The thrill of leveling up settled into their bones, a fresh spark of energy in their limbs. Vaan and Tal had already hit their next level, but Ronald... well, he was still waiting for his moment.

  “Bollocks and a goblin’s stinky arse! Feels wrong you’re ahead. I’m the one who’s supposed to be carrying your sorry hides back!"

  Tal smirked. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”

  “Neither is being behind,” Ronald shot back. “But here we are.”

  Vaan chuckled. “You’re acting like we stole something from you.”

  “You did! My rightful place at the top.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tal clapped him on the back. “Tell you what, you get the first strike at the next kill.”

  “No promises,” Vaan added, grinning. “You want it, you better be quick.”

  Ronald scoffed. “You two are just hoping I mess up.”

  “Oh, definitely,” Tal said without hesitation.

  They pressed on, eyes sharp, watching for movement... dartfrogs, thornhares, maybe even a bogweasel if luck was on their side. The forest stretched around them, quiet except for the distant rustle of leaves.

  Then Ronald stiffened. A noise. Something shifting in the underbrush.

  He stepped over a thick root, lowering his stance, spear tilting forward. “Could be a thornhare,” he muttered, creeping ahead.

  “Hey, genius,” Tal called after him. “Ever heard of not splitting the party?”

  Ronald ignored him, eyes locked on the rustling ahead.

  They moved with steady anticipation. Every snap of a twig beneath their boots sent a twitch through their fingers, weapons shifting toward the sound... only for it to be nothing. Just the woods playing tricks on them.

  Then the ground shuddered.

  The underbrush exploded outward.

  A boar.

  Not the meager kind that scurried at the sight of steel, but a hulking, snarling mass of muscle and rage. Its tusks gleamed like jagged daggers, caked in old blood, its beady eyes wild with hunger. It didn’t hesitate. It charged.

  The attack hit before their minds could catch up.

  Ronald reacted first, spear flashing forward. “Thrust!” His voice rang out as his skill activated, the weapon lancing toward the beast’s side—too slow. The boar veered, unnaturally fast for its size, its hooves tearing up the earth as it lunged straight at him.

  A heartbeat later, Ronald was airborne.

  The boar’s tusks rammed into him, lifting him off his feet. His body crumpled as it flung him aside like discarded meat, crashing into the dirt with a sickening thud.

  Then—

  Stillness.

  No groan. No breath.

  ...Ronald didn’t move...

  Vaan’s pulse hammered in his ears. He barely had time to think, his body moving on instinct. He stepped in, calling upon his skill. ‘Unwavering Blade!’ His sword arced in a perfect, unyielding strike, slicing into the boar’s flank!

  But it wasn’t deep enough.

  The boar twisted, and before Vaan could react, its tusks slammed into his side. Pain exploded through his ribs as he was thrown back, skidding through the dirt. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up, vision swimming.

  “Tal!” Vaan barked.

  Tal was already moving. His shield came up, catching the boar’s second charge with a crack. He pushed back with all his strength, activating Blunt Wave... a surge of force rippling outward. The boar staggered, if only for a moment.

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  But Vaan wasn’t looking at the boar anymore.

  He was looking at Ronald.

  Still down. Still not moving.

  Something ice-cold slid down his spine.

  “Ronald?” Tal’s voice was tight, uncertain. “Get up.”

  Nothing.

  Then—

  A sharp, ragged inhale.

  Ronald’s body jerked, his chest heaving as he gasped in air like a drowning man breaking the surface. His fingers clawed at the dirt. Blood dripped from his nose, but he was alive. His eyes snapped open, and without hesitation, he lunged.

  His spear rammed deep into the beast’s side.

  The level 6 boar screamed. A raw, guttural sound.

  But it didn’t die. It didn’t even slow down.

  With terrifying speed, it turned—tusks slashing upward.

  There was a wet, sickening rip.

  Ronald’s head snapped to the side as the boar's tusk tore through flesh and cartilage. A spurt of blood shot out, trailing in the air as he stumbled back, his scream strangled by the sheer shock of it. His hand shot to his head. Something was wrong. Something was missing.

  His fingers met raw, torn flesh where his ear had been.

  Vaan saw the exact moment realization hit. The moment Ronald’s knees buckled. The moment his breath hitched in his throat, eyes wide with uncomprehending horror as blood ran hot down his neck. His chest heaved in sharp, ragged gasps.

