Clang
Sparks flew as a sword collided with a creature's claws.
Tarrin glanced at the large primate in front of him, it really reminded him of his first fight against a Scarbane.
It was over two meters tall, easily towering over him, yet his heart was calm, he had seen worse.
Tarrin exhaled, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword as the primate lunged—a blur of matted fur and jagged claws.
He sidestepped, letting momentum carry the beast past him. The air whistled as claws raked empty space.
Before the creature could pivot, Tarrin snapped a low kick into its knee. Bone cracked. The primate roared, stumbling, but didn't go down.
'Tough bastard.'
It swung backhanded, claws aimed for his throat. Tarrin dropped into a crouch, feeling the wind of the strike brush his hair. His sword flashed upward—a precise, shallow cut along the beast's forearm.
Not deep enough to disable, but enough to make it flinch.
The primate recoiled, snarling. Tarrin pressed the advantage.
He feinted left, then pivoted right, his blade slicing a thin line across the creature's ribs. It bellowed, swiping wildly, but Tarrin was already gone—flowing around the strikes like water.
The beast charged, a desperate, unbalanced rush. Tarrin planted his lead foot and twisted at the hips, putting his full weight into a horizontal slash.
Steel bit deep into the primate's side, parting flesh with a wet thunk.
The creature staggered, its breath ragged. But it wasn't dead yet.
Claws came again—this time faster, sharper. Tarrin parried, steel ringing against keratin, but the force knocked him back a step. His heel caught on a root. For a split second, he was off-balance.
The primate saw its chance.
It lunged, jaws wide, saliva glistening on yellowed fangs. Tarrin didn't try to regain footing. Instead, he dropped, falling onto his back as the beast's bulk sailed over him.
His sword never stopped moving.
As the primate passed above, Tarrin thrust upward, driving the blade through its sternum with a grunt of effort.
The creature's momentum did the rest—its own weight dragged it down the steel, impaling itself further.
A final, guttural shriek. Then silence.
Tarrin rolled free, yanking his sword loose with a wet scrape. The primate collapsed, twitching once before going still.
He wiped his blade clean on the grass, breathing steady.
Tarrin slipped back into formation, eyes scanning the chaos as the rest of the squad dealt with the remnants of the ape pack.
Noah and Olivia fought in sync, like they'd trained together for years.
He held the line, his shield absorbing the creature's weight like a wall of iron, while Olivia loosed arrow after arrow from behind, each shot precise, mechanical, relentless.
A few meters away, Riko and Jayden were working the mother ape into a corner.
Jayden's shadow spear twisted and lunged like a serpent, creating a canopy of whirling strikes around him.
Riko, unpredictable and nimble, darted in and out of range, disrupting the beast's footing and keeping it too off-balance to land a clean hit on either of them.
Then Tarrin's eyes flicked to the edge of the fight—Klein was being driven back, stumbling into a tree. Just behind the ape, Lena hesitated, frozen in place, her short sword trembling in her grip. Tarrin's expression didn't change, but something cold clicked into place in his mind.
His moment had come.
From the depths of his consciousness, the dread rose again—slow and suffocating, then sudden and violent. It tore into the world like a psychic wave, a choking presence that slammed against reality itself.
A breath later, it washed over them.
The ape froze mid-step. Even Lena was caught in its grip, her limbs locking up with instinctual fear. Klein, however, exhaled in visible relief, his eyes flicking to Tarrin as if recognizing the source.
But Tarrin was already moving. The beast twitched, trying to turn, but it was too late. Tarrin's blade was already in motion—silent, swift, lethal. It cut through the air like a hungry viper and found flesh with a whisper. The sword slid through the ape's neck with no resistance. It choked, grunted once—then collapsed.
Tarrin extended a hand without a word. Klein took it, pulling himself up with a sheepish smile.
"You alright?" Tarrin asked, his voice light.
"Yeah…" Klein scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Just got caught off-guard. Didn't expect it to go that hard."
