Ren sensed the disturbance before anything broke the surface.
The mana ahead was wrong—compressed, violent, rolling in waves that didn't belong to ordinary monsters. He lifted a clenched fist without turning his head.
Kian stopped instantly.
Lira froze mid-step.
The three of them sank into cover, breath controlled, eyes forward.
Then the earth exploded.
A massive body tore free from the ground, soil and stone hurled outward as if the land itself had rejected it. Eight enormous heads rose at once, each one hissing, jaws opening wide enough to swallow a man whole.
An eight-headed hydra.
Before Ren could fully process that, the ground shifted again. A second creature emerged several dozen meters away—a massive segmented worm, its upper body rotating slowly as organic cannon-like protrusions aligned and glowed.
A turret-type monster.
Two high-tier monsters.
Together.
Ren's heartbeat remained steady, but his instincts screamed.
This area is death.
Then footsteps echoed.
Four figures walked forward openly, not bothering with cover, not lowering their mana signatures.
They didn't rush.
They didn't even draw weapons immediately.
One boy stepped ahead of the others, long sword resting loosely on his shoulder. His gaze swept over the monsters the way a butcher judged livestock. No tension. No fear.
"Took long enough," he said casually.
Another boy stretched his arms lazily, joints extending and snapping back into place as if testing flexibility. "If it burrows again, call it. I'll pull it out."
A third boy rolled his shoulders, sparks flickering briefly around his palms before vanishing. "Try not to ruin the drops this time."
Behind them, a girl stood with her arms crossed, glowing summoning circles rotating faintly at her feet. She yawned.
"Hurry," she said. "I don't want to waste mana before evening."
Ren's pupils narrowed.
They weren't bluffing.
They weren't posturing.
They were already discussing efficiency and loot division—before the fight even began.
The hydra struck.
Four heads lunged at once.
The swordsman moved first.
One clean step forward.
One calm swing.
A head fell.
No wasted motion. No flourish.
Before the severed neck even began to regenerate, the boy with the stretching arms snapped one limb forward. His arm elongated unnaturally, fingers wrapping around another head and yanking it sideways with brutal force.
"Left side's mine," he said.
The fire user released a condensed blast—not a fireball, but a piercing lance of flame that punched straight through a third head, cauterizing it instantly.
"Three down."
The fourth head slammed into the ground where the swordsman had been moments earlier.
He didn't look back.
The summoner finally uncrossed her arms.
A mana construct formed—lean, canine-shaped, its body dense and sharp-edged. It leapt toward the worm turret without hesitation.
The turret fired.
Organic bolts ripped through the air.
The summon weaved through them, detonating directly against the turret's armor. The explosion tore chunks from its plating.
"Finish it," the summoner said flatly.
The hydra roared, remaining heads thrashing violently now.
Still, none of the four stepped back.
The swordsman drove his blade into the ground.
Mana surged—not flashy, but overwhelming.
The earth itself resisted the hydra's movement, pressure locking its body mid-burrow.
The stretching boy laughed softly as both his arms elongated again, binding two heads at once. "Don't struggle. Makes it messy."
Chains burst from the summoning circles—golden, heavy, absolute. They wrapped around the hydra's core, binding it completely.
The fire user exhaled slowly.
Then released everything.
The explosion flattened the clearing.
When the dust cleared, the hydra was gone.
The worm surfaced one last time, attempting to reposition.
The swordsman split it in half with a downward arc, already turning away before the body hit the ground.
Silence returned.
None of them celebrated.
They simply began collecting drops.
Ren remained still, heart steady, eyes sharp.
They never once checked each other's positions, he realized.
They trusted everyone to do their job.
Lira finally whispered, her voice tight.
"…High nobles."
Kian swallowed.
Ren nodded once.
"They fight like they've never had to doubt themselves."
They didn't move to follow immediately.
They waited.
Once the noble group left, Ren signaled a retreat deeper into cover.
Their mana was low—dangerously so.
They took out the mana orbs they'd gathered over days of fighting, absorbing the smaller ones first. Carefully. Slowly.
Guardian orbs stayed untouched.
Final option. Against monsters—or people like that.
As mana returned in thin streams, Ren stared in the direction the nobles had gone.
"They won't expect anyone weaker to be watching," he said quietly.
"And that," he added, voice calm and cold, "is how people like them get killed."
Above the battlefield, unseen by all participants, the viewing board shifted.
Most eyes followed the four nobles.
Only a few lingered briefly on Ren's group—
Before dismissing them.
For now.