They regrouped slowly. First it was Bral and Idin who found each other, making their way through the thick brush. Both of them looked a bit roughed up—torn sleeves, dirt on their faces, small scrapes—but nothing serious.
"You alright?" Bral asked, brushing a branch aside as they found a clearer trail.
"Yeah, considering that it didn't even chase me, I'm doing fine," Idin grumbled, dusting his shirt. "But yeah. You?"
"Got my boots soaked running through a bog. Smell that?" Bral lifted one leg and sniffed with a grimace. "It's like the dog came back from the dead and died again in my shoe."
They pushed through another tangle of branches and finally stepped into a clearing—Bao and Pao were already there.
Pao looked up the moment she heard footsteps. "Is Amukelo with you?" She asked worryingly.
"No," Bral said. "We haven't seen him."
Pao's heart plummeted. "We need to find him."
Bao stepped in, placing a hand lightly on her sister's shoulder. "We just reunited. Give it a little time, Pao. He lured that thing away, remember? It's only natural he shows up later."
"But how?" she said, hugging her staff to her chest. "How will we even find him in this place?"
Bao gave her a look—flat and direct. "Calm down. We will. If anyone can survive in the wild, it's him."
Pao opened her mouth to protest again, but her sister's firm gaze quieted her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly nodded. "Okay…"
But before the tension could settle, Bral let out a laugh. Then Idin snorted. The two broke into soft, full-throated chuckles.
Bao turned on them, arms crossed. "What's so funny?"
Bral wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. "I can't, I really can't. The way these two care about each other—it's just as adorable as it is hilarious. It's like watching a romance novel where both main characters are too emotionally constipated to say anything. Amukelo acts exactly the same way about her."
Pao's cheeks flushed a brilliant pink. "I—I'm not—!" she tried to argue, but looked away, biting her lip and pulling her hood down slightly over her face.
Then a voice cut through the woods. "About what?"
They all turned. Standing just past the trees, slightly disheveled but very much alive, was Amukelo.
Pao's blush went from pink to crimson in an instant, and she spun around with her back to him. Bao facepalmed.
Bral and Idin grinned like boys caught stealing sweets.
Amukelo looked between them, genuinely confused. "What's going on?"
"How did you find us so easily?" Bral asked, folding his arms with mock suspicion.
Amukelo stepped forward, rubbing the back of his head. "I heard laughter from some distance away. Thought, 'yep, that's them.'"
"Laughing at your expense," Idin said helpfully.
"What were you talking about?" Amukelo asked again, squinting slightly.
Then Pao turned to face him fully and gasped. "Your arm! It's healed! Are you okay? What happened to the monster? What happened to you?"
He blinked, taken aback by the barrage of questions, and chuckled. "I'm okay. I mean—it was terrifying. I thought I could at least lure it into the woods and slow it down, but nope. It barely even noticed the trees."
He motioned loosely with his arm. "It almost caught me a few times. I only managed to lose it because it doesn't track well—no sense of smell, I think. I climbed into a thick canopy and just waited there for almost an hour until it gave up."
Pao took a half-step closer, frowning deeply. "And your arm?"
Amukelo shrugged, then winced slightly. "Healing potion. Didn't know how long it would take to find you again, and traveling injured… Well, let's just say I've been through that before."
His eyes darkened for a brief second, as if remembering something far worse.
Pao softened. "You're still in pain."
"Yeah," he said. "I can move it. It'll heal properly with time."
Without another word, Pao pulled her staff and mumbled something. A warm, soft green glow surrounded her staff. She placed it lightly over his arm, and a brighter surge of light pulsed.
Amukelo blinked. "Hey, I said I'm fine."
"And I said don't scare me like that again," she huffed, cheeks puffed out.
He laughed, raising his uninjured hand in surrender. "Alright, alright. I guess we're even now."
She smiled—just faintly—but it was the kind of smile that lingered even after it faded from her lips.
