The savannah was burning.
Not always in visible flames,but always in conflict.
Distant screams.Beasts fleeing in chaotic stampedes.Semihumans killing each other over territories that would change hands by dawn.
There was no quiet night.No secure perimeter.No rest.
The first warning wasn't a scream, but the sudden silence of the insects.
Lusian lifted his head.
From the tall grass, shadows moved against the wind. Too coordinated to be scavengers. Too impatient to be scouts.
"Contact," he murmured.
There was no time to form up.
A spear shot out from the darkness. It wasn't meant to kill. It was meant to test.
Lusian's shadow moved before his body did.
The spear halted midair, pierced by a blade of darkness that reflected no light. The weapon fell to the ground without a sound.
Then chaos erupted.
Armored hyenas burst through the left flank, laughing as they ran. Baboons leapt down from a low rise, barking orders in their harsh tongue. It wasn't a large force. It was an opportunistic ambush.
The worst kind.
Kara moved first. Her greatsword carved a brutal arc, splitting a hyena in two before it could even scream. There was no glory. Just one body falling and another recoiling.
Adela gave a sharp whistle.The white tiger shot forward like a shard of ice, its claws freezing the grass as it struck a baboon that never even understood what had killed it.
Elizabeth raised a hand.
The lightning wasn't spectacular. It was precise. Three bodies dropped, smoking, muscles locked, hearts stopped.
Lusian advanced.
He didn't run. He didn't shout.
The forest had taught him something useful: fear grows when you can't see your predator.
Darkness condensed around him, swallowing outlines, stealing depth. A baboon felt something pierce its chest before it saw the black spear impaling it to the ground.
"Retreat!" someone shouted.
Too late.
Dayana didn't need to raise the dead. It was enough to wound.
A semihuman fell, still alive—and when it tried to scream… its eyes went dark. It rose again, clumsy, obedient, and turned on its own.
That broke the ambush.
The hyenas fled first. The baboons followed. They left behind blood, bodies, and the hollow silence of a victory that tasted like nothing.
It had all lasted less than a minute.
Lusian stood still, breathing slowly.
Staying alert had become routine.Being tired, permanent.
He was strong. Too strong.But even strength erodes when there is no pause.
And there was something else.More basic.More human.
Privacy.
He couldn't touch the women without watching the horizon.He couldn't afford to lower his guard, not even for an instant.No desire.No rest.No intimacy.
Everything was survival.
He climbed a nearby rocky rise while the group secured the area. He wasn't looking for enemies; enemies always came on their own.
That was when Selvryn approached.
She kept her distance.Not as an ally.Not as a friend.
As the leader of a wounded clan.
"The war is spreading," she said bluntly. "The eastern clans no longer respect borders."
Lusian nodded.
"The savannah was never stable," he replied. "Only vast."
She studied him carefully.
"You don't plan to stay."
It wasn't a question.
"No," Lusian said. "This place isn't for living. Only for enduring."
Selvryn tightened her jaw.
"Where will you go?"
Lusian looked toward the horizon, where the mountains cut across the sky like ancient scars.
"Up."
She followed his gaze.
"The mountains aren't a refuge," she warned. "They're dead territory. Extreme climates. Ancient creatures. Paths that disappear."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Lusian took a moment before answering.
"Because no one lives there," he said at last."And because what can't sustain armies… sometimes can sustain homes."
Selvryn fell silent.
"We won't go," she said finally. "We'll find our own. Save what remains."
"I figured."
There was no reproach.No promises.
Just different decisions in the face of the same hostile world.
Selvryn turned away.
"Good luck, human."
Lusian didn't respond.
When she was gone, Elizabeth appeared at his side without a sound.
"You're tired," she said.
It wasn't an accusation.It was a fact.
"I'm done," he corrected. "With fighting. With hiding. With not being able to live."
Elizabeth watched him in silence.
"Then the mountains aren't an escape."
"No," Lusian said. "They're a pause.""And right now… that's worth more than any victory."
Leaving the savannah wasn't a decision.
It was a selective surrender.