"Hey kid, I'll push forward—drive it toward the west edge of town," Titus called out suddenly.

He didn't appear with footsteps or a shout—he appeared from the air, dropping down above Enzo like a burst of compressed wind. His cloak snapped violently behind him, and there was an intense look of anticipation on his face, the kind that came only from the thrill of the hunt.

Below them, the Viscount Great Terror thrashed and bellowed. The monstrous creature was a towering hybrid of flesh and chitin, with jagged limbs that scraped trenches into the sand. Its body was heaving, breath trembling. It had been worn down through hours of fighting—Titus hammering it from above, the other weavers cutting off its escape routes, and now Enzo relentlessly chasing it.

They were about to kill a Viscount.

A monster that entire squads normally avoided unless properly prepared.

Enzo didn't bother responding. Titus wasn't asking—he was declaring.

Titus' gaze flicked sharply to the west, locking onto a steep natural slope that led into a pit hollowed by centuries of sandstorms. It was the perfect terrain to trap the wounded creature. Without hesitation, he shot toward it, blasting through the air and vanishing down the slope in a blur.

Enzo followed instantly, shadow rippling around his feet. He darted around the monster, nudging its movement just enough—herding it, cornering it, forcing its trembling legs into the only path available.

There was a guttural roar as the beast stumbled down the slope after Titus.

Five brutal minutes later, two figures emerged from the pit.

Both of them were drenched in blood—thick streaks running down their arms, clothes torn, hair plastered to their faces. The stench of monster venom clung to them, but the air around them vibrated with victory.

"Woooo!" Titus roared, the sound bouncing across the ruined town. His laughter cracked with exhilaration. Every stride he took was full of adrenaline and triumph.

Enzo climbed out behind him, quieter but equally marked by the battle. He wiped a line of blood from his cheek, his eyes scanning the horizon instinctively.

In the distance, the silhouettes of the other weavers approached at full speed, weapons charged, hoping to join in the kill. But when they reached the edge of the pit and saw the collapsed body of the Viscount Great Terror… it was already over.

"I want this guy on my team more often," Titus said loudly, throwing an arm around Enzo's shoulder in his casual, overfriendly way. "You see this? Lethal. Precise. Not afraid to rush straight into the jaws of a monster. A natural-born hunter!"

Enzo didn't react much, but Titus meant every word. The kid's instincts were frighteningly good. It wasn't just talent—it was compatibility. His powers, his reflexes, his shadows. Everything about him suited killing monsters.

Especially monsters like this. Horrendous, ungodly things.

"You killed it already?" Jade demanded as she arrived, shock tightening her expression. She examined the blood-covered pair, her brows knitting together. She had expected a long battle, or at least the chance to assist.

"We run behind them by one minute," she added, frustration slipping into her tone.

Titus just nodded, understanding her unspoken disbelief. Without Enzo, the fight would not have been so clean. Maybe not even successful.

"Alright," Jade sighed after a moment. "We should return. We've crossed too deep into the far side of town. There are still dark creatures roaming around—and no torrents to fall back on."

The group began their retreat, cautious and alert.

.

.

.

Later that cycle, the team regrouped at the town hall—a large stone building reinforced with barricades and metal plates scavenged from ruined vehicles. Together they secured the surrounding streets, cleared out remaining beasts, and strengthened their foothold.

On the third circle after the Viscount hunt, the main clearing force returned from their mission.

Enzo noticed them first.

"This…" he whispered, eyes narrowing.

As the troop approached the town, their vehicles sputtered and limped forward, many barely functioning. Their numbers were slashed nearly in half. The surviving soldiers looked shaken, defeated, and sickened by whatever they had endured.

A cold chill spread among Enzo's group.

Then a harsh voice cracked over the comms.

"Lios is dead," Darth growled, frustration shaking every word. "That blasted beast mauled her to death."

Silence fell.

The higher-ups had given them bad intel. They thought they were scouting a small commercial city—nothing dangerous, nothing complex.

