The road was quiet except for the crunch of boots on the dirt and the soft pulse of Aether that lingered whenever Rael got bored and sparked his gauntlets.

They had been cutting across the outlands for a while now, and Arden finally decided to bring up the thing he had ignored earlier.

He willed it, and the system's interface flared before his eyes.

[Life Signature Gained

Source: Hybrid (Human: Elemental Mage) + Beast Infusion (Ashfang Direwolf – Fire Affinity)

Fractured Elemental Vein

Effect: Slight amplification in channeling fire affinity, though it manifests in uneven bursts rather than steady currents. User can smooth these bursts with life energy control, improving adaptability with affinity flow.

Secondary Effect: Residual Surge — under stress or sudden exertion, elemental force leaks from the user's aura, disrupting nearby foes].

Arden studied it for a moment, expression unreadable. It wasn't much, but even a little increase could be sharpened with the right training. "Uneven or not," he muttered, "fire's still fire. I'll take it." He dismissed the panel, tucking it away in the back of his mind.

Their steps carried them deeper into the brush until his chest tightened. The Verdant Anchor, the life tag he'd left on the bandit leader from the Boro trading ambush, tugged faintly. Arden slowed, his eyes narrowing as if he could pierce the land ahead.

"He's close," he said.

Rael raised an eyebrow. "The same bastard from before?"

"Yeah. Not close enough for my sense to lock onto, but near enough to chase." Arden's mouth curved slightly, more edge than smile. "Time to stop being the prey."

Rael grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Finally."

Nyra adjusted the strap on her satchel, calm as always. "You're serious, then. You're going after him?"

"I didn't mark him to let him walk free. He's mine."

Zephyra rumbled low in her throat, flames rippling faintly across her fur. Hunt, she said simply.

That was all the agreement they needed.

They picked up speed, but it wasn't long before distractions began to scatter across their path.

Fires in the distance. Shouts that didn't quite sound like a real ambush. Wagons overturned in places that felt too convenient.

Rael spat into the dirt. "They're playing games with us. Trying to split our focus."

Arden didn't slow down. "They're trying to stall and distract the elemental users patrolling the routes, keep everyone running in circles." His tone was flat, but his eyes burned. "They won't get me with smoke and noise."

"Could still be real attacks," Nyra pointed out.

"Doesn't matter," Arden replied. "If they want us to waste time, then the only right answer is to do the opposite. The tag I left won't lie."

The further they went, the more the diversions multiplied.

One small skirmish in the trees, another caravan crying for help. But Arden's instincts told him most of them were hollow, set up to pull him away from the real trail. His gut tightened. Something bigger was waiting ahead.

"Feels like they're winding up for something," he muttered. "Something heavy."

Rael's grin faded into a more serious edge. "You sound like you're looking forward to it."

"I am."

The path grew narrower, twisting through thorn and stone, until the tug of the Verdant Anchor grew sharp.

The mark had stopped moving.

Arden slowed, signaling the others with a raised hand.

His senses spread, threading through the ground like roots.

He felt them.

Dozens of wagons in a makeshift camp, circling each other like crude fortifications. Fires burned in pits, throwing smoke into the sky. Bandits filled the camp, their presence mixed with the steadier flow of elemental users.

But what pulled his attention most was not the men, it was the cargo. Bound beasts lined the edges of the camp, their roars choked into low growls, chained and gagged. Cages of herbs stacked high, their scents spilling through the air, some rare enough that Arden's eyes flickered with recognition. The collection wasn't random. It was harvest, all being funneled to one place.

His teeth clenched. "Jackpot."

Rael whistled low when Arden described what he sensed. "So they've been stockpiling. Beasts, herbs. Looks like a shipment to one of their bases."

"Exactly." Arden's tone darkened. "If we let this caravan go, they'll push everything deeper into the Organization's hands. They'll vanish, and we'll never trace it back."

Nyra frowned, scanning the treeline. "You're saying we hit it."

"I'm saying I can't walk away." Arden's voice was steady, but beneath it was steel. "Reporting to Greyhold won't do a damn thing. I don't know who I can trust, and by the time councils argue and scribble orders, this camp will be long gone. No. If we strike, it has to be now."

Silence settled over the group for a moment.

Arden's eyes moved from face to face. He didn't want to drag them into this without choice. "I won't decide for you. This isn't a small fight. They won't forgive us, and they won't forget us either. Once we do this, we're marked deeper than before."

Rael only grinned, resting a fist against his palm. "Good. I was starting to get bored with scraps."

Nyra met Arden's gaze, calm but firm. "We were already in danger the moment we chose to follow you. You think we'd back down now?."

Zephyra's flames crackled faintly, her head tilting toward the camp. Break them, she growled.

Arden exhaled slowly, but his eyes gleamed. "Then we break them."

They retreated deeper into the brush, finding a ridge that overlooked the camp without being spotted.

From there they crouched low, the firelight below flickering against their faces as they watched the bustle of the bandits and their prisoners.

The night was alive with noise—clanking chains, muffled beast cries, the shouts of men guarding wagons loaded with spoils.

Arden's gaze never wavered from the camp, his mind already working.

"Listen," he said quietly. "If we pull this off, the Organization bleeds. Not much, but enough to know we're here. Enough to know someone is cutting into their roots. We'll need precision. No wasted moves."

Rael cracked his knuckles again. "So what's the play?"

Arden's smirk was faint, but it carried the weight of a man who had already decided. "We'll plan it tonight. And when dawn comes, this camp won't stand."

They fell silent again, the firelight below dancing across their eyes.

The hunt had begun, but this time Arden wasn't just following trails or cutting down stragglers.

This was different. This was him walking into the Organization's path and daring them to notice.

For the first time in days, his blood burned hot.

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