They had been running too long. Not sprinting. Not fleeing in panic. Just moving forward because stopping meant being surrounded. Raizō felt it in his calves, the dull ache that refused to fade no matter how steady his breathing stayed. Every step landed clean, but none of them were light anymore. Taren’s breathing had gone shallow. He kept pace through stubbornness alone. His shoulders were tight, his jaw locked, his eyes flicking to the sides of the path more often than ahead. Seris moved with discipline, but even that had limits. Sweat dampened her collar. Her grip shifted on her weapon every few minutes, a quiet reset she didn’t realize she was doing. Shizume hadn’t said a word in over an hour.

  She didn’t need to.

  The horns behind them had become a constant presence. Not loud. Not urgent. Just close enough to remind them that the Order Knights weren’t rushing. They didn’t need to. They were herding. The forest ahead thinned. Not a clearing. A stretch of ground where the trees gave just enough space for movement to feel exposed. Raizō felt it before anyone said anything. The air didn’t press down. It stopped moving. Figures stepped out from between the trees. Not rushing. Not hiding.

  “Veyraen Enforcers,” Taren muttered angrily, “I knew I felt you tailing us since we entered the Wildlands.”

  They formed a loose half-circle ahead of the path, blocking it without closing in. Each stood relaxed, weapons still sheathed. Their presence alone bent the space around them, like the ground had accepted their authority without being asked. Taren stopped short. His chest rose once, sharply.

  “You’ve got some nerve,” he said, anger breaking through exhaustion. “Letting Knights chase us like animals.”

  One of the Enforcers spoke, voice level and calm.

  “We are not here because of the Knights.”

  That made Taren turn fully.

  “We are here by order of the Elders, for you.”

  The words landed harder than any blow. The Enforcer’s gaze fixed on Taren.

  “Taren of the Wildlands. You are charged with abandonment of your settlement. With crossing forbidden borders. With surviving where you were meant to either return stronger or die. From this moment forward, you are no longer considered a Veyraen.”

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  Taren stepped forward. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to—”

  Raizō’s hand came up. Not forceful. Just enough. Taren stopped. Raizō shook his head once.

  “We made our choice, and they’ve made theirs,” he said quietly. “Arguing won’t change that.”

  The Enforcer turned his attention to Raizō.

  “Raizō. You are charged with destabilizing the Wildlands. With altering people who were meant to remain unchanged. With causing friction among settlements through presence alone.”

  Raizō met his eyes. He didn’t deny it.

  “You do not belong here,” the Enforcer continued. “And yet, you walk freely.”

  Seris felt her stomach tighten. Shizume’s Kaijin stirred, then faltered. The shadows around her thinned, refusing to answer fully.

  “We were ordered to end this,” the Enforcer said.

  And then they moved.

  There was no warning, no signal. Two Enforcers closed the distance instantly. Raizō stepped in to meet them, intercepting the first strike with a sharp pivot and a forearm block that sent a shock up his arm. The second Enforcer slid past him, forcing Seris to react. Steel rang out. Seris barely held the blow, boots skidding across the dirt as she redirected it away from Shizume. The force behind it was controlled. Deliberate. This wasn’t wild strength. This was trained inevitability. Taren lunged, muscles flaring as his body responded before his mind caught up. His partial transformation pushed through his exhaustion, strength surging just enough to clash with an Enforcer head-on. He was fast, but still not fast enough.

  The Enforcer caught his wrist mid-strike and twisted, forcing Taren to stumble back with a sharp grunt. Raizō moved again. He broke through with raw speed and precision, forcing space between them with strikes that didn’t aim to win, only to survive. Then, the horns sounded again.

  Loud. Close.

  The Enforcers disengaged immediately. They stepped back as one, movements smooth and unhurried.

  “We will not finish this here,” the lead Enforcer said. “The Knights are too close.”

  Shizume felt the pressure lift suddenly, her kaijin snapping back into place like breath returning after being held too long.

  “This is not mercy,” the Enforcer added. “We’ll be back.”

  And then they were gone. Not vanishing. Just no longer present. Steel and shouting burst through the trees behind them.

  “Move,” Raizō said.

  They ran. Not clean. Not fast. Just enough. Shizume took the lead without being asked.

  “Khareen,” she said, breath tight. “It’s the nearest place they won’t act openly.”

  No one argued. The horns chased them forward. The Knights pressed from behind. And somewhere ahead, Raizō knew, the Enforcers were already moving again. Not to chase. To wait. They weren’t being hunted anymore. They had been condemned.

  And now, the Wildlands itself was closing in.