  Vaan didn’t waste the opening. He struck again, this time with precision, his blade carving through the beast’s underbelly. At the same moment, Ronald, driven by sheer rage, plunged his spear deeper.

  The boar’s shriek was deafening. Its body convulsed.

  And then, finally, it collapsed.

  Silence.

  Vaan stood there, sword lowered, breath unsteady. The metallic stench of blood filled the air, thick and cloying.

  Ronald stumbled back, skin deathly pale. He touched his head again, trembling fingers pressing against the torn mess where his ear had been. “Gone,” he croaked. “It took my ear.”

  Vaan swallowed hard. The wound was ugly. Torn flesh, exposed cartilage... raw and wrong. His stomach churned.

  Tal took a step forward. “We should’ve been more careful”

  Ronald’s head snapped toward him, eyes bloodshot. His grip on the bloody spear tightened. “You think?” The words came low and sharp, edged with something that made Vaan’s muscles tense. For one terrible moment, Ronald looked ready to lash out... like he would drive his spear straight into Tal’s throat without a second thought.

  Then his legs buckled. He hit his knees hard. A low, broken whimper rattled from his throat as he hunched forward, rocking as the agony tore through him.

  Vaan moved fast. “Hold still.”

  “GET... OFF” Ronald jerked his shoulder, but Vaan grabbed his wrist, forcing him still.

  “Stop moving.”

  Tal stood frozen, his breath unsteady, eyes locked on the blood running down Ronald’s neck. His dented, misshapen shield hung limp at his side, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to help but couldn’t make himself move.

  “Tal!” Vaan snapped, urgency slicing through the haze. “Cloth! Now!”

  Tal flinched, jolted from his daze. He fumbled at his tunic, fingers trembling as he tore the hem free and shoved it into Vaan’s waiting hands.

  Vaan pressed the cloth against the wound, tying it tight. It darkened instantly, crimson spreading through the fabric.

  Ronald panted, fingers curling into the dirt. “Fucking!!..” He swallowed hard, teeth bared against the pain. “Should’ve just... killed it quicker.”

  His blood seeped into the ferns beneath him, a stark contrast against the damp earth. Nearby, the boar’s carcass steamed where it lay between twisted roots, its ruptured belly spilling half-digested acorns and bile, a grotesque testament to their recklessness.

  Tal slumped against a moss-crusted log, wiping a shaky hand over his face. “We’re idiots.”

  “No shit,” Ronald rasped. “Twisted Romi’s tits! gerroff me, Vaan!” He weakly shoved at Vaan’s hands. “Ya tryin’ to finish me off or what? ”

  Vaan kept his grip firm, pressing harder. “The stink of blood’s gonna become worse. We can’t sit ‘round like fools. We need to move... now.”

  The forest pressed in around them as Vaan dragged Ronald forward, his blood leaving dark smears across the ferns and moss. Vaan’s muscles burned with the effort, though the recent level-ups from Level 2 to 4 had strengthened his base stats: Vigor 25, Finesse 25, Mettle 18. The Weave granted no free points for these small gains; those only came every five levels for his class.

  Tal moved beside them, unharmed but pale, his eyes darting between the darkening trees.

  “Ronald,” Vaan gritted out between breaths, “if you hit Level 5, dump your points into Mettle. Now.”

  Ronald just grunted, his pupils blown wide with pain and frustration.

  Vaan didn’t press. Spearmen and Guardsmen, like his own class, only got free attribute points every five levels. That damn boar had taken three spears to the gut before it finally fell, excluding Vaan’s sword strikes and the blunt force from Tal, of course... and Ronald had been the one to land the killing thrust.

  Still, Vaan doubted whether it had been enough to push him past Level 5, especially considering Ronald had been at Level 1 before the fight.

  Vaan didn’t get the chance to ask.

  A snap. A deliberate step in the underbrush.

  Then—steel at his throat.

  Vaan froze. Tal stiffened beside him, his breath hitching as another spear hovered near his neck. A bowstring creaked, drawn taut in the fading light.

  A low chuckle. Andryr Golbert, Level 9 Spearman. His stance was easy, almost lazy, but the cruel glint in his eyes told a different story.

  “Looks like the prey mistook itself for the hunter.”

  His spear pressed just enough for Vaan to feel its bite.

  “Slipping past the watch, sneaking in without clearance…” Andryr's grin sharpened. “You know the rule.” A pause, deliberate, savoring the moment. “Punishable by death.”