Chapter 122: Return to Camp
Their time in the frostmaws' hunting grounds didn't drag on. After a few more kills, Arden raised his hand, fire still smoldering on his palm.
"That's enough for today," he said, his tone carrying more weight than debate. "Remember, the envoy expects us before sundown. If we push longer, we'll be late."
Rael wiped his gauntlet with a flick, sparks of lightning still crackling along it. "Shame. I was just getting warmed up."
"You're always warmed up," Nyra muttered, adjusting her staff. The faint glow of ice clung to its edges as she dispelled the last of her magic.
Zephyra let out a low gust through her nostrils, flame simmering faintly between her fangs. "Hunt ends. Report waits."
They agreed with reluctant nods and began to make their way south, leaving behind the frozen battlefield.
None of them doubted they could return tomorrow, but Arden had already decided they wouldn't.
There were other areas to probe, and he was confident the source of the berserk wasn't here.
It wasn't mere confidence though, it was drawn from patterns he'd pieced together through the day. The frostmaws grew wild as they pressed north, their frenzy sharper, more mindless. But further south the madness thinned.
Their aggression lessened, and some even hesitated before attacking, as if the storm raging in their blood had weakened.
Arden had seen enough to believe the heart of the corruption lay elsewhere.
"We've got something to work with," he said as they moved. "The frenzy's not random. The further south we pressed, the weaker it became. The source isn't here."
Nyra tilted her head. "Then tomorrow, we aim elsewhere?"
"Yes," Arden replied. "But tonight, we report. That comes first."
The path back was steady, lined with the occasional frostbeast that strayed too close. None slowed them down.
But each was cut down with brutal efficiency, Rael's attacks weaving arcs of lightning, Nyra's ice bursting to shards, Arden's fire burning through the air, and Zephyra's gusts scattering flames to finish them off. By the time the camp's torches came into view, their pace had quickened.
The envoy's tent loomed large at the center, banners flapping in the chilled wind. Arden could see shadows moving within. The Crimson Fang had already returned, their voices carried faintly from inside, smug and loud.
"Perfect," Rael muttered, rolling his shoulders. "They'll love that we're late."
They stepped into the tent, the heavy flap parting. Four pairs of sharp eyes turned to greet them.
Kaelen, tall with red hair tied back, smirked as his hand rested on the hilt of his blade. "Thought we'd lost you. Another hour and we'd have sent word that the frostmaws ate you whole."
Selira leaned against the table, sparks flickering around her fingertips. "Would've been a shame to end your trial on the first day."
Doran said nothing, but his eyes gleamed from the shadows of his hood, restless, measuring.
Lysandra, bow slung over her shoulder, smiled faintly. "Late and alive. That's almost respectable."
Rael snorted. "Respectable's a word for people who don't have to prove themselves twice." He leaned forward slightly, grin sharp. "You didn't send word because you thought we were dead. You stayed quiet because you didn't want to be compared when we walked back in breathing."
The tent grew tense at once. Kaelen's smirk faltered, Selira's sparks hissed louder, and Lysandra's chin tilted higher.
Arden stepped past Rael, calm as ever. "Relax. We're not here to pick fights with other hunters. Save that for the beasts." His eyes slid briefly to Kaelen, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Though, if you're this eager to bury us, I wonder if it's because you're afraid we'll outpace you."
Kaelen bristled, but before he could snap back, one of the envoys raised his voice.
"You're late," the man said flatly, seated at the center table with others beside him. His robes carried the insignia of the explorers guild, and his tone leaving no room for excuses.
Arden dipped his head slightly. "We pushed deeper than expected. Got caught in the rhythm of the hunt. My apologies."
The envoy gave a curt nod. "Very well. We're taking reports. The Crimson Fang has already shared theirs."
At that, Kaelen shifted uncomfortably. The envoy's gaze hardened. "They found nothing. Only more of the same rapid attacks, heightened aggression. Nothing worth carrying forward."
The Crimson Fang looked away. Even Selira's usual fire dimmed.
"And you?" the envoy asked, turning to Arden.
Arden clasped his hands behind his back. "The aggression is true. The beasts are madder the deeper you press. But it's not without pattern. Southward, the frenzy lessened. Their attacks slowed. We marked the difference.
If the cause is in the pattern we assume, then narrowing the source is only a matter of time."
The envoy's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed in approval. "Good. Very good. You've done more than expected for a first day. Such observation will serve not only this trial, but the kingdom itself. Mark this, what you've begun is the foundation of your name."
The other envoys murmured their agreement. Praise rolled through the table like a rising tide.
Behind Arden, Rael grinned openly. Nyra's lips curved faintly, and even Zephyra gave a low growl of approval.
The Crimson Fang, though, boiled in silence. Kaelen's fists clenched, and Selira's sparks snapped against the air. Lysandra's jaw tightened, her pride stung by the envoy's words.
Arden bowed his head politely, though his voice carried enough edge to cut. "We're only doing what we must. Still, it's encouraging to know our efforts are recognized."
The envoys smiled, taking his words at face value.
But the Crimson Fang heard the jab beneath it, and when Arden straightened, there was a smirk on his face that sealed it.
Rael let out a soft chuckle, and Nyra shook her head as though trying to hide hers.
The envoy dismissed them both soon after. "You've done well today. Do better tomorrow. Report back at the same time."
The Crimson Fang left stiffly, anger practically dripping from their boots. Arden's party followed, though with far lighter steps.
As they crossed the camp toward their own tent, Rael stretched his arms. "I swear, if Kaelen glares at me one more time, I'm going to roast him myself."
"You won't need to," Arden replied, voice calm, yet carrying that faint amusement of his. "He'll trip over his own pride before long."
Zephyra rumbled, her eyes gleaming faintly. "Weak prey bite loud. Strong prey bite once."
Rael laughed. "See? Even Zephyra gets it."
Nyra sighed, but her lips curved softly. "Let's just rest. Tomorrow will be harder."
Arden glanced back toward the envoy's tent, where the Crimson Fang lingered outside, their anger simmering. He shook his head lightly and kept walking.
Tomorrow would indeed be harder. But tonight, their victory wasn't just over beasts.
A/N:
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