Brunn drew its attention, shield raised, hammer flashing. Lysa repositioned, barriers snapping into place mid-motion. Owen darted in and out, Seishi clashing against armored hide.
It worked.
Until it didn't.
The beast adapted.
A sweeping strike shattered Lysa's barrier, the backlash sending her skidding across stone. Owen lunged to intercept but the creature's tail clipped him mid-air.
Pain exploded.
He hit the ground hard, vision blurring.
"Owen!" Lysa screamed.
Brunn roared, throwing himself between them, taking a blow that sent him crashing into a tree hard enough to splinter it.
For a moment, just a moment everything went wrong.
Owen forced himself up, blood in his mouth, muscles screaming.
This wasn't supposed to be like this.
They were better than this.
Owen was better than this.
Seishi hummed violently as Owen got into stance.
Without another moment wasted, he vanished.
Lysa kneeled down there face drowning shock. She couldn't track Owen's movements. It was like those mysterious people at the abandoned station, he vanished like them. Reaching a level of speed that makes one look like one disappeared and still that's not what shocked Lysa. What shocked her was the fact despite having no mana Owen's killing intent was... suffocating.
With one clean strike, a deep cut the beast roared in pain before burrowing back into the ground to retreat.
Owen landed gracefully as he exhaled deeply.
They survived.
Barely.
No victory. No relief.
Brunn sat against a tree, breathing hard. "Okay," he rasped. "I'm gonna need a new spine after this."
Lysa rushed to Owen, hands glowing faintly as she checked him over. "You're an idiot."
He coughed. "You're welcome."
That night, nobody slept much.
Owen sat awake, Seishi across his knees, staring into the dark.
He'd been close.
Too close.
For the first time since becoming a mercenary, a thought crept in quiet, dangerous.
What if I can't protect them?
His pendant felt colder than usual.
They didn't talk about what almost happened.
That was the rule the next morning. Not spoken, just understood.
Brunn woke up sore, cracked a joke about needing a new spine, and went back to being loud. Lysa busied herself checking supplies, hands steady, voice normal. Owen sharpened his blade in silence, the soft scrape of metal the only sound he trusted.
But something had shifted.
They moved closer together now. Not consciously just instinctively. Like animals that had felt the teeth of something bigger.
The terrain worsened.
Forests thinned into twisted growths where trees leaned at unnatural angles. The ground pulsed faintly with mana residue, old and wrong. Even Lysa had trouble reading it.
"This place has been fed on," she said quietly. "For a long time."
Brunn adjusted his grip. "By what?"
She didn't answer.
Owen already knew the answer wasn't something he wanted to hear.
They found another team's remains two days later.
What was left of them.
Weapons snapped. Spell foci shattered. A banner torn and half-buried in the dirt.
Lysa knelt, fingers trembling just slightly as she traced the sigil sewn into the fabric.
"I knew them," she whispered.
Owen felt something twist in his chest. "Friends?"
"…Colleagues," she corrected. Then, after a pause, "Once."
Brunn removed his helmet. "We turn back?"
Silence.
Owen looked at Lysa. She was staring at the ground, jaw tight, eyes glassy but unbroken.
"No," she said finally. "If we turn back now, someone else comes here. And they die too."
Brunn sighed. "Figured you'd say that."
Owen suddenly cut in. "Then what if its us who die here?"
Lysa looked at him. For a second, her expression softened." We won't."
That night as they were eating, Lysa spoke up.
They were camped under a rocky overhang, fire low, the world narrowed to shadows and flickering light.
"I was a mercenary from a young age," she said suddenly.
Brunn froze mid-bite. Owen looked up slowly.
"I also had a party once," she continued. "A good one. We laughed. We planned. We said we'd retire together."
Her voice didn't shake. That was worse.
"They died on a job like this. Unmarked. Underestimated. I lived because I ran."
Owen's grip tightened on his cup.
"I told myself I'd never get close again," she said. "Then you two happened."
She exhaled sharply, like the words burned on the way out. "That's why deep down, I'm scared."
Brunn reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Yeah. Me too."
Owen didn't say anything.
He just sat there, listening, memorizing the sound of their voices like he might need it later.
The next fight was worse.
Smaller beasts this time. Faster. Coordinated.
They came from the trees in a blur of claws and shrieks.
Brunn held the line, blood streaking his arm, grin feral. "C'MON THEN!"
Lysa's mana flared brighter than Owen had ever seen it, barriers snapping into place just in time, her breathing sharp.
Owen moved.
Desperately.
Precise.
He was everywhere ducking, weaving, striking, pulling attention away when needed, dragging pressure off Lysa, covering Brunn's blind spots without being told.
When it was over, the ground was littered with bodies.
They stood there, panting, alive.
Brunn laughed hoarsely. "Still got it."
Lysa wiped blood from her cheek, then turned to Owen. "You good?"
Owen stared at his blade. "I don't know."
She never understood what he meant.
Later, while Brunn slept, Owen sat with his back against a tree, knees pulled in.
Lysa joined him quietly.
"You okay now?" she asked.
He hesitated. "…Kinda."
She nodded. "That's much better."
After a while, she said softly, "If anything happens to me..."
"No," Owen said immediately.
She blinked, surprised.
"I don't want to hear it," he continued, voice low. "Say it later. Or never."
For a moment, she just looked at him.
Then she smiled.
"Alright," she said. "Never."