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Rynna caught one of the younger Hollow-born tightening his grip around his weapon. Another glanced sideways at his companion, lips tugging into a small smile, while the woman beside him straightened, a nervous energy flickering in her eyes.

Well done, Rynna thought to him, watching the reactions ripple through the group. She, too, was curious to see what he could do. Over the recent years, he had always restrained himself during confrontations with Fang Unit.

“Well then,” Fenn said, his voice steady as ever. “Move out. You know the formation.”

In an instant, the Hollow-born blurred into motion. One by one, they vanished from sight, slipping into their scouting positions across the wide perimeter. Each took their place with practiced precision as they scouted for any sign of the dead. Then, with a final nod, Fenn charged ahead, leading the group, while Kaelith and Rynna trailed directly behind him by ten lengths.

The group raced through the steep, craggy landscape of Stone territory, navigating ancient trees whose thick, knotted branches stretched overhead like skeletal arms. As she leaped from branch to branch, the air grew colder, and the smell of pine and damp moss filled her lungs. Faint shafts of light barely pierced the dense canopy, casting ghostly shadows across the rugged forest floor.

They had been running for nearly an hour when Fenn slowed, raising his fist, and gave a soft bird call. It was the signal that they were approaching the area where the villagers were supposed to be. But as Rynna scanned the terrain, it didn’t seem like a large group of people was anywhere nearby.

“No signs of life, Commander,” one of the volunteers reported. “Not for four hundred lengths in any direction.”

Fenn knelt, fingers splayed over the moss as if listening through the earth itself. The damp soil shifted under his touch, and above them the leaves stirred, answering in kind. She didn’t need to ask what he was doing; she’d watched him find the world’s core like this more times than she could count.

For a moment, nothing, then his eyes widened in sudden recognition. “Ambush!”

At the warning, Kaelith’s arm clamped around her waist, before wind surged and hurled them both back into the trees.

They dropped onto the broad limb of an ancient oak, boots striking bark in the same instant. The branch groaned under their weight, stilling beneath them, just as jagged black crystals speared upward, splitting through stone and soil in a violent rush.

“Careful, pet.” His voice slithered through the crash of splintering wood and the hail of shattered rock. “You wouldn’t want to end up a lovely piece of art on one of those thorns.”

Rynna shot him a glare, swatting his hand away. “A little warning next time.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“The fun would be in you getting speared instead,” she muttered, but her lips twitched upward despite herself.

Below, Fenn was moving—his body a twisting blur as he cut through the air, slipping past the crystal spears before they could strike. Most of the others followed, rolling clear, with only torn uniforms and shallow cuts.

But not everyone was so lucky.

Cries split the clearing as two Hollow-born were caught mid-leap in the sudden bloom of jagged crystal. One was skewered outright, his body left hanging, blood streaking down the dark spike. The other crashed to the ground, a shard driven clean through her thigh. She scraped at it with blood-slick hands, her scream breaking off into ragged gasps.

“We have to help them!” Rynna struggled against Kaelith’s grip.

“Quiet!” He hissed, pulling her closer. “They’re already dead. The points are poisoned.”

“How can you be so sure?” She whipped around to face him, heart seizing as the threat of betrayal tore through her thoughts.

Kaelith’s hand jerked up, clamping hard around her chin.

“There!” He tilted her head, forcing her to look past the shattered earth to where the far end of the killing ground had begun to heave and bubble, thick and unnatural.

“I know this attack.” His voice was grim. “Though it should be impossible. The man who wields it has been dead for years.”

Her stomach plunged. This was bad. Her gaze swept the chaos, hunting for Fenn, panic rising with every heartbeat. Relief hit hard when she found him crouched unhurt—only for it to vanish as a grating voice spilled from the shadows behind them.

“Well, well. Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” The voice was cold, familiar. “An old friend...and the girl who got me killed.”

Kaelith and Rynna split instantly, darting to opposite branches to box the intruder in from the shadows. It had been years since they’d fought side by side, yet the old instinct flowed back between them as if no time had passed at all.

“Yata!” Rynna growled, eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the hunched figure below. “You should be dead.”

“And yet, here I stand!” The man cackled, a mad gleam in his eyes. “I apologize, but I don’t believe I ever caught your name during our last encounter. Too busy. You understand.”

“Her name doesn’t belong on your lips, Crow,” Kaelith growled, then looked to Rynna. “It seems Skarn found a way to bring back some old acquaintances. We should dispatch them quickly.”