The silver static in Elian's eyes flickered once, then died.
The jagged, obsidian cracks that had threatened to tear the sky apart vanished as if they had never been there, replaced by the oppressive, swirling violet-grey of the Lawless Zone. The world reverted to a charcoal smear. To anyone else, it was a terrifying loss of vision; to Elian, it was the familiar weight of his "handicap."
"Keep your heads down," Talin hissed, his voice tight as he stepped through the threshold of the West Gate.
The transition was instant. The air didn't just turn cold; it turned thin. Elian took a breath and felt a sharp, familiar sting in his lungs—the "Lawless Zone." In his past life as Kaito, he had felt this above 8,000 meters, where the atmosphere was so scarce that every breath felt like a gift. Here, the air was saturated with chaotic Aether that fought against the oxygen. It was fiercer, more predatory than any mountain on Earth.
"Baraq," Talin ordered, his hand white-knuckled on the iron bar Kaito had chosen for him. "Stay on the flank. Keep an eye on Elian. If he trips, you haul him up. Don't let him fall behind."
"I've got him," Baraq whispered, his wolf-ears twitching nervously at every rustle in the fog.
Talin took the vanguard, his broad dwarf-frame acting as a shield, while Kaelen slipped into the rear. Kaelen didn't speak; he simply faded into the grey haze, his presence so faint that even Elian struggled to track his "Flow Line."
They began to scout.
The Lawless Zone was a labyrinth of twisted, blackened trees and jagged rock formations. Every few minutes, the silence was broken by the guttural growl of Tier 1 Shadow-Hounds or Mist-Creepers. A week ago, these creatures would have terrified the Crows. Now, with Kaito-approved weapons and the experience of the barracks massacre, they moved with grim efficiency. When a Shadow-Hound lunged from the brush, Talin simply crushed its skull with a single, practiced swing of his weighted bar. They weren't afraid of the small fry anymore.
After hours of mapping the outer perimeter and marking Aether-veins, they retreated toward the main Vanguard camp—a fortified temporary clearing near the gate.
The atmosphere in the camp was thick with the smell of iron and sweat. Other scouting units were returning, their faces grim. Elian stood quietly as Talin reported their findings to the Vanguard scouts.
"The numbers are wrong," one of the regular guards muttered, looking at the collective maps. He scratched his beard, his eyes darting toward the violet fog. "The beast activity has tripled in the last three days. It's like something is pushing them out of the deep zone toward the walls."
"Doesn't matter," a senior officer barked, slamming a gauntlet onto the table. "The orders are set. We do some hunting today to clear the perimeter. We wipe the remainder of the horde tomorrow at dawn. Move out!"
As the Crows turned to find a corner to rest, a heavy shoulder slammed into Baraq, nearly sending the Beast-kin into the mud.
Horgan stood there, flanked by his squad. He looked at the Crows, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and genuine malice.
"Still breathing, I see," Horgan sneered, looking at the rusted short-sword at Elian's hip. "You were lucky today, cowards. The fog was thin. Seems like you get to see another day of being bait."
Horgan signaled to his men, drawing a spear. He looked back over his shoulder, a mocking grin on his face.
"Stay in the back and try not to wet yourselves, Crows," Horgan laughed. "Watch now. See how a real Vanguard unit hunts."
He and his squad marched into the violet haze, confident and loud. Elian watched them disappear, his 50% vision catching a sudden, violent pulse of violet light deep within the fog.
The "Lawless Zone" was hungry, and Horgan had just walked into its mouth with his chest puffed out.
The Crows trailed the main Vanguard unit like shadows. While Horgan's squad marched with the clatter of polished boots and confident shouts, Elian's group moved with the silent, rhythmic breathing like that of seasoned scouters.
"Keep your distance," Talin whispered, his eyes locked on the broad back of the unit ahead. "If they trip a nest, we don't want to be the ones caught in the initial spray."
The hunt began abruptly. A Tier 2 Iron-Hide Boar—a mass of muscle and serrated tusks—burst from the violet undergrowth. It was a beast that could have leveled the slave barracks, but Horgan didn't flinch.
"Form up! Spears at the ready!" Horgan roared.
Elian watched, his 50% vision catching the blurred flash of silver. Horgan stepped into the beast's charge. With a precise twist of his hips, he diverted the boar's tusks and drove the tip into its neck. It was efficient. It was disciplined.
He's not just a loudmouth, Kaito noted, his mind calculating the move. He's a trained soldier who knows his limits. That makes him more dangerous than a simple bully.
Driven by a need to gauge the true gap between them, Elian focused.
[Authority: Insight – Activated]
The charcoal world exploded into silver clarity. For the next few minutes, Elian pushed himself. The "dry itch" returned within seconds, rapidly escalating into the rhythmic throb he remembered from the barracks. But he didn't stop. He needed to see.
He watched Horgan's squad fight a pack of Tier 1 Shadow-Hounds. Through the lens of Insight, the "Vanguard's" perfection shattered. He saw the flaws—a spearman whose left foot was too heavy, a shield-bearer who dipped his shoulder every time he braced. They were efficient against beasts, but against a human who could see the "Flow Lines," they were full of holes.
"Crows! Don't just stand there!" a guard barked as a Shadow-Hound broke off from the main pack, lunging toward the rear.
Baraq and Talin braced, but Elian was already moving.
To the others, he looked like a blur of grey rags. To Elian, the world was a series of slow-motion "Stress Points." As the hound lunged forward, its jaws wide, Elian didn't parry. He stepped a hair's breadth to the right—just enough for the beast to fly past him—and brought his rusted short sword down.
He didn't swing for the neck. He stabbed a specific vertebrae where the Aether-flow was thinnest.
He repeated the movement twice more—minimal effort, maximum lethality. The beast hit the ground with a soft thud, its nervous system instantly shut down. It didn't even have time to whimper.
9 minutes, a voice chimed in his head
[Authority: Insight-Deactivated]
The silver faded, and a jagged spike of pain drove itself into Elian's skull. He stumbled, his hand flying to his eyes as a hot, metallic warmth began to pool in his tear ducts. He forced his breathing to stay steady, hiding the agony from Kaelen's watchful gaze but still the pain was something far better then what happened after 10 minutes
"You okay, lad?" Talin asked, breathing hard after crushing a hound's ribs with his bar.
"Fine," Elian croaked, wiping a stray drop of blood from his cheek before it could fall. "Just... the pressure."
The rest of the day was a grueling blur of minor skirmishes. They hunted a handful more Tier 1s and one weakened Tier 2 that the main Vanguard unit finished off. By the time the violet sun—if there even was a sun—began to dim behind the fog, the "horde" seemed pushed back.
They retreated to the temporary camp, tired and bloodied, but alive. As they sat by the dim Mana-fires, the guards tallied the kills. Horgan sat across the clearing, laughing with his men, looking every bit the "Hero" of the day.
Kaito sat in the shadows, his rusted blade resting across his knees. His eyes still burned, and his vision was fuzzier than usual, but he felt the Black Flower in his soul humming with a satisfied, dark energy.
The day was over, but as the wind howled through the "Cracks" in the sky he had seen earlier, Kaito knew the Lawless Zone wasn't finished with them. Not by a long shot.