The Wilds did not yield ground easily.

  For three days, Kaelen, Roric, and Vex moved without roads, following terrain the way predators did—ridges instead of valleys, wind instead of scent, silence instead of speed.

  Snow came and went, sometimes melting under Kaelen’s boots, sometimes crunching loud enough to earn him a sharp glance from Vex.

  “You hear that?” Vex muttered once.

  Kaelen slowed instantly.

  “No,” Kaelen replied.

  “Exactly.”

  They adjusted their pace.

  The first Ni beast found them at dusk on the second day.

  It burst from the treeline without warning—a Cragmaw, all jagged stone plates and too many limbs, its Ni core glowing faintly through cracks in its chest.

  It roared as it charged, shaking frost from the branches.

  Kaelen moved before Roric could speak.

  Lightning snapped around his legs as he slid sideways, shadow folding under his feet to redirect his momentum. The Cragmaw slammed into empty air.

  Kaelen countered with blood-enhanced speed, leaping high and driving a lightning-wreathed kick into the creature’s neck joint.

  Stone shattered.

  The beast reeled.

  It adapted fast.

  A stone limb whipped toward Kaelen’s ribs—

  Shadow flared.

  Kaelen vanished a step to the left, reappearing mid-spin. He drove his palm into the Cragmaw’s chest and released lightning point-blank.

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  The beast convulsed, Ni destabilizing.

  It collapsed in a shower of stone and steam.

  Kaelen stood over it, chest rising slowly.

  Roric stepped forward—not to praise him.

  Instead, the Blood Knight plunged a knife into the corpse and twisted. The glow in the Cragmaw’s chest dimmed as Roric extracted the pulsing Ni core, holding it up to the fading light.

  “Good kill,” Roric said. “But you don’t keep these.”

  Kaelen frowned. “Why?”

  Vex answered as he wrapped the core in cloth.

  “Because you’re not here to farm power. You’re here to learn how to use what you already have.”

  Kaelen nodded once and said nothing.

  The second beast came the next morning.

  A Mist-Tail Lynx, half-phase, half-flesh, stalking them from fog-covered ground.

  It attacked from behind, claws passing through stone, teeth snapping inches from Kaelen’s throat.

  This time, Kaelen didn’t rush.

  He let it strike.

  Shadow wrapped his spine as the lynx’s claws passed through where he had been. Blood surged through his arms as he caught the creature mid-lunge, lightning snapping outward in a controlled burst.

  The lynx screamed—

  Then fell silent.

  Again, Roric took the core.

  Again, Kaelen watched.

  By the third day, it was happening naturally.

  Kaelen fought.

  Roric harvested.

  Vex observed.

  No commentary. No correction. Just pressure.

  By the time they reached the ambush zone, Kaelen felt different.

  Not stronger.

  Sharper.

  They reached the ridge overlooking the trade road several hours before sunset.

  Below them, the path curved between broken stone outcroppings and dead trees—a natural choke point.

  Perfect.

  Roric crouched and studied the terrain.

  “They’ll come from the east. Caravan first. Bandits ten minutes later.”

  Vex glanced at Kaelen.

  “This is where you change.”

  Kaelen looked up. “How?”

  Roric’s eyes hardened.

  “No weapons.”

  Kaelen blinked. “What?”

  “None,” Vex said calmly. “No spear. No blades. No whip.”

  Roric stood, towering.

  “Only your Ni. Lightning. Blood. Shadow.”

  Kaelen’s jaw tightened. “Against bandits?”

  “Against men,” Roric corrected. “With fear. With blades. With numbers.”

  Vex leaned closer.

  “Weapons make distance. We want you to feel proximity.”

  Kaelen exhaled slowly.

  He reached behind him.

  The spear vanished into the ring.

  Then the daggers.

  Then the whip.

  He stood empty-handed in the cold.

  Lightning flickered faintly around his fingers—then stilled as he brought it under control.

  Blood Ni hummed quietly under his skin.

  Shadows pooled at his feet like patient things.

  Roric nodded once.

  “Good.”

  They melted into position.

  Far off, dust rose on the eastern road.

  The caravan was coming.

  And shortly after it—

  So were the bandits.

  Kaelen settled into a crouch, breath steady, heart calm.

  No weapons.

  Only himself.

  And whatever survived him.