They did not rest.

  For two days, the Wilds blurred past them—frozen streams leapt in a single bound, dead forests ghosted by in streaks of shadow, jagged ridgelines crossed at a pace that would have broken ordinary men.

  Kaelen felt it before he saw it.

  Smoke.

  Fear.

  Steel on wood.

  They crested the final rise as the caravan came into view—wagons ringed in chaos, guards pinned or down, twenty bandits swarming.

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  And above it all—

  Five figures stood on a rocky hill to the east.

  Still.

  Watching.

  Roric’s voice was a low growl.

  “That’s your field.”

  Vex’s eyes gleamed.

  “Weapons only. Katana and whip. No spear. No daggers.”

  Kaelen nodded once.

  Roric cracked his knuckles.

  “We’ll take the hill. No one leaves.”

  They vanished.

  Then—

  [SYSTEM NOTICE]

  The world seemed to pause.

  [SYSTEM: VOLKOV CONDUCTOR]

  [OBJECTIVE ASSIGNED]

  Protect Caravan

  Eliminate Hostile Forces

  Bandits Neutralized: 0 / 20

  [REWARD]

  — Instant Level Increase

  — Mastery Progression Across All Active Disciplines

  Kaelen’s lips curved.

  He drew Veil.

  Uncoiled Lash.

  Lightning stirred—contained.

  Blood Ni hummed—disciplined.

  Shadow crept along his boots.

  He leaned forward.

  And ran.

  The dance had begun.