The forest swallowed sound.
That was the first thing Nev noticed when he stepped beneath the trees. The air felt thicker here, heavy with damp earth and old leaves. Moonlight struggled to pass through the canopy above, breaking into thin, uneven patches that never stayed still. Every shadow seemed deeper than it should have been, as if the darkness itself shifted when he was not looking.
Nev moved carefully, each step deliberate. His sword rested at his waist, one hand close but relaxed. He kept his breathing steady and allowed his senses to stretch outward.
The threads behaved differently here.
They were not calm like they were in the city. They trembled faintly, bending and curling through the air as if disturbed by something unseen. Nev slowed further, his instincts warning him without words.
This place was hunting ground.
He advanced another few steps when a sound reached him. It was not loud. Not a roar or a growl. Just a soft disturbance, like cloth brushing against bark.
Nev stopped instantly.
His body moved before thought. He shifted sideways as something sliced through the space where his neck had been a heartbeat earlier. Air cracked. A sharp pressure grazed his cheek.
Pain bloomed.
Nev staggered back and touched his face. His fingers came away wet. Blood dripped between them.
Tier Two.
There was no doubt.
He turned slowly, scanning the darkness. Nothing stood where the attack had come from. No shape. No movement. Only silence returning too quickly.
The threads screamed.
They twisted violently to his left.
Nev threw himself forward just as claws raked through the space behind him. The ground exploded with shredded leaves. He rolled and came up in a crouch, sword drawn now, heart pounding.
Something moved.
It stepped into a patch of pale moonlight, and Nev saw it clearly for the first time.
The Faceless.
It stood taller than a man, its body long and thin, skin smooth and pale like stretched stone. Its limbs bent at wrong angles, joints too flexible, too fluid. Where a face should have been, there was nothing. No eyes. No mouth. Just a smooth, empty surface that reflected moonlight faintly.
Yet Nev felt its attention lock onto him.
The monster tilted its head slightly, as if listening.
Faceless were night hunters. Nev remembered that from his preparation. They relied on speed and darkness, striking before prey understood what stalked them. Many never saw the monster that killed them.
Nev tightened his grip on the sword.
The Faceless moved.
It vanished.
Not invisibility. Not teleportation. Just speed. It crossed distance faster than Nev's eyes could track. The threads warned him a split second before impact. He twisted his body, but claws still tore across his forearm.
Pain flared.
Nev grunted and kicked backward, creating space. He slashed where he felt the intent, not where he saw movement. The blade cut air.
Missed.
The monster reappeared several steps away, crouched low, limbs folded like a predator ready to spring. It did not rush. It waited.
Nev's breathing grew heavier. Blood dripped from his arm, warm and steady.
This thing was faster than Hazel. Faster than any Tier One he had ever seen.
He moved slowly, circling, keeping his back away from trees. The Faceless mirrored him perfectly, matching every step without sound. It did not breathe. It did not blink.
Nev struck first.
He lunged, blade aimed for the torso. The monster slid aside with unnatural grace and struck at the same time. Nev barely twisted away. The claws grazed his ribs. The blade nicked the monster's side.
There was no blood.
The Faceless recoiled, not in pain, but in recalculation.
Nev felt a chill run through him.
It was learning.
The forest darkened as clouds drifted over the moon. Shadows deepened. The threads around Nev vibrated erratically, overwhelmed by constant movement.
The monster disappeared again.
Nev spun, slashing blindly. Something hit his shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways. He crashed into a tree, bark biting into his back. His vision blurred for a moment.
He pushed off the trunk just as claws ripped through the space where his head had been.
Nev stumbled forward, chest heaving.
He was bleeding from three places now. His face burned. His arm throbbed. His shoulder screamed with pain.
This was not a fight he could win by skill alone.
The Faceless stood several steps away, motionless once more. It tilted its head again, as if confused that its prey still stood.
Nev swallowed and forced his breathing under control.
If he fought like this, he would die.
The realization settled cold and heavy.
Tier Two was not just a step above Tier One. It was a different world entirely. Strength. Speed. Experience. Everything stacked against him.
The Faceless crouched lower.
It was preparing to end this.
Nev raised his sword, but doubt crept into his grip.
He could not keep up.
He could not see it clearly.
He could not block what he could not track.
The forest fell silent.
Then the monster vanished once more.
Nev stood alone in the dark, blood dripping onto leaves, knowing with terrifying clarity that the next exchange would decide everything.
And he had not yet found a way to survive.