Deniro and his group move deeper into the jungle without hesitation. The moment they enter, the world behind them disappears beneath dense rainforest closing in from every direction.
Massive leaves drip with moisture beneath towering trees whose tops vanish into the canopy. Vines hang low between trunks while tangled roots twist beneath soft ground layered with decay.
Kaela's trail remains visible at first. Bent grass, snapped twigs, and shallow prints in wet soil guide them forward.
Deniro follows without slowing, reading each sign naturally. Wolly stays close behind while Victor trails farther back, struggling against the difference in level after his reset.
"Hey, wait up," Victor grumbles as his foot slips on wet moss.
"Tch… damn it."
He catches himself against a tree before pushing forward again, visibly irritated.
"What a mess… Losing all my levels and now even walking feels terrible."
His footing slips again.
"…I swear this place is rigged."
The pursuit continues steadily until the signs begin fading. Disturbed ground becomes inconsistent, broken foliage harder to distinguish from natural decay. Eventually Deniro slows and stops completely.
Wolly exhales through his nose. "She's wearing 'Hushweave Clothes' and 'Miststep Boots'. Lightweight agility gear. Cuts friction, spreads pressure, barely leaves any tracks."
He clicks his tongue. "Annoying setup when we're the ones tracking her."
Deniro studies a faint mark near a tree root before nodding.
"Still ahead."
They move again, but the trail soon breaks again. They scan the terrain carefully until Victor emerges from the foliage behind them, moving slower but with steady focus. His eyes sweep across the ground without stopping, already reading disturbances as he walks.
"This way."
Wolly snorts. "Now a level 1 hunter wants to lead the team?"
"I may have lost my levels," Victor says, "but I didn't forget how to track."
Deniro and Wolly follow behind him without argument. Whatever the reset stripped away, Victor's instincts as a hunter remain untouched.
"If her tracks are getting this faint," Victor says, "then her movement's slowing too."
He glances back at Deniro with a faint smile. "Or maybe she already lost whoever she's chasing."
"Keep moving," Deniro replies flatly. "Losing the trail means she doesn't know where her target is either. She could walk straight into an ambush where level differences won't matter."
Victor scoffs quietly and turns forward again, irritation tightening his expression. Deniro keeps talking about Arven like he's some dangerous predator worth worrying over.
As if he's forgotten who killed him earlier.
***
Meanwhile, Kaela has already stopped deep inside the jungle. Towering trees surround her in every direction, their roots twisting beneath thick layers of vines and wet vegetation.
At some point she lost not only Arven's trail, but also the route back toward the others.
She was never truly good at tracking through terrain like this. Earlier she only managed because she could follow fragments of movement; shifting shadows between trees, disturbances in bushes as Arven moved ahead.
Now there is nothing, only oppressive stillness pressing from every side until every direction feels identical.
Kaela turns once, then again, trying to reorient herself. But nothing helps.
"Damn it… what should I do now?"
Unbeknownst to her, Arven watches from directly above.
He crouches along a thick branch hidden beneath overlapping canopy shadows, Soulpiercer resting in his hand beneath condensed blue mana plasma. The edge remains stable and razor sharp.
Patiently, he studies Kaela and her equipment.
The "Hushweave Clothes" are lightweight, flexible, designed to reduce resistance and improve evasion by minimizing friction during movement. The "Miststep Boots" improve balance and speed while reducing sound and footprints.
Together, the items narrow the window for a clean ambush. That is Arven's only hesitation, not fear, but timing.
If the strike fails to kill instantly, the fight drags on. And prolonged fights inside dense jungle terrain quickly become uncontrollable.
Still, the equipment is valuable enough to justify the risk. Arven shifts silently along the branch, preparing to descend.
But just before he ambushes the girl…
"Kaela! There you are!"
Victor comes through the foliage first, followed by Deniro and Wolly moving with measured caution.
Arven immediately stills, lowering the dagger slightly as he presses deeper into the leaves above them.
Wolly steps toward Kaela, irritation obvious. "You went off on your own again. Do you realize how hard it is to track someone in this terrain? You were supposed to stay with the group."
Kaela barely glances at him. "Shut up. Don't act like you're leading anyone. You're not the leader here."
Wolly steps forward again, irritation rising. But Deniro cuts through immediately.
"Enough."
His gaze locks onto Kaela. "I already warned you not to split off alone, yet you ignored me anyway. Don't make me repeat myself again, because I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let someone else take your head and grow stronger from it."
Kaela's jaw tightens. She looks away out of fear.
Deniro turns forward again. "Victor! Get us out of this area. We can't stay exposed here."
***
Victor moves ahead, with Wolly following behind him. Kaela clicks her tongue once before finally falls in line. Deniro remains at the rear as the group resumes moving through the jungle.
Above them, Arven shifts slightly, intending to leave as well. But the moment he makes even the smallest adjustment on the branch, Deniro suddenly stops. Noticing the chance, the others slow too.
Arven notices it instantly and presses himself back into the dense leaves.
"Damn… after that reset, my movements aren't as smooth as they used to."
Deniro's eyes narrow as he scans the surrounding trees. A small dagger slips into his hand, and thin ice begins forming along its edge in delicate crystalline lines. The air around him sharpens noticeably.
Then he swings, and a streak of cold air cuts through the jungle before crystallizing into small ice shards mid-flight.
"Shierrrk!!!"
A squirrel as large as a house cat drops from the branches.
Before it even touches the ground, Kaela fires an arrow that pierces the animal mid-air and pins it against a tree trunk.
Arven watches silently, studying not the kill itself, but the coordination and mechanics behind it.
Especially Deniro, the man combines close-range precision with elemental projection effortlessly, yet carries himself nothing like a traditional mage.
His stance stays compact and grounded, more like a close-combat knight or an assassin built for burst engagement.
Arven's gaze sharpens. "An Arcane Knight…?!"
Something inside him tightens. Not fear, but instinctive excitement at the thought of eventually crossing blades with that man.