Idin leaned toward Bral and whispered, "I give them two more weeks before one of them blurts it out."
"Two?" Bral smirked. "You're optimistic."
Pao turned back to them. "You're talking about us again, aren't you?"
Bral raised both hands. "Who, us? Nooo."
Amukelo grinned. "Probably."
Pao crossed her arms, but her expression was more amused than angry. "You people are unbearable."
For the next few days, their journey felt more like a trial than travel. They encountered monsters far more aggressive than anything they'd fought before.
One morning, as they moved cautiously through a narrow pass, a sudden rumble echoed through the trees. They stopped. The ground trembled, and then three red landwyrms burst from between the rocks ahead. Behind them, a massive white landwyrm emerged—larger, faster, and far more intelligent in its movement.
Amukelo barely whispered, "A white one…"
They had no time to run. Flanking wasn't an option. The landwyrms boxed them in.
"Red ones first," Idin said quickly, already moving to intercept one of them.
The battle was brutal. The red wyrms were aggressive, fast, and worked with alarming coordination. Pao's spells bound one in place while Bao pinned another with precise arrows. Bral distracted the third with a barrage of fire attacks while Idin tried to distract one long enough to give others time to defeat other landwyrms.
Amukelo dealt with it, giving others space to deal with the red ones. But he slammed Amukelo with its back and charged at the group. Bral was nearly crushed, his left leg only saved by a sudden telekinetic shove that knocked him out of its charge path. Pao's chains held it briefly, and Amukelo delivered several rapid slashes. The white wyrm fought to the end, but ultimately, outnumbered and worn down, it collapsed with a final roar.
Another time, they stumbled upon a golem standing in the ruins of an old tower. It didn't move at first—its body fused with the crumbling stone, moss and vines half-burying its shoulders.
Bral stepped forward, curious. "Looks dormant."
Then it moved, and the ground groaned beneath its steps.
"Run," Amukelo said flatly.
And they did. Unlike the Mosshide Trampler, this thing didn't sprint. It lumbered, and after a few minutes of dodging through thick forest, they lost it. Still, even Amukelo was out of breath. "Remind me why we aren't just doing quests in safe towns again?"
"Because this makes great stories," Bral answered with a grin.
Amukelo just groaned.
Over the next days, they encountered monsters that tested their decision-making more than their strength. A pack of black-mane wolves with bright green eyes stalked them through the fog one morning. Another day, a swarm of insect-like creatures with razor limbs swarmed their camp, forcing them to relocate at midnight.
Every time, they adapted. Escaped. Or, when necessary, fought their way through.
Eventually, they arrived at a modest village tucked between cliffs and thick woods. It was small—just a few dozen homes with stone chimneys puffing smoke, and a single wooden palisade that barely stood. The terrain around it was more forgiving, and for the first time in a while, they heard birdsong instead of growling.
Bral stretched his arms and let out a long, overexaggerated sigh. "Well, maybe it's not the glorious town we aimed for, but after that death run through monster country, I vote we stay here at least a few days."
Amukelo rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. "You know, this travel reminds me a little of living in the wild. The kind of misery I'd almost forgotten."
Idin, exhausted and irritable, snapped, "You know what I haven't forgotten? That we only wanted to travel after reaching Silver Rank Seven. That's supposed to mean we're strong enough to handle anything in Elandria, right?"
Bral nodded, seemingly proud. "Exactly."
"And yet we've almost died, what, three times in a week?"
"Four, if you count the golem," Bao added dryly.
Amukelo joined in, arms crossed. "So tell me, Bral. Why are we on a path that makes me think about my own funeral every day?"
Bral shrugged with a grin. "We're growing stronger, aren't we?"
Bao raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. At running away."
Idin put his hands on his face and dragged them down slowly. "You truly will be the death of us, Bral."
"Someone has to make your life interesting."
"Let's just find the pub," Idin groaned. "I'm tired of this bread."