Chương 55: THE AWAKENED TIDE

The air was thick and cold, saturated with the pungent scent of pine resin and damp, decaying leaf litter. It was well into the night, and the moon was obscured by a heavy layer of cloud, but Roric and his group, being Hunters, knew how to navigate the forest trails regadless, making use of thier hightened Flow senses. Besides that, fireflies illuminated thier path and some of the more ancient tree glowed faintly after absorbing an amount of Flow over a period. Roric moved at the head of the five-man task force.

He was clad in his usual slevless black top and baggy pants with a cloth tied around the waist. His axe strapped to his back and his pendant dangled over his chest as he walked. The atmosphere and a breeze blew thriugh the trees, causing hier leaves to rustle but as one Ascended, their bodies changed and made them stronger and more immune to physical elements. As one of the three Saints currently in Blackhaven, he barely felt the cold The weather was all the same to him.

His companions however, being of lower stages wore jackets over thier patrol leathers. Winter was approaching. Roric's initial assignment was to secretly search for a beast that Elias had inadvertantly senses. The idea was that it could be an awakened beast or higher that could cause damage to the city. He however found nothing and so wanted to report that maye the boy had seen something else.

However, a week after the session with his two students where he eliminated an Awakened Bear, a new reports were being made about an unprecedented spike in Awakened sightings. He had given the two children an week of and he himself was mostly at home with his daughter so it was surprising thing to learn immediatly he returned to the bureau. Due to the nature of evolution, the 'Awakened' stage was where beast had a lot of turbulence withen them being docile in one minute and extremely agressive the next.

The destination for that evenings expedition was an area not that far from the Iron Forest, where hunters had reported a swath of forest violently leveled and several large animals found dead with unnatural wounds. The hypothesis was that whatever caused the damage resided in the node and only came out at certain times and return. They didn't know why these creatures came out at that time and thats why they staked it out in order to ascertain and if possible contain them.

Following Roric were four experienced Blackwood hunters: Wilcris, a gruff veteran at the Votary Stage; Lysle, the nervous but sharp tracker also a Votary; Fenn, a young, quiet archer who was an Acolyte; and Old Garret, who had seen more things die in the forest than anyone, a Votary as well. They moved in a loose wedge formation, their heavy boots making soft, rhythmic thuds on the forest floor. The silence, broken only by the snap of a dry twig, was oppressive.

"This quiet is worse than my wife's nagging," Wilcris grumbled, adjusting the heavy sword slung across his back.

"Nothing is worse than your wife's nagging," Old Garret said jokingly, his voice dry like dead leaves." It's a wonder you've survived this long under such harsh conditions."

"Right?" Wilcris whined in agreement.

"I'll tell her what you just said and see what she thinks."

"Wanna die early old man?"

"Not if she kills you first." Lysle, nervously checking the small, silver tracking device on his belt, decided to break the quarrel with a topic.

"Did anyone hear the news from Oakhes this week?" Roric, without turning, confirmed.

"Yeah, Elara settled the Union dispute. Temporarily."

"Temporarily is the key word." Lysle sighed.

"Also, it kinda makes me jealous how casually you can address the Lord and Lady."

"Of course. Ater all they were classmates at Fazhan University." Fenn quitely responded. Roric chuckled." Well my wife runs the trade stall near the western gate and goes over to Oakhes to restock. She said the price of iron goods from Nordhelm is up fifty percent in Crown Solars because of the Free Guild's price hike. Then the Trade Union retaliated by raising the price of local Blackwood lumber sold in Pounds." Wilcris said.

"It's crushing the small merchants," Garett added, his voice low.

"My son-in-law, a small-time furrier, can barely afford to convert his earnings back to the Crown Solar without the conversion tax eating his profit. Now he can't buy me anything." Wilcris spat and eyed Garett. Stolen novel; please report.

"What?'' The old man asked, feigning ignorance.

"It's a war fought with coin, but we're the ones bleeding the currency. That five-to-one conversion rate is just a formality now. The Standard Pound dictates the market, and the Trade Union is making us pay for the Crown's pride." Lysle said shaking his head. Roric finally spoke, his deep voice carrying a quiet authority.

"The financial war is just the surface. This pressure is tied directly to the instability in Aethelburg."

"The King," Old Garret muttered, leaning heavily on his staff.

"If he falls, the whole game changes. The Privy Council has already broken into factions, just waiting for an opportunity."

"It has," Roric confirmed.

"They are forming alliances and taking sides. The financial skirmish between the Union and the Guild is as a result of the Coulcil's attention being directed towards power should the king die of his ailment. I'm sure there are even some of them who wish to use the financial battle avvross the continent to their advantage."

