You're right. My apologies. I deviated from the structure and added new material. Let me provide a true rewrite that fol
Two days passed in blood and silence.
Each morning, Yan Shen and Ji Suyin rose with the mist. They spoke little. A glance, a nod, and they moved. The hunt had established its own rhythm: track the packs, strike, move. Their steps were efficient, their movements clean. The forest floor darkened with each hour, stained and churned.
On the first day, they culled sixty-one.
On the second, sixty-five.
Bodies accumulated. Tusked skulls split. Fur matted with earth and gore. Beast cores were pulled warm from flesh and deposited into pouches. Ji Suyin changed her robe twice, the sleeves permanently stained. Yan Shen's fists progressed from bruised to raw to steady again, his body adapting beneath the repeated stress.
Ji Suyin had grown sharper.
Her strikes no longer carried hesitation. She met each charge without flinching, her counters landing without wasted motion. By the second morning, she matched Yan Shen's pace, cutting down boars before a warning could be sounded. Her blade had found its purpose.
The packs appeared faster. Closer together. Some charged in coordinated groups. A few began to retreat. Most advanced, driven not by blind instinct, but by a deeper compulsion. Loyalty. Loyalty to something they had not yet seen.
This fact occupied the space between Yan Shen and Ji Suyin's thoughts:
The Boar Lord never came.
Not once.
They found the den near sunset on the second day.
The ridge dipped into a wide, uneven hollow, choked with clawleaf vines and gnarled roots. The ground was stamped flat, a dozen paths worn deep into the soil from constant passage. The air hung thick with musk, old blood, and a richer, cloying scent, like overripe herbs left to bake in the sun.
At the basin's center, nestled against a sloped rise, was the mouth of the den.
A jagged opening, dark and silent. The earth around it was flattened into a chaotic spiral, as if hundreds of beasts had circled for years, never questioning who commanded the path.
They crouched at the hollow's edge, behind a low ridge of broken stone. Shadows stretched long as the last light vanished behind the trees.
Ji Suyin spoke first, her voice soft. "I have a bad feeling."
Yan Shen said nothing, his eyes fixed on the dark opening below.
"We've wiped out so many of his pack," she said. "And he's let it happen." A pause. "You know what that means."
Yan Shen gave a slight nod.
She glanced at him. "He's not like the others. He doesn't need the pack anymore."
A heavy moment passed between them, unspoken.
Ji Suyin turned her eyes back to the den. "Moonroot. Plenty of it, if the air's anything to go by." She drew a slow, steady breath. "Old root. Dense."
Yan Shen's face remained still, but his jaw tightened minutely.
"He's been feeding," she added. "And mating. That kind of quiet isn't hesitation. It's confidence."
She said nothing more.
She didn't need to.
That night, they built no fire.
They spoke only when necessary. No wasted words. Only preparation.
The soft rasp of cloth being wrapped around fists. The whisper of a blade being checked. Breathing kept low and steady. Overhead, the stars were sharp in a cloudless sky. The den below remained still,dark and patient, as if it held all the time in the world.
When the first light touched the ridge, they rose together.
Ji Suyin tightened her boots and slid her sword free in one smooth, silent motion. Her eyes were clear, alert. The edge of caution remained; she hadn't let it dull.
Yan Shen adjusted the last of his bindings and looked at her.
"I'll go in first," he said. "If the Boar Lord appears, I'll deal with him." He held her gaze. "Stay on the outside. Don't get drawn in. If something feels off, pull back. I don't want you getting injured."
She raised an eyebrow. "You giving me orders now?"
"I'm asking you to be smart," he replied.
Her lips curved, not quite a smile, but its echo. "Fine. I'll watch your back. But if he starts tearing you apart, I'm not standing around doing nothing."
Yan Shen didn't answer.
He turned toward the den and began walking.
She followed a step behind.