They stopped just beyond the outer road, where the stone path gave way to packed dirt and roots that cut through the ground like veins.
"Before we go further," the woman said, turning to face them, "we should introduce ourselves properly."
Nev nodded. That made sense. A fight in unknown territory with strangers was a good way to die.
"I'm Lyra," she continued. "Tier 1. Support and healing."She tapped the small crest on her belt as she spoke. Her armor was light and flexible, layered leather reinforced with thin metal plates at the shoulders and forearms. Practical. Her spear was short, balanced, clearly chosen for control rather than reach.
The man with broad shoulders stepped forward next. "Bran," he said. "Tier 1 Tank."He wore heavier armor than the rest of them, thick plates over reinforced padding. A large shield rested against his back, scratched and dented from repeated use. His weapon was a blunt mace, weighted and brutal.
The last man raised a hand casually. "Kerr. Tracker."His gear was the lightest. No heavy armor, only dark cloth reinforced at the joints. A short bow hung at his side, along with several knives. His eyes were sharp, constantly scanning the forest even as he spoke.
They all looked at Nev.
"Nev," he said. "Tier 1."He paused, then added, "Close-range damage. I'll handle fast strikes."
Lyra studied him briefly, then nodded. "Assassin-type?"
"Yes."
That earned a faint smile from Bran. "Good. We were missing one."
The roles fit together neatly. Tracker, tank, healer, damage dealer. Simple. Balanced. Nev felt a quiet sense of approval. It was not excitement, but recognition. This formation worked.
They moved toward the restricted gate.
Two guards stood watch, their expressions neutral but alert. The forest beyond the gate was darker, denser, and marked with faint warning symbols carved into stone posts. This area was reserved for registered Holders only.
One by one, they presented their Holder IDs.
The guards inspected each card, verifying tier and authorization before stepping aside. When Nev handed his over, the guard paused slightly longer than usual, eyes flicking up to his face, then back to the card.
"Tier 1," the guard muttered. "Clear."
The gate opened.
As soon as they passed through, the air changed.
The forest pressed closer here. Sounds dulled. Even light felt thinner, filtered through dense leaves and tangled branches. Nev's instincts sharpened immediately. He could feel the subtle tension of territory claimed by monsters.
Kerr crouched near the ground, fingers brushing soil and broken leaves. "Tracks are fresh," he said quietly. "Amenta pack. Five, maybe six. Moving northeast."
"How long ago?" Lyra asked.
"Less than an hour."
"Good," Bran said. "Let's move before they scatter."
They advanced carefully.
Nev walked slightly behind Bran, blade loose in his hand. His eyes tracked movement not just in front of him, but to the sides, above, behind. The instinct shard hummed faintly, warning him of minor disturbances long before they became threats.
They found the pack near a rocky clearing.
The Amenta were exactly as Nev remembered from study. Low to the ground, muscular hind legs coiled beneath scaled bodies. Their hides reflected little light, blending with stone and shadow. Long tails twitched as they circled, alert but not alarmed.
Kerr raised two fingers, then spread them slightly. Positions.
Bran moved first.
He stepped into view deliberately, shield raised, drawing attention immediately. One Amenta hissed and lunged. Another followed. Bran met them head-on, shield crashing forward, forcing them back with sheer mass.
Lyra stayed behind him, spear ready, eyes focused. A faint glow gathered around her hand, subtle and controlled.
Nev moved.
He did not rush. He waited until the pack reacted to Bran's presence. When two Amenta broke formation to flank, Nev stepped in.
His blade flashed once.
He aimed for joints. Tendons. Weak points between scales. One Amenta collapsed instantly, legs failing beneath it. The second spun, tail whipping toward him.
Nev saw it before it happened.
He twisted, letting the tail pass inches from his chest, and drove his sword down into the creature's spine. It went still.
The pack shrieked.
Kerr's arrows flew next, precise and measured. He did not aim to kill, but to disrupt. Amenta stumbled, their coordination breaking under sudden pain.
Bran held the line.
Lyra moved fluidly, reinforcing Bran when needed, striking only when openings appeared. Her healing was quiet, efficient, applied exactly where required.
Nev moved like a shadow between them.
He struck, withdrew, repositioned. Each movement flowed into the next. No wasted motion. No hesitation. The instinct shard guided him through blind spots and sudden shifts.
Within minutes, it was over.
Five bodies lay still in the clearing.
Nev exhaled slowly, blade dripping dark blood.
"Well," Kerr said, breaking the silence, "that went smoother than expected."
Lyra looked at Nev, curiosity clear in her eyes. "You're good," she said. "Better than most Tier 1s."
Nev wiped his blade clean. "Good teamwork."
Bran chuckled. "I like him."
They began extracting cores.
As they worked, Nev glanced deeper into the forest.
This hunt had been clean. Controlled. But the forest beyond the clearing remained watchful. He could feel it. This was only the beginning.
Nev sheathed his sword.
The team moved on.