Tarrin gave a short nod, then turned toward the others. The fighting had ended. The rest of the squad was already regrouping.
But what caught his attention wasn't the aftermath—it was Lena. She stood off to the side, staring at her own trembling hand, still clutching the short sword like it might bite her.
Tarrin approached quietly and placed a steady hand on her shoulder. She flinched, then relaxed the moment she registered who it was.
"Don't beat yourself up," he said gently. "You did fine."
Her eyes met his—dark, unreadable, almost inky in the fading light.
"But we almost lost… because of me," she muttered.
"You're not here just for the battlefield," he replied evenly. "You've got another role. One just as important as the rest of us swinging weapons."
He let the words settle. She didn't respond immediately, but the doubt in her expression flickered.
"And," he added with a grin, "I think I know how you can make it up to your squadmate. I heard Klein mumbling about his back hurting."
She blinked, then followed his gaze toward Klein, who was limping away, clearly sore.
Understanding dawned on her face. Without another word, she took off after him.
Tarrin watched her go, a smile tugging at his lips. But inside, his mind was working. Quietly, precisely.
They were only halfway to the objective—if his guess was right.
The forest would soon give way to a jagged mountain range ahead—the real challenge waited there, and Tarrin knew the fun part was just beginning.
He glanced at Celith, who was already looking at him. Not even pretending to hide it.
'She's been watching me a lot lately. Does she suspect something? But what? I haven't really done anything suspicious since we got here.'
Well, no harm in testing the waters.
He picked up his pace and closed the distance between them in a few easy strides. Once beside her, he shot her a casual smile and waved playfully.
"What's up? Something bothering you?"
Celith didn't answer immediately. She just stared at him, her expression unreadable. But for a split second, her eyes flicked over his shoulder.
Tarrin didn't even need to check. If his sense of angles was right, that meant she'd just looked at Nicolas.
'Interesting. So it's about him? Oho… this is getting spicy.'
He turned his head slightly to glance back, making it clear that he'd noticed her shift in attention. A subtle signal—he just hoped she'd catch it.
Then, without breaking stride, he summoned his Telcom and typed a message into his notes app.
Nicolas?
He passed the device to her with practiced ease. She read the message in a heartbeat, then gave the faintest nod—barely a twitch, but enough to confirm.
Tarrin handed the Telcom over completely. Her fingers danced across the screen, and she handed it back.
Watching you the whole time.
Tarrin frowned as he read the reply. He typed back quickly.
I'm second-in-command. Evaluation?
Why is this girl so damn perceptive?
Celith shook her head and typed something new.
Since the conference room.
That made Tarrin's brows lift slightly. Now that changed things.
'So he's been watching me from the very start… That means this might be something from higher up. Could be the Colonel, testing me. Or maybe Nicolas is a leash, meant to yank if I step out of line. Either way… he could be valuable if I play it right. A gold mine hiding right beneath the Colonel's nose.'
Or maybe he was here to make sure Tarrin didn't leave this mission alive.
'Probably both,' Tarrin thought. 'Depends on how well I perform.'
Then, an idea struck. Classic Tarrin—time to bluff his way into an alliance.
He leaned closer to Celith, shielding the Telcom between their bodies as his fingers began to move. Slow, careful strokes.
Maybe… they don't want me close to you.
Celith read it and frowned, her confusion plain. But Tarrin met her gaze with a serious look, letting silence do the talking.
Think about it, he typed. They want you isolated. No real allies. I don't know who they are, but you have enemies, and Nicolas might be the leash—making sure I don't walk out of this mission.
He paused for dramatic effect, watching her reaction.
'That's right. If she believes she's being targeted, her instinct will be to rebel. If the threat is isolation, the response is loyalty. To me.'
He typed the final push, fingers gliding like a snake striking under tall grass.
We can only rely on us. Can you report anything odd Nicolas does—directly to me?
Then he looked up, locking eyes with her golden gaze. He gave the subtlest nod.
She nodded back—barely noticeable, but it was enough.
Just like that, the hook was in.
And her fate was sealed.