The morning air in Stillgrove was crisp, smelling faintly of dew and moss. Birds chirped lazily from high branches, and somewhere nearby, someone was hammering metal — probably reinforcing a gate or fixing a bent sword.
Dillion stood near the Outpost board, holding a warm piece of flatbread in one hand and staring at a new bounty slip in the other.
“KING MOUSE – CONFIRMED SIGHTING”
Location: Hollow Grove
Reward: 5 Medium Soul Gems (divided among party)
His mouth hung open slightly.
"That your first time seeing a five-gem quest?"
Dillion turned. A boy with a thin frame and a crooked smirk leaned against the post beside him, arms crossed. Behind him stood three others — a short girl with white pigtails and a dagger on her hip, a sleepy-eyed archer chewing a leaf, and a tall kid awkwardly balancing a spear on one shoulder.
“We saw you yesterday,” the girl said brightly. “You’re the one who tanked that Tree Mouse pack with a literal garbage lid.”
“It’s a shield,” Dillion muttered.
“Sure it is,” said the spear kid.
The archer stepped forward and pointed to the quest slip. “We were about to head out for this. Hollow Grove’s not far, and we’ve got four. Just need one more body. You in?”
Dillion hesitated. “I don’t really… have a weapon.”
“You’ve got a shield,” the girl grinned. “And if this King Mouse is real, one hit might take out one of us. We need someone who can take a hit and distract it. You’re built for it.”
“And we’ll split the five Medium Gems five ways,” said the spear kid. “One each.”
Dillion’s stomach fluttered. One Medium Soul Gem could buy him a teleport straight to the capital. A one-way ticket to Silas Crow.
He nodded. “Alright. I’m in.”
They introduced themselves as they walked — a winding path of soft soil and twisted roots.
The smirking boy was Ren, their unofficial leader. The girl with the pigtails was Lysa, agile and chatty. The archer was Juno, who barely talked. And the tall spear kid was Tarn, who looked like he’d grown too fast for his body to keep up.
“You really don’t know how skill leveling works?” Ren asked as they trekked toward the forest line.
“I’ve only been here two days.”
Ren whistled. “Brave. Or stupid. Could be both.”
Lysa jumped in. “Okay, basics: your spells level up by use. The more you cast them, the stronger they get. But skills? You gotta feed ‘em.”
“Feed them?” Dillion asked.
“Soul Gems,” Juno said softly. “They’re fuel. You absorb one, and you can assign that energy to a skill.”
“You’ve got ten slots in each Rank,” Ren added. “Start at 0/10. Use a Soul Gem, fill up a point. When it hits 10/10, that skill ranks up — sometimes it even evolves.”
“And you don’t have to use your own gems,” Lysa winked. “Unless you’re selfish. Or poor.”
“Or both,” Ren grinned.
Dillion looked down at his hand. His Soul Gem flickered into view with a thought — still glowing blue, calm and light. He had no spare gems to fuel anything yet.
But he understood now. If he wanted to get stronger, he'd have to make choices. Hard ones.
Ren pointed ahead.
“There it is. Hollow Grove.”
The forest dipped into a darker stretch — thicker trees, twisted roots, and fog creeping low across the floor. The air felt colder here. Still.
“Ready?” Ren asked, unslinging his short sword.
Dillion nodded, but his fingers tightened around the shield on his back.
The bounty said King Mouse.
But something about the stillness whispered something else entirely.
Something that didn’t want to be found.
The grove was too quiet.
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Branches twisted like claws overhead. The ground was soft with decay, moss squishing underfoot. A low mist crawled between roots and stones, clinging to their boots like it didn’t want to let go.
Ren raised a hand. Everyone stopped.
“Get in formation,” he whispered. “Dillion, shield up. You’re on point. Tarn behind him. Lysa on left flank. Juno—up in the trees if you can.”
Juno nodded once and slipped into the underbrush.
Dillion stepped forward, lifting his shield. He whispered the trigger word — “Adjust” — and the oversized shield shrank and locked into place on his arm like a perfect extension of himself. His Soul Mark pulsed in agreement.
Ren unsheathed his blade. “Mouse sign’s fresh. The King should be close.”
Then they heard it.
Skritch. Skritch. Skritch.
A soft rustling in the bushes.
Then more. Dozens.
The grove erupted — squealing, chittering, snapping. Tree Mice poured from the brush, big as dogs, fangs gleaming, eyes glowing faint yellow.
“Form up!” Ren shouted.
Dillion didn’t hesitate.
The first mouse lunged at him — he ducked under it, raised his shield, and BASHED it sideways into a rock. The creature hit with a wet crack and disappeared in a wisp of soul light.
Another charged — Dillion braced, triggered Shield Guard, and blocked it cold. Then spun and hit it with a wave of water from his hand. The orb splashed harmlessly, but the distraction let Tarn stab it with his spear.
“Nice one!” Tarn grinned.
Lysa was a blur on the left side, flipping between roots, slashing through two mice with dancer’s grace. Her blades moved like she was playing a rhythm only she could hear.
