The rocks gave way to sand and fractured stone as the four dark Type-3 Wanderers stepped into view — lean shapes of shadow, limbs dripping oily darkness. Veyr watched them with cold precision, blades at the ready. Ellie moved to his side, pulse racing, then slid a half-step behind him in that half-teasing way only someone who trusted him completely could manage.
"Well then," she murmured, playful but breathless, "go on big brother… they're all yours."
Veyr gave her a look out of the corner of his eye that was equal parts irritation and affection, before locking onto the enemies again. His stance shifted — low, sharp, prepared.
A few paces back, Rhen stood leaning against a rock, arms loosely folded, looking exactly like someone watching street performers instead of a battle forming. "Don't look at me," he called when Veyr glanced back at him. "Think of this as a practical evaluation."
"You're not going to help?" Veyr growled.
"You can manage this," Rhen replied with casual confidence. "If you really try."
Veyr didn't answer — because the Wanderers moved.
The first rushed him head-on. He met it with fluid violence — one blade flashing up to split the creature from shoulder to skull, the other spinning outward to intercept a second that was circling to flank. The air filled briefly with black, hissing ash. Movement to the right — Veyr cut low, severing a leg, then finished the kill with a backhand stroke.
Ellie stayed behind him exactly as he had taught her back at the hut — small profile, steady breath, calm eyes. Her fingers were clenched so tightly around the tiny river stone in her palm that her knuckles were white. She didn't understand why it gave her strength… only that it did. Letting go felt like giving up.
A third Wanderer broke away from Veyr and darted toward her — drawn by motion or heartbeat, it didn't matter.
Veyr stepped that direction instinctively, but the thing was already too close.
"Rhen—!"
Before the word had fully left his mouth, a shimmer of force flared between Ellie and the creature — invisible yet solid enough to stop it mid-lunge. It hit the barrier hard, rebounded with a snarl that sounded almost animal — carving a deep gouge into the sand as it landed.
Rhen, standing off to the side with one hand held lazily forward, gave Ellie a sideways smile. "You didn't run. That's already more than most."
Veyr dispatched the final Type-3 with a ruthless sweep that split it down the spine. The field fell silent except for the rasp of sand and Veyr's breathing.
He strode toward Rhen, anger flickering beneath the control of his expression. "Quit testing us."
"Testing?" Rhen's eyebrows rose, amused. "You did well. Especially her. She didn't move an inch."
"We are not—"
Ellie screamed.
Not shrill. Not dramatic. Just sharp enough to cut through stone.
Veyr spun faster than thought. "Ellie?! Rhen — what the hell are you doing?!"
It wasn't that Rhen had been careless. It wasn't even that he had reacted too slowly. His glyph was there, flaring up even as he turned…
…and it shattered.
The force-field burst into red sparks and vanished as if the very air had rejected it.
Standing in the dust behind Ellie was nothing like a Type-3. It was massive, easily twice Veyr's height, body carved from thick, corded muscle, skin a dark and gleaming crimson, like blood that had been forged into armor. Its eyes — jagged, intelligent — burned like coals inside a skull-shaped too perfectly human.
The Wanderer's clawed hand hovered inches from Ellie's back, frozen mid-motion as though savoring the moment.
Veyr froze, heartbeat crashing into his ribs. Every instinct in his body screamed MOVE — KILL — SAVE.
Type-6.
Rhen's voice came out hoarse, disbelieving. "That's… impossible."
The creature smiled, and the smile looked terribly, terribly wrong on something wearing no true face. When it spoke, its voice was deep, melodic — human — but layered beneath with something that sent a crawling chill through the spine.
"I wondered," it said, voice sliding like silk over blades, "who carried such promising cores."
Veyr shifted forward, both swords raised, green eyes burning with fury, knowing this was not a fight he had expected — or possibly could win.
The Wanderer's gaze swept over Ellie slowly… then fixed on him.
"I am the Blood Monarch," it said gently. "And I have come for you."