"And there are twelve potential heirs," Wilcrs said, shaking his head.

"Twelve privilaged brats who all hate each other. Honestly, if things go south I'll move to a remote country like Xylos with my wife."

"Sure you can make it that far without her nagging you to death?" Garett said putting his hands behind his head and looking up at nothing in particular. Wilcris took a step towards him but Lysle held him back with a hand and a nervous smile while Fenn distanced himself.

"You guys, is the the Twelfth Prince still a candidate? I heard he's around the same age as Roric's daughter."

"He is still technically a candidate," Roric confirmed.

"But he's practically kept under house arrest, never seen in public like his older siblings unless the situation demands it."

"Personally I think its good that way," Wilcris said darkly.

"A kid that young should stay away from something as dark as politics."

"Or, they're protecting themselves from him." Fenn added in a quite voice. Silence fell as a breeze blew.

"There you go again with your conspiracy theories. Is that all you silent types think about?" Garett said.

"Whats the next one? You suddenly getting a girlfriend?'' It was Lysle's turn to step away while Wilcris restrained Fenn. Old Garret tapped his staff twice on a tree they passed.

"Anyway, Who is quietly nurturing the last, uncorrupted seed? By all means someone would take advantage of the fact that he's a young, inexperienced variable, like a puppeteer with his marioinette."

"Whoever backing the Twelfth Prince is playing a long game," Roric concluded.

"A very long game." Lysle suddenly remembered a tidbit of gossip.

"Speaking of, I hear things are especially bad in the land ruled by Lord Amberose." Wilcris spat on the ground in disgust.

"Amberose. The pompous goat. He's the one most at loggerheads with our Lord Alaric. Always trying to take advantage of us here in Blackwood."

"Aye," Old Garret agreed solemnly.

"Since we're seperating his territory from Nordhelm and Kemet he wants to pressure us into trade taxes, reckless resource depletion, and military solutions. Everything our Lord opposes." The Hunters collectively shifted their weapons, a low murmur of appreciation passing between them.

"We are lucky, truly," Lysle stated, feeling genuine conviction.

"To have Lord Alaric and Lady Elara ruling us. They fight for the region's stability. Lord Alaric is doing everything he can in the Privy Council to prevent the entire kingdom from eating itself." Roric nodded, acknowledging their respect with a grim sense of shared duty. They had reached the investigation site. Roric raised a hand, stopping the group. The air here was palpably colder, the Flow vibrating with unnatural intensity. The destruction was immediately apparent and severe.

A clearing had been created fifty meters across had been violently torn open, not by fire or chopping, but by colossal, brute force. Massive trees were snapped in half, the bark stripped clean, their broken trunks scattered like splintered bones. The earth was cratered and churned, with dark, unidentifiable fluid staining the upturned soil.

"What the hell," Wilcris whispered, his eyes wide." It's like a small, localized hurricane tore through here."

"We can confirm that whatever did this was very large," Old Garret whispered as he gripped his staff. Roric knelt, touching the cold, upturned dirt. He focused his deep experience, identifying massive, irregular gouges in the earth.

"Whatever it was, it used incredible, sustained physical strength. This level of power is rare, even among Awakened. We need to find its trail, and fast." A sound, heavy and wet, scraped through the dense thicket of intact trees across the clearing. The five men instantly tensed, dropping into silent, low crouches as the ground began to shake with a rhythmic, heavy thudding that grew exponentially louder. Roric looked up as the first of the creatures tore out of the trees. Suddenly, the thicket of trees exploded.

This was not a single beast. It was a herd—a mass of Awakened Creatures all of which where over eight feet tall with thick hide and barbed Ivoy horns. Roric immediatly recognised them as the same type that awakened bear had killed. They tore through the forest in a desperate, panicked rush, their passage instantly transforming the remaining trees into a shower of splintered wood and leaves.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Roric roared, his voice cutting through the thundering noise. He looked at the sheer number—a coordinated, massive movement never before seen. The hunters broke formation, jumping violently to the side as the tide of maddened beasts surged past the clearing, their single-minded velocity terrifying.

Roric narrowly avoided the horn of one of them, rolling hard and coming up with his axe instantly aimed at the herd's flank, already barking orders to force the herd toward a more manageable, narrow pass. From a distance, hidden high in the shadows of an ancient, triple-crowned pine tree, Elias watched the chaotic scene unfold. He was dressed in dark, non-reflective clothes, his body completely still. He opened his mouth to speak but a soft, cool hand instantly clamped over his mouth.

He glared at the person from the corner of his eye. A ring on the person pinky finger reflected moonlight as the clouds released their grip and the world was illuminated.