“Fuck. Fuck. Useless!”

  Sergeant Fenward’s shout tore through the din of battle, cutting past the clash of steel and the constant roar of beasts. “Walter, Colin, handle it!”

  We were already locked in a brutal struggle with two Tier Two Jaguars, their massive frames hammering against our shields and forcing us to give ground inch by inch, when the pressure suddenly shifted.

  The air itself seemed to compress as something crashed into us from the left rear of the formation, behind me, the stone beneath my boots shuddering violently from the impact. My skill [Perceptive Instinct (UC)] gave me the answer instantly, identifying the mana signature of the beast. It was the same one responsible for this skill’s upgrade.

  A Venelion. This one was in the mid-tier three.

  We held the Jaguar in front of us, fully aware that the Venelion behind could tear into us at any moment. Barry’s scream cut through the noise just as Varric took a Jaguar’s claw head on. I used that brief opening to turn, catching a glimpse of Barry lying on the stone, several poison spikes from the Venelion’s tail protruding from his shoulder.

  Barry was most likely paralyzed. I could still sense his mana, but his body was not moving.

  The Venelion did not pause. It flowed forward with terrifying speed, its momentum carrying it straight into the rear of our formation as panic rippled through the Tier Ones trying to pull back. Two of them died almost immediately. I knew it only because I felt two mana signatures vanish behind me.

  It finally stopped when Walter and Colin, with Sergeant Fenward, forced the Venelion away from our formation. Only then was I able to fully concentrate on the Jaguar in front of me.

  I was not sure what had happened to Michael. I could still sense his mana signature, but he was not moving. That left six Tier Ones in the rear and six Tier Twos in front, still facing the two Jaguars pressing forward relentlessly, their heavy bodies smashing against our shields as blood and broken stone coated the platform.

  We split instinctively, breaking into two compact formations without a single word exchanged. Three-tier Twos took the front, locking shields. Varric, Owen, and I formed the front line against the Jaguar on the left, while Garren, Kael, and Jack took the front line to hold the Jaguar on the right. Behind us, three Tier Ones positioned themselves, spears thrusting through the gaps as best they could.

  We moved forward slowly, pushing the Jaguars back. Varric and I stepped ahead, forming a V shape to block its movement while spears rained down on it from behind us. After five minutes of brutal struggle, it collapsed.

  Without wasting any time, we joined Walter, Colin, and the sergeant to attack the Venelion. A minute later, the other group finished their Jaguars and moved in as well.

  Ten minutes later, the Venelion followed. It was already wounded by the time we rejoined the fight, its movements slower, blood matting its fur and staining the stone as it lashed out in weakening bursts before finally crashing down.

  When it was over, I turned toward the left platform to see what had caused the Venelion to come at us from that direction. I had expected a broken formation that had allowed the beast to slip through, maybe Sergeant there apologizing to Sergeant Fenward for a momentary lapse.

  What greeted me was worse.

  Bodies covered the platform, human and beast tangled together in death. Two smaller Venelions lay among them, their forms sprawled across shattered shields and broken spears.

  The entire squad was gone.

  But I did not have time to dwell on their fate. I ran toward my squadmates, already knowing what I might find. I had sensed the Venelion tear through two men and felt their mana signatures disappear, but I was still hoping Michael and Barry were alive.

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  I reached them where they lay on the stone and immediately sent a small stream of mana through my fingers, pushing it into their bodies as I checked their vital points. Relief hit me sharply. Both Barry and Michael were alive. Barry was completely paralyzed, his body rigid and unresponsive, while Michael was losing blood fast, far too fast.

  There was no time to hesitate. We dragged them and the bodies around them to the spot where I had earlier set up my herbs, the ground already slick with blood and trampled debris.

  “Edward, you have ten minutes. Do what you can, then rejoin the formation. See if you can bring Barry back into fighting condition,” Sergeant Fenward ordered.

