The thunder of the herd grew by the second.

  Across the wide stretch of open plains, the river churned violently as massive shapes rose from beneath

  the surface. First a few. Then dozens. Then well over two hundred armored beasts dragging themselves

  out of the deep water. Their bulk was tremendous, their muscled frames covered in overlapping plates

  of natural armor so thick it reflected the sunlight like dull, wet metal.

  Pachydurs.

  T3C and T3G durability types.

  Semi aquatic tanks renowned for being almost impossible to kill cleanly.

  The ground vibrated under their weight. Every step sent tremors rolling through the grass.

  Tyrish drew both of his zweihanders and spun one in a quick circle. “Finally,” he said. “Something with

  meat on it.”

  Orran steadied his shield. “Be careful. Their charge will break you in half if you get sloppy.”

  Vanra lifted her staff and her voice cut through the rising rumble of the plains. “Do not assume Blue

  means easy. We treat this like a Black portal engagement. Focus, discipline, and no reckless swings.”

  Her eyes went to each member of her team. They all aligned instantly.

  The herd advanced across the open field, lined three or four deep. Their pace increased with frightening

  quickness, a slow march becoming a heavy trot, then a full charge. Dust plumed under their broad feet.

  Their deep bellows rolled like thunder across the grassland.

  Kayris clicked her blades together. “Ready when you are.”

  Vanra nodded once. “Formation.”

  The team split smoothly into practiced positions. Tyrish and Kayris moved wide to intercept the flanks

  while Orran held the center line with his shield planted like a wall. Rhoen and Korvex positioned

  behind the tanks, adjusting to get clear firing lanes. Vanra held the rear center, her staff already glowing

  with healing resonance. Bash moved with her, just behind the tanks but close enough to support either

  side.

  The Pachydurs reached striking distance.

  “Engage,” Vanra ordered.

  Orran met the first beast with a brutal shield slam that cracked the ground beneath his feet but stopped

  the charge cold. Tyrish carved into a second, heavy blades cutting deep before the massive creature

  toppled. Kayris blurred forward, twin swords flashing as she slid under a stomping leg and slashed a

  tendon clean through.

  The team cut through the front line with practiced ease. Their gear, their time of Black portal

  experience, and their overwhelming coordination turned what should have been a chaotic clash into a

  controlled dismantling.

  But then something strange happened.

  Several Pachydurs that had been slashed open began to heal. The wounds sealed rapidly as if stitched

  with invisible thread. Bloodless. Seamless. The armored plates began to knit over the cuts again.

  Kayris stepped back, frowning under her breath. “They are regenerating. What is doing that?”

  Rhoen fired a round past her head, the bullet ricocheting off something above a Pachydur’s shoulder.

  Something small. Fluttering.

  He narrowed his eyes. “There. Above them.”

  A tiny bird-like shape darted overhead and plunged its sharp beak into a fresh wound on the beast’s

  back. A faint glow pulsed through its feathers. The Pachydur’s flesh pulled together almost instantly.

  Vanra’s voice snapped across the field. “Healing types. Flesh Peckers. Ranged, adjust targets. Remove

  their support.”

  “Copy,” Korvex said, shifting his stance.

  Bash followed Rhoen’s line of sight. The birds moved quickly, hopping across Pachydur backs,

  applying the strange healing fluid from glands hidden in their beaks. Fast. Precise. Protective.

  He raised his side arm and fired. The first shot grazed one. The second hit cleanly. Razorvein pulsed

  through the bullet and the tiny bird dropped like a stone.

  More appeared.

  A cluster of them fluttered into a tight defensive ring around the larger Pachydurs, beaks tapping

  furiously as they spread healing resonance across every wound.

  Tyrish snarled as a Pachydur he had nearly disemboweled stood back up with renewed strength. “Not

  happening.”

  He lunged forward, but a sudden wall of hardened mud erupted out of the ground and blocked his next

  strike completely.

  “What the…?”

  A quick shape streaked across the riverbank. A small, dog sized beast with thin legs and metallic pads

  on its paws bounded through the muck, leaving trails of polarized mud that hardened instantly behind

  it.

  Mud Darts.

  Mineral affinity.

  And they were fast.

  “Mineral barrier types,” Rhoen called out as he snapped off another shot. “They are shielding the

  healers.”

  A Mud Dart skid into place near a Pachydur, its webbed feet pressing into the ground. The mud

  solidified into a dark, mineral dense shield protecting the Flesh Pecker perched on the Pachydur’s back.

  Vanra lifted her staff high. “Shift formation. Melee, keep the Pachydurs occupied. Rhoen and Korvex,

  eliminate those Mud Darts. Bash, prioritize the Flesh Peckers. Break their cycle.”

  “On it,” Bash said, already moving.

  His knives flashed out in quick succession. The first two hit the mineral shields and broke them apart.

  The third and fourth struck the Peckers directly. Razorvein pulsed and both healers dropped instantly.

  Orran caught the next Pachydur full force with his shield, dragging his heels until his boots sunk into

  the earth, holding the line. Tyrish took advantage and split the beast’s legs clean out from under it.

  Kayris vaulted over his shoulder and carved into another, rolling to her feet in a spray of dirt.

  Mud Darts darted back and forth across the battlefield, kicking up shields as fast as Rhoen could shatter

  them. Each one moved unpredictably, skipping across the mud as though weightless. Rhoen’s rifle

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  tracked them with unwavering precision. One shot. Two. Three. The darts fell one by one.

