he thought. “I have to learn how to use my mana.”

  After a long stretch of travel, the three warriors slowed near a green barrier that cut through the forest. It stood between trunks and ran across their path with a steady glow. The warriors didn’t hesitate.

  They walked straight through it. Their bodies passed the green line without resistance, and they disappeared on the other side. Arvey stopped in the canopy and watched.

  He waited at distance and counted time. Ten minutes passed, and the warriors did not return. Kozlo shifted on his shoulder.

  “We lose them,” Kozlo whispered. Arvey kept his eyes on the barrier and shook his head once.

  “No problem,” Arvey said in a low voice. “We already have a direction.” He stared at the green line and kept his jaw tight. “Duskmire should be behind that thing.”

  Arvey moved down from the trees and approached the barrier on foot. He looked left and right and saw the green glow stretching through the forest without an obvious end. He tightened his grip on his dagger out of habit.

  “Either it’s infinite,” Arvey muttered, “or it has a shape and it’s wrapping something.” He scanned the ground and picked up a stick.

  He pressed the stick against the barrier. The stick slid through with no resistance, and Arvey’s eyes narrowed. Kozlo leaned forward.

  “Duskmire!” Kozlo said, excited enough to forget volume. Arvey glanced at him and gave two fingers for silence, then looked back at the green line.

  “Exactly,” Arvey said. “It has to be a barrier that protects the city from monsters.” He pushed the stick farther through and watched for any reaction.

  He felt nothing on the stick. The barrier had no thickness he could feel. Arvey stepped closer.

  He pushed only his head through. Kozlo hopped off his shoulder at once. “Kozlo wants see,” the owl said, then jumped fully through.

  Arvey looked down on the other side and felt a jolt of confusion. He couldn’t see his own body beyond the barrier, only Kozlo and his own hand that he had pushed through. In front of him, the view was still forest.

  “Damn,” Arvey muttered. “Nice city they have here.” He scanned left and right again and saw only trees.

  “The city is probably deeper inside,” he said in a low voice. He pulled his head back out of the barrier and blinked once.

  He stared at the green line again and forced his thoughts to stay clean. “Kozlo,” he said. “If we leave this spot, can you find the barrier again?”

  “Kozlo can find barrier,” Kozlo answered at once. He sounded confident, and he flapped once as if the answer was obvious. Arvey nodded.

  “Good,” Arvey said. He looked at the green line one more time. “Hard to miss,” he added, and his tone stayed dry.

  He turned away from the barrier and started walking back into the woods. Kozlo blinked and tilted his head. “City?” he asked.

  Arvey didn’t stop walking. “If warriors like those three are Tier three to five,” he said, “we don’t know if they are strong or average.” He glanced up through branches and kept his pace steady.

  “We should be at least Tier three before we step into that place,” Arvey said. “We don’t know what waits in this city.” Kozlo’s eyes widened.

  “Arvey smart,” Kozlo said. He sounded proud.

  Arvey let himself grin for a moment, then wiped it off his face. “Let’s go grind those tiers,” he said, “and figure out this freakin mana.” He kept moving away from the barrier, and Kozlo stayed on his shoulder, quiet and excited.