The fog had not lifted. If anything, it had deepened overnight, settling like a suffocating blanket across the forest. Even the birds were quiet this morning.
Auther sat cross-legged at the edge of camp, eyes closed, his mana gently circulating. The cold ground pressed against him, but he didn't notice. He was deep in thought, still replaying yesterday's fight.
Veyra's strike. Her eyes. That unnatural pressure that had briefly radiated from her body.
It wasn't just instinct.
Something had stirred inside her. A sliver of hidden potential, old and dangerous.
He opened his system screen for the third time that morning.
[SP: 53]
Still not enough for the next E-rank skill he was planning. But he was close. With a few more E3 kills or something stronger, he could finally afford Mana Reinforcement — a passive enhancement skill designed to multiply his physical and magical output simultaneously.
But right now, his mind wasn't on skills or upgrades.
It was on Veyra.
She stood at the treeline again, silent, unmoving. As if waiting for something. Her crimson eyes scanned the fog-covered marshes, her hand loosely resting on the staff strapped to her back.
Yesterday, when she struck that mutated bear down, it hadn't been just strength. It had been… violence. Elegant, precise, overwhelming violence. And the faint glow in her eyes — he was sure now — hadn't been caused by any skill.
It had been bloodline instinct.
A latent inheritance clawing its way toward the surface.
---
"You slept less than me," Lyra said, dropping beside him with a grin. "Worrying about our little prodigy?"
Auther glanced at her. "You saw it too."
"Yeah. Hard to miss when someone casually knocks out a 600-pound bear monster with a single strike."
She offered him a canteen, and he took a sip. The water was warm and tasted faintly of herbs. Elira's doing, most likely.
"You think it's a bloodline?" Lyra asked.
"Almost certainly."
"Vampire?" she guessed.
"Maybe. Or something else. The problem is, we don't know what kind."
Lyra leaned back on her elbows. "She's not exactly chatty about her past."
Auther sighed. "It's her right. But if it awakens mid-battle again and she loses control..."
"We could lose her," Lyra finished, voice softer now.
Auther didn't answer. The weight in his chest was answer enough.
---
Later that morning, they packed up and moved eastward, following the marsh trail marked by the Awakeners' Association. The path was flooded in some places, forcing them to take narrow detours through half-submerged roots and misty thickets.
They encountered no monsters. Not yet.
Auther led them with steady steps, his senses expanded. The ambient mana felt wrong. Not aggressive — just… tense. As if waiting.
After half an hour of slow progress, they reached a sunken village swallowed by reeds and water. Stone houses, long collapsed, jutted like broken teeth from the marsh. A crooked tower leaned against the horizon.
Auther held up a hand.
"Stop."
The girls froze instantly.
He crouched near a warped tree stump and brushed the wet moss aside. Beneath it lay a tangle of cracked bones and rusted metal — gear, partially melted. Recently burned.
"Fire magic?" Lyra asked.
"No." Auther tapped the charred edges. "Corrupted mana. Mutants fought here… not long ago."
Veyra stepped closer and knelt silently. She stared at the remains for a long moment, then looked eastward, past the ruins.
"I hear something," she murmured.
They listened. Faint scratching, almost like something dragging through wet stone.
Then a snarl.
Auther drew his sword without a word.
The monster burst out of the half-flooded house — a grotesque hound, twice the size of a horse, with skin peeled in places and bones growing over its body like armor. Its jaws unhinged wide enough to bite a tree in half.
Rank: E9.
"Formation!" Auther shouted.
Elira moved first, casting a speed buff on Lyra and a thin protective barrier over Veyra. Lyra darted left, drawing the hound's attention with a dagger toss that struck between its malformed eyes.
It roared.
Veyra didn't move.
"Veyra, now!" Auther ordered.
She didn't seem to hear.
Then her body trembled.
Auther's eyes widened. He saw it. Her skin shimmered faintly, and for just a second, a sigil glowed on her shoulder — like a tattoo etched in silver flame. Her aura expanded, raw and unstable.
The hound leapt at her.
Veyra raised her hand.
BOOM.
The air cracked. The force of her strike sent the beast skidding across the flooded path, its armored hide shattered in several places.
She blinked. Her eyes returned to normal.
She swayed.
Auther was already moving. He caught her before she collapsed, her breathing ragged.
"I… didn't mean to…" she whispered.
"I know," he said softly, helping her to sit. "You tapped into it. You held it back. That's good."
The hound roared again — wounded, not dead.
Lyra was already there, eyes burning with fury.
"Stay down," she growled at Veyra. "Let me handle the rest."
Auther joined her.
Together, they struck — Lyra distracting, weaving, while Auther delivered the final blow with a reinforced Mana Edge, slicing through the beast's core and ending it with a flash of light.
The monster slumped, steaming, dead.
Auther panted, his arms trembling slightly. Lyra stood beside him, her daggers dripping.
They didn't speak.
Not yet.
---
They set camp in the ruins. Elira bandaged Veyra's arms, whispering softly to her while she rested.
Auther sat nearby, eyes on the fire, deep in thought.
Her bloodline wasn't dormant anymore. It was awakening. And she had no control over it.
It was powerful. Too powerful for her current rank.
He opened his system.
[SP: 58]
That fight had pushed him closer. But it wasn't enough.
He needed stronger skills.
Stronger allies.
Lyra approached, dropping beside him with her usual grin — though it was weaker now.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I will be," he said. "We all need to get stronger. Fast."
She nodded. "You still thinking about her bloodline?"
"Every second."
Lyra hesitated. "When it awakens fully… what if it changes her?"
Auther looked at the fire, face unreadable.
"Then I'll bring her back."