  Korvex launched a spread of wind infused blasts that disrupted their footing and made them easier

  targets.

  Bash continued to target the Flesh Peckers, doubling and tripling his hits. First hit broke the shield.

  Second destabilized their footing. Third killed them outright.

  Every time the Peckers died, the Pachydurs became easier to handle. Fewer healed. Fewer stood back

  up. The tide began to shift.

  The Pachydurs tried to swarm. Their massive bodies circled in from all sides, attempting to crush the

  team with sheer weight.

  Vanra immediately called, “Circle up. Hold tight. Keep our center safe.”

  Tyrish, Orran, and Kayris moved into a tight perimeter formation, blades raised, shield planted, bodies

  braced. Pachydurs slammed into them like battering rams. Orran pushed back with brute strength,

  Kayris redirected momentum, and Tyrish carved massive arcs of steel to keep space open.

  Behind them, Rhoen poured healing toward the perimeter with every shot, mending fractures, bruises,

  and strained muscles. Vanra added steady restorative waves, reinforcing the group as the battle raged

  around them.

  Bash fired between the tank positions, striking any Pecker that dared show its wings above the wall of

  armored backs. Each kill sent a powerful pulse of essence up his spine. Healing essence. Mineral

  essence. Durability essence. The pulses came hard, almost violent, but he kept his face still. Neutral.

  Focused. No flinches. No tension.

  SC spoke inside him between heartbeats. “You are absorbing multiple types intermittently. Maintain

  composure. Do not react.”

  “I know,” Bash thought tightly.

  And still he absorbed.

  And still nothing unlocked.

  The Mud Darts dwindled rapidly under the precision fire of Rhoen and Korvex. Their broken bodies

  sank into the wet earth.

  With the barriers falling and the healers dying, the Pachydurs lost their edge. Tyrish hacked through the

  weakened armor of the remaining T3C ranks. Kayris slipped past their legs and severed tendons with

  surgical precision. Orran crushed skulls with shield strikes that echoed across the plains.

  The herd’s charge faltered.

  Then slowed.

  Then collapsed entirely.

  The last dominant T3G Pachydur bellowed in defiance before Orran and Tyrish finished it together

  with synchronized blows.

  Silence settled gradually across the field. The dust drifted. The grass lay flattened in wide sweeping

  arcs from the earlier stampede.

  The team stood together, catching their breath.

  Vanra lowered her staff. “Team status.”

  “Bruised,” Orran said. “Not broken.”

  “Exhausted,” Kayris added. “But alive.”

  “Stable,” Rhoen confirmed.

  “Tyrish?” Vanra asked.

  Tyrish shrugged. “Could keep going.”

  Vanra turned toward Bash. “You?”

  “Good,” Bash said. “Holding steady.”

  He felt anything but steady. His bones hummed with absorbed essence, muscles buzzing from the

  internal pulses, but he controlled his breathing and stood without a hint of strain.

  Vanra nodded once. “Collect fragments.”

  The team moved through the field gathering Beast Fragments by hand. Shards from Pachydurs.

  Feathers from Flesh Peckers. Hardened mud cores from Mud Darts. The Nexus would sort everything

  later.

  Once the final cluster was secured, Vanra raised her wristband. “Move out. We return.”

  They marched back toward the portal site, crossing the plains as the sun dipped low. The return was

  quiet, each of them replaying the fight in their head, analyzing mistakes and strengths.

  When they reached the Nexus gate, Vanra keyed the anchor. The portal opened in a soft glow.

  “Back to the Ark,” she said.

  They stepped through together.

  The hum of the Guild’s portal bay welcomed them on the other side.

  They proceeded immediately to the Nexus assessment chamber. Scanners passed over them one by one.

  The fragments transferred into the Guild’s storage. Absorption logs compiled. Resonance curves

  stabilized.

  Once the process was complete, they moved to their private debriefing room.

  Everyone took their usual seats.

  Vanra remained standing.

  “Orran asked for the comparison,” she said. “So here it is. Debrief absorption versus total Beast

  Fragments collected.”

  The room quieted sharply.

  Vanra read off the list. “Fire down twelve point three percent. DoT down forty four point four percent.

  Wind down sixteen point seven percent. Healing down sixty two percent. Mineral down eleven point

  seven percent. Durability down twenty seven point three percent.”

  Silence.

  Every team member turned toward Bash.

  He lifted both hands slightly. “It cannot be me. Think about it. If I had caused all of that, then based on

  the last few days I would have eight or more affinities. That is impossible.”

  Vanra nodded. “He is right. And the Nexus confirmed he did not unlock.”

  “Then where is it going?” Kayris asked.

  No one had an answer.

  But none of them looked suspicious anymore. The team had bonded, and Bash had earned their trust.

  Whatever the anomaly was, it could not come from someone who nearly died shielding their healers.

  After a moment Tyrish exhaled. “Well, it is not like this is the first bizarre thing we have seen in the

  field.”

  The tension broke.

  The team eventually dispersed, offering Bash casual nods and tired smiles as they headed for rest.

  Once they were gone, Vanra stepped into a private communication alcove and tapped her bracelet.

  “Rhell. Report from today.”

  His voice responded quickly. “Give me the summary.”

  She relayed every detail. Every deficit. Every deviation.

  He listened without interrupting.

  Finally he said, “Tomorrow your team will not enter any portals. They will all undergo a deep scan in

  the Nexus. No exceptions.”

  The line disconnected.