The forest fell into a tense hush, the kind that only came before something violent stirred.
Caldus raised a hand, gesturing for them to halt beneath a thicket of twisted roots. Ruva reappeared like a breath of wind, crouching beside him and nodding toward the ridge.
"It's bedding down in a shallow dip. Perfect ambush spot," she whispered. "But it's cautious. Probably already aware of us."
Varek unslung his tower shield from his back, his face all business. "Then we give it a reason to come charging. Pull it into the open."
Kael checked the edge of his curved daggers. "I'll draw it if it hesitates. I've got the speed."
Caldus began to trace symbols in the dirt, slow and precise. "I'll set a mana disruption field near the ridge. It should stagger its charges."
Akito, standing a few paces behind, raised a hand sheepishly. "And I'll… you know… watch. From way over there. Probably behind that nice thick boulder."
"Stay behind cover," Varek said without looking back. "Yell if you see something we don't."
"Roger that, Tank Dad."
Akito crept back to a rocky outcrop, heart pounding—not from fear, but anticipation. He wasn't built for combat, but his analytical mind had kicked into high gear. From his vantage point, he could see the bowl-like depression just over the ridge. Twisted branches surrounded the clearing like a jagged crown.
And nestled in the middle was a beast.
The boar was massive—twice the size of a horse. Its hide was tough and leathery, marred with gnarled scars and pulsing with violet veins that glowed faintly with unstable mana. But what drew Akito's eyes immediately were the tusks.
They weren't bone or ivory.
They were crystalline—translucent, like quartz, catching even the faintest moonlight. Lines of energy flickered within them, like circuits under glass. And as the boar stirred, its muscles tense, those tusks lit up with a subtle electric glow—mana surging through their cores.
It sniffed the air. Snorted. And then—
"Showtime," Kael whispered.
He moved like a whisper, hurling a small mana flare across the boar's line of sight.
The beast roared, eyes flaring, and charged.
Akito watched, wide-eyed, as the plan came to life.
Varek stood tall in the center of the field, shield braced. The ground quaked as the boar barreled toward him—and he met it head-on with an echoing clang that sent dust and leaves flying.
"Varek's aggroing," Akito muttered to himself, eyes scanning every motion. "Classic frontline anchor."
The boar reeled back, tusks sparking against the shield—but didn't fall.
Kael darted in next, twin blades flashing as he carved shallow strikes along its flank. Fast, relentless—always moving. When the boar tried to retaliate, he vanished like a blur, slipping just outside its range.
"Speed tank… no, evasive vanguard," Akito murmured. "He's baiting attacks too fast for it to track."
Ruva's arrows came next, fired in calculated rhythm. Each hit aimed at joints, eyes, and tender flesh. One shot embedded in the beast's shoulder pulsed faintly—a mana tracer, Akito realized, marking the spot.
Caldus followed it with a focused burst of fire.
Boom.
The explosion rocked the beast sideways, forcing it to its knees. But it wasn't down for long.
It roared, then—surprisingly—turned and tried to run.
"Wait… it's retreating?" Akito frowned. "No, that's not right. It's not scared—it's reassessing."
The boar circled wide, snorting aggressively. This time, it didn't charge straight. It began weaving through the trees, faster, smarter.
"They startled it," Akito whispered. "It's not used to coordinated resistance. It's thinking now."
Suddenly, the boar lunged—not at Varek, but at Caldus, who was still preparing another spell.
"Crap," Akito hissed.
But before the tusks could make contact, a blur intercepted the path.
Kael.
He ducked under the attack, one foot sliding in the dirt, and launched himself upward. He kicked off the boar's head, twisting midair, and landed just behind it, daggers flashing in a crosscut.
Caldus exhaled and finished his spell—lances of ice shooting up from the ground, locking the boar's legs.
"Holy crap, they're good," Akito breathed.
The battle moved with practiced rhythm: Varek keeping the boar focused, Kael striking from the edges, Ruva exploiting every weakness with perfect aim, Caldus weaving elemental attacks to control the field.
It wasn't brute force.
It was orchestration.
"They're not just strong," Akito muttered. "They're a damn symphony."
He hunkered down behind the boulder, eyes glowing faintly with interest. This was more than a monster hunt—it was a demonstration. And maybe, just maybe, the beginning of something he needed to understand.
The forest echoed with tension.
Ruva loosed another arrow, this one not aimed to kill—but to provoke. It skimmed the boar's flank, drawing a furious roar. Varek surged forward, slamming his shield against the beast's side with a bone-rattling clang. Caldus muttered another incantation behind cover, releasing a blast of pressurized wind that knocked the creature off balance just as Kael darted past its legs, slicing deep across one of its joints before vanishing again into the brush.
Their coordination was relentless. Every move chained into the next—drawing the boar's attention, punishing its overextensions, and retreating just before it could counter.
They weren't trying to kill it yet. They were driving it.
The boar bellowed, tusks beginning to shimmer—first softly, then with an escalating whine. Transparent crystal hummed as mana surged into them, arcing light between the tips. The glow intensified, forming a visible pulse. It pawed the earth, muscles bunching beneath its corrupted flesh.
Akito's eyes narrowed.
Charging.
He'd seen that glow before—on a much smaller scale. And just as the boar thundered forward with explosive force, everything changed.
Snap.
Thunk.
Boom.
The forest erupted with sudden motion. A volley of logs swung down from above, slamming into the boar's side. A pit just ahead of it opened with a burst of displaced soil, revealing sharpened spikes and anchoring runes. The beast's momentum faltered, its left foreleg caught in a thick snare that yanked taut and flung it sideways into a second trap—a net reinforced with metal hooks and magical glyphs.
Akito blinked.
"That's... my trap?"
The design was unmistakable. The angle, the counterweights, the layout—those were all tweaks he'd experimented with in his smaller snare setups. But this was too big. Too perfect. Too coordinated.
And he hadn't set it.
That's when it clicked.
Kael.
The scout's intro had come a little late. At the time, Akito thought it was just dramatic flair—but now it made sense. The others had distracted him, kept him focused, while Kael vanished into the forest with time to spare.
Not just disarming his own traps near his camp. Rebuilding them. Scaling them up. Weaponizing them.
He must have scout the boar ahead and predict where would the battle be held then build it alone. that would be the only conclusion.
The precision. The understanding. The way it all came together.
Akito felt the rush of admiration tug at his lips.
"No wonder there isn't a trap triggered when we goes to my camp earlier. That sly bastard also reverse-engineered my work," he muttered, half laughing. "Even upgraded it."
The boar writhed, snarling, its tusks discharging uncontrolled arcs of mana into the ensnaring net. But it was cornered now—its strength pitted against a battlefield designed around its downfall.
This wasn't just a battle.
It was a masterclass.
Akito's grip tightened around the rock beside him as he watched. Not with fear—but with awe.
This… is what it means to be an adventurer here.
And for the first time, he didn't feel like just a spectator.
He felt like part of something bigger.