Ren shouted orders and slashed through any that got too close, his blade glowing faint green as he triggered some internal skill Dillion didn’t recognize.
A mouse leapt from a tree — and an arrow split it mid-air. Juno, perched in the branches, nocked another without saying a word.
It was chaos. Fast, wild chaos.
But they were holding.
Breathing hard, the group circled up in a clear patch of the grove. Eight or nine mice lay dead around them, their bodies already dissolving into shimmering fragments.
Lysa exhaled. “That all of them?”
Ren sheathed his sword, grinning. “If that’s the King’s guard, I’m not impressed.”
Dillion lowered his shield, heart still racing. “That went better than expected.”
Then the wind died.
The grove shifted.
Every branch above them creaked at once.
Tarn turned, spear still raised. “Anyone else hear—”
Something erupted from the shadows behind him.
It was huge. Twice the size of the largest Tree Mouse. Its fur was blackened and matted, bones protruding in unnatural places. Its eyes burned with soulfire, and its front claws dragged twin grooves through the dirt as it landed.
But it wasn’t just its size — it was the pressure.
The feeling in the air changed. Heavy. Wrong.
[Named Beast: Gnarlfang – The Hollow Hunger]
Juno dropped from the tree with a thud. “That’s not the King Mouse.”
“No,” Ren said, drawing his sword again. “That’s something else entirely.”
Dillion raised his shield, hands shaking as the creature let out a deep, choking snarl.
It had them surrounded before they even realized it.
Ren’s face was pale, but he kept his voice steady. “Alright—new plan. Dillion, you’re the shield. Draw its aggro. Tarn, Lysa, flank wide and wait for an opening. Juno—”
He paused. “Juno, cover fire. Keep your distance.”
Dillion glanced sideways. Something in Ren’s voice felt… off. Not panicked. Just calculated.
Then Ren met his eyes. “You’ve got the shield, right? You can take a hit.”
Dillion's mouth went dry. “What are you—?”
“GO!” Ren shouted.
He shoved Dillion forward—and in the same motion, he and the others turned and ran.
Straight into the trees.
Dillion froze, heart hammering.
The realization crashed in: They weren’t setting up a plan. They were setting up a sacrifice.
The Gnarlfang didn’t hesitate.
With a low, guttural roar, it blurred forward in a flash of black fur and soul-light claws.
It didn’t go for Dillion.
It went after the runners.
“NO—!”
Dillion turned, scrambling toward them, shield raised, but it was already too late.
Lysa was the first — a shriek, cut off mid-breath, her body vanishing into a flash of red light as her Soul Gem hit the ground, pulsing dimly.
Tarn was next — he barely turned before claws sank into his chest and he blinked out of existence, another gem falling among the roots.
Juno had leapt into a tree — but even from the canopy, she couldn’t outrun the beast. It tore through the trunk, collapsing it in a heap and swallowing her scream.
Only Ren remained, panting, tripping over branches, looking back in terror.
Gnarlfang was on him in seconds.
“No—NO—!” he cried, scrambling away.
The beast’s maw opened wide — and Ren’s body exploded into soul particles, his gem hitting the ground and cracking down the middle.
And then…
Silence.
Five glowing Soul Gems lay in the dirt like candles in a graveyard.
Gnarlfang turned.
Only Dillion remained.
Alone.
Dillion stared at the five Soul Gems in the grass, glowing softly where his party had stood just seconds before.
Then Gnarlfang moved.
It launched at him with a roar, claws cleaving downward like scythes.
[Swift Boots – Rank 1 – Level 1: Activated]
Dillion’s legs kicked into motion, moving faster than he meant to. His body twisted as the world blurred around him — and the beast’s claws slashed through the air where he’d just stood.
He landed in the mud, breath caught in his throat.
“I can’t run,” he whispered. “I have to fight.”
The Gnarlfang snarled and charged again.
He raised his shield.
BOOM.
The impact sent him sliding across the ground, but the shield held. He coughed, arm aching, chest rattling from the force.
He pulled water from the air — a swirling orb forming between his fingers. It flickered, shaped… and splashed harmlessly off Gnarlfang’s hide.
“No…”
The creature pounced again.
Dillion rolled aside, again and again, ducking and weaving. He bashed the beast’s jaw once with a desperate Shield Bash, barely staggering it. His stamina burned. His limbs shook.
Every second was survival.
Every breath was pain.
The claws came faster now. Sharper. A slice grazed his side — and a glowing blue soul gash lit across his ribs, bright and aching.
He was going to die.
Then…
A blade of red light carved the sky.
Gnarlfang jerked violently — frozen mid-motion.
And in one fluid movement, the masked girl from the Outpost stood behind it. Her crimson hair fluttered in the air like fire. Her sword — slender, glowing, curved like a crescent moon — shimmered as she slowly sheathed it.
Gnarlfang collapsed without a sound.
The forest fell into stillness.
Dillion dropped to his knees.
He barely registered the girl kneeling beside him, her voice quiet and warm.
“You held your ground,” she whispered.
Then everything turned dark, Dillion had collapsed in exhaustion.