The hall hadn't quieted since their return.
News spread like wildfire: a spider the size of a wagon had followed them back, and now it crouched at the edge of the treeline like a black hill.
Some survivors whispered prayers. Others swore it would kill them all before dawn.
Aria didn't hear most of it. She was too tired to care.
Ethan had settled her on a cot, checked her vitals, and coaxed a few spoonfuls of broth past her lips. Even with his Healing Touch, her essence pathways were scoured raw from the new bond. She looked fragile, hollowed out—but alive. Determined.
The ant crouched loyally in the doorway, mandibles clacking whenever anyone came too close. People gave it a wide berth. Ellie leaned against the wall beside the entrance, arms crossed, daring anyone to test her patience. Keith sat near the cot, staff balanced across his knees, watching Aria with the stillness of an old wolf.
After a long silence, he finally leaned forward.
"You've bitten off more than most men could chew," he said. "Two bonds this early? You're walking a blade's edge. But you're still breathing, so maybe you've got the steel for it."
Aria stirred, voice rough. "I'm not letting them go."
"No one said you should," Keith replied evenly. "But you'll need to learn how to carry them without breaking yourself in half."
Her eyes opened fully—pale, fever-bright. "Then show me how."
Keith nodded once, as if he'd been waiting for that.
"You don't grow by throwing yourself at every fight. You'll burn out. A Beast Master's strength isn't just what fights beside her—it's what fights for her. Let them hunt. Patrol. Scavenge. When they kill, you'll feel the echo. A trickle of essence. Small at first, but steady. It'll raise your level without killing you in the process."
"So even if I stay here," Aria murmured, "I'll still grow?"
"Aye," he said. "But remember—if they fall, you bleed with them."
Her gaze drifted toward the doorway, where the ant clicked softly. "Then I'll make sure they don't fall."
Ethan exhaled through his nose. She's already thinking like a commander.
Keith straightened and tapped his staff against the floor. "That ant's built for work. Let it roam outside the walls; it'll find what it needs. The spider—too big for scraps. Its webs are worth more than we know. Don't let it spin in here; you'll choke us by morning. Send it to the east cliffs and the northern ruins. Make the world a funnel we already own."
Ellie raised a brow. "So we herd the monsters straight into our blades."
Keith's mouth curved. "Exactly. And the river's mine—the croc's settled in. Anything tries the water, it doesn't come back up. Between the river, the webs, and the walls, there's only one way in. That's where we stand."
Aria pushed herself upright, swaying but alert. "So the river's yours, the sides are mine, and the front belongs to the fighters."
Keith chuckled. "Quicker than I thought."
Ellie blew out a breath. "Fine. But mark those webs. Last thing we need is one of ours wandering into dinner."
"I'll remember," Aria said.
Keith rose, planted the staff, and rumbled, "At first light, you send the ant to hunt. The spider spins where I tell you, not an inch further. You eat, you rest, and you keep breathing. Do that, and you'll see what I mean."
Aria's lips twitched. "Then I'll do it."
---
The Next Morning
Gray dawn crept through a low mist. The air tasted of rain and rust.
Ethan stood beside Keith and Ellie as Aria stepped forward, still pale but upright. She lifted her hand; the ant clicked once and slipped through the gates, vanishing into the trees.
The spider stirred from where it had crouched all night. At her silent command, it rose and began to move east, spinnerets streaming gleaming silk. Keith pointed with his staff.
"There. Between those stones—and again near the cliffs. Make it a wall no beast can cross."
The spider obeyed, vanishing into the fog like a drifting shadow.
Aria swayed suddenly. Ethan caught her. "Easy. Don't push—"
She gasped, eyes wide. "I… I felt it. Twice."
Ellie's hand went to her blade. "What?"
Aria pressed her palm to her chest. "Like a pulse. The ant and the spider—they killed something. And I felt it."
Faint numbers flickered across her pupils—System text only she could see. Her breath hitched. "I leveled. Twice."
Ethan froze. Her skin already looked warmer, her eyes clearer. The weakness in her limbs seemed to fade by the heartbeat.
Ellie swore softly. "Two levels—in minutes?"
Keith's voice came low, half pride, half warning. "That's the bond echo. Her beasts feed her. They're already hunting."
Aria's smile was faint but fierce. "Then I won't fall behind."
Keith leaned on his staff. "Not if you keep them alive. But remember—every bond's a tether. If they die, you bleed. Grow too fast, and you'll cut yourself before you know it."
Ethan swallowed the knot in his throat. She's not fragile anymore. She's accelerating.
Ellie shook her head. "At this rate, she'll outlevel half the fighters before she's old enough to drink."
Aria only smiled wider, eyes shining with quiet, relentless fire.
Beyond the walls, mist drifted like breath over the ruined streets. Somewhere unseen, the spider spun its silk and the ant hunted through ash—feeding their master without rest.