  Sometimes I wondered how coarse and emotionally blunt he could be. He had not even mentioned Michael. I understood the value of a Tier Two, understood the reality of the battlefield, and even if I discounted his tone, the order still felt detached from what lay in front of me. Even Barry rolled his eyes weakly at the statement. A Tier Three Venelion’s poison had struck him. Neutralizing that alone was a difficult task, let alone restoring him to fighting condition.

  Still, the order set a hard limit. Ten minutes. Too little time for even one patient, let alone two.

  I started with Michael, activating [Field Medicine (C)] to guide my treatment. I pressed bandages into his wounds, forcing them tight with shaking hands as blood soaked through faster than I liked. Even after the sergeant’s words, I could not bring myself to leave him to die. I activated [Perceptive Instinct (UC)], constantly checking their mana levels, tracking every fluctuation.

  Michael was almost out of mana. Barry’s was fighting the poison.

  I remembered the half-consumed mana crystal I still carried. Without stopping to second guess myself, I used [Mana Manipulation (UC)] and [Vital Restoration (UC)] together, forcing a link between myself, the mana crystal, and Michael. It was my first time using [Vital Restoration (UC)] at range. The connection burned, thin and unstable, but it held. The healing was weak, barely enough to slow the bleeding, but slowing it was all I needed.

  I shifted to Barry next, crushing highly potent herbs directly onto his wounds while channeling [Vital Restoration (UC)] to neutralize the venom still spreading through his body. My focus narrowed until the battlefield noise faded, replaced by the rhythm of mana flow and the constant awareness of the seconds slipping away.

  Slowly, I experienced a change in my mana. My [Field Medicine (C)] evolved. I selected the new skill without reading the description, barely registering the name: [Triage Ward (UC)]. As I activated it, the effects became immediately clear. My mana sharpened, automatically highlighting critical injuries as a faint dome formed around me, reinforcing my abilities. Inside it, my mana skills worked more efficiently, especially [Vital Restoration].

  Ten minutes vanished.

  When it ended, the poison in Barry’s body was almost completely neutralized. He was still paralyzed, his limbs unresponsive, but if no beasts reached him, he should be able to walk again in six to eight hours.

  Michael worried me more. He had already lost too much blood. I neither had the mana nor the time to treat him properly.

  And the fighting was still ongoing.

  I left them behind and ran.

  The sounds of battle pulled me back toward the formation, steel ringing against stone and the deep, animal roars echoing in battlefield. As I rejoined the line, a single thought refused to leave my mind. If Tier Threes had begun striking us what happened to the advanced units.

  I looked ahead, searching for the familiar shape of the vanguard squads.

  They were gone.

  The four initial squads that had been stationed forward were no longer holding their individual positions. Instead, they had been pulled together into one compressed formation, shields interlocked, spears bristling outward in every direction. I could not tell what had forced the consolidation, only that it had been necessary.

  “Final push,” Sergeant Fenward said, his voice tight but controlled. “Give everything you have for the next thirty minutes, and we’ll be safe inside again.”

  The light was already failing. Shadows stretched across the platform, pooling between broken bodies and shattered stone. Blood darkened as the sun sank lower, details blurring at the edges of my vision.

  Then Fenward’s expression changed.

  It was subtle, but I saw it. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as he stared at horizon.

  “Walter,” he said quietly. “On me.”

  Walter moved without question, stepping to the sergeant’s side.

  “Edward,” Fenward continued, lowering his voice. “High alert.”

  My grip tightened on my spear as I followed his gaze.

  At first, I saw nothing.

  Then I noticed the eyes.

  Five. No. Six pairs, hovering just beyond the edge of the light, flickering in and out of existence as they moved. They did not rush. They circled, low and silent, barely disturbing the undergrowth.

  “Shadow Cats,” the sergeant muttered.

  I felt a cold knot settle in my chest. Agile, intelligent predators, among the most feared beasts of the Untamed Forest. Their bodies were lean and built for ambush, their movements so fluid they seemed to melt into darkness itself. With Dark elemental affinity, spotting them in low light was almost impossible.

  Six pairs of eyes meant six Tier Two Shadow Cats.

  They were already closing in.