Instead, they'd found a massive, submerged ruin. A city buried under layers of sand, twisting underground networks, and hidden structures older than any map. A place crawling with horrors.

Headquarters responded with a voice colder than ice:

"We understand, Darth. I personally apologize for our negligence. We will dispatch the appropriate response."

There was something heavy underneath those words. A promise—or a threat.

A member of the institute had died.

Someone valuable.

That required action. Extreme action.

Far above, on the orbital ship, a towering muscular man stood before the viewport, watching the aftermath of a recent battle. The fires outside were just now dying out. They had been ambushed by a rogue vessel in orbit. Dozens of their own had perished on Galafray's surface.

The grand regent's fists tightened until his knuckles popped.

"Have Black and White prepare a strike force to reinforce Seth," he said quietly. "I want that city in the ground."

Destruction was not simply retaliation—it was strategy. They were not going to let this planet resist them. Not after losing so much.

No one had ever claimed seizing a planet would be easy. This was the cost.

And on the road of Thrones and Roses, no one escaped unscathed.

.....

On the ground, with reinforcements deployed, the town's defenses expanded rapidly. More barricades rose. New teams swept through the remaining districts. The main force secured the other half of the settlement and re-established control.

Meanwhile…

"He isn't leaving, huh?" Enzo muttered atop the cathedral, irritation tightening his jaw.

From above, the ruined town looked strangely peaceful, but Enzo could sense the movement below. Titus was coming again. The man had sought him out every day since the hunt, dragging along important people each time. Rejecting those invitations was nearly impossible.

"Nope," Raven said beside him, her voice almost teasing. "He's even brought someone from the Cloak of Shade today."

Enzo sighed deeply.

The higher-ups were taking notice. His talent wasn't subtle—it stood out. And the Cloak of Shade was an organization whose abilities aligned eerily well with his own. Illusions. Shadows. Stealth. Ambush.

He wasn't just a hunter anymore. His skillset had evolved, and the institute was watching.

"Whatever," he said finally.

He descended from the cathedral roof and approached the waiting group. Four figures stood there: Titus, Savage Sword, and two tall men cloaked in dark, shifting material that seemed to absorb the light.

"Enzo, my boy!" Titus boomed, grinning as he clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't tell me you're turning religious in that cathedral! What are you doing up there all day—praying to the Red God now?"

Enzo didn't dignify that with an answer.

"We're going hunting," Titus said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "And I figured you'd want to come. I brought some friends—wanted them to see your skills firsthand."

With half of the Cloak of Shade's operatives lost recently, they would certainly be scouting for new recruits. Even after the institute's restructuring, students remained students—but talented scouts were always prized.

And Enzo?

He was quickly becoming someone the upper echelons were determined not to lose.

"Skills huh?" Enzo smiled coyly

He could see straight through what Titus was trying to do. One would think he was hooking him up with a connection to the higher ups but Enzo knew….

He knew that Titus had other motives

Simply put

Whenever they went hunting together, Titus would almost certainly without break place himself in the situation to kill whatever prey laid infront of them stealing starlight and echoes alike.

He was very sure, if not 100% that he was going to do that again.

Enzo, my boy!" Titus boomed, grinning as he clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't tell me you're turning religious in that cathedral! What are you doing up there all day—praying to the Red God now?"

Enzo didn't dignify that with an answer.

"We're going hunting," Titus said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "And I figured you'd want to come. I brought some friends—wanted them to see your skills firsthand."

With half of the Cloak of Shade's operatives lost recently, they would certainly be scouting for new recruits. Even after the institute's restructuring, students remained students—but talented scouts were always prized.

And Enzo?

He was quickly becoming someone the upper echelons were determined not to lose.

"Skills huh?" Enzo smiled coyly

He could see straight through what Titus was trying to do. One would think he was hooking him up with a connection to the higher ups but Enzo knew….

He knew that Titus had other motives

Simply put

Whenever they went hunting together, Titus would almost certainly without break place himself in the situation to kill whatever prey laid infront of them stealing starlight and echoes alike.

He was very sure, if not 100% that he was going to do that again.

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