It was apparent that Dheam was a land shrouded in mystery.

The wide swath of land below was swallowed in mist, thick and unmoving—almost uncanny in how cleanly it cut across the terrain.

They formed a low, opaque veil that blocked any prying eyes away. Whatever lay inside that boundary was hidden completely.

However, just beyond it, the fog broke.

The outer regions stretched clear and exposed, pale stone and frost-bitten earth laid bare beneath the open sky.

Ryn stared at the division longer than the rest.

It was strange. The Dheam in his past had already settled into the frozen mountains by this point…

So what changed?

He turned without hesitation.

"Land us outside," he said, already stepping toward the rail. "There."

Taylor followed his gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the contrast. She didn't ask why.

She nodded once and relayed the order.

Moments later, the airship adjusted course—angling away from the mist-shrouded expanse and descending toward the open outskirts instead.

As they got closer, everyone saw something from the air.

A streak of motion cut across the pale ground below, small and frantic. The figure stood out cleanly against the frozen earth, her path jagged and uneven as she fled across open terrain.

Ryn leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"Someone's being chased," Amelia muttered.

Two shapes followed at a distance. Larger and steadier, not rushing in the slightest.

From their features: broad shoulders, along with wicked canines and dark gray fur, it was obvious who they were.

Members of the Bloodmane Tribe.

Fritz was already moving.

Before anyone could stop him, he vaulted the rail.

"—Fritz, wait!" Ryn snapped, spinning toward the edge.

Too late.

Wind roared as Fritz dropped, his Wind Essence snapped forward immediately, cushioning the descent. He hit the ground hard but clean, boots carving shallow lines through frost as he broke into a sprint toward the figures below.

Ryn swore under his breath.

"Pilot," he barked, already turning. "Put us down. Now. Full descent."

The airship banked sharply, engines whining as it bled altitude far faster than protocol allowed.

Ryn vaulted from the deck the moment the ramp lowered, the rest of the party close behind.

By the time they reached the scene, the chase had already ended.

Fritz stood between the rabbit tribe woman and two Bloodmane tribesmen, posture tense but controlled. Voices carried faintly across the cold air, hostility woven just beneath the surface.

The nearest one looked Fritz over slowly.

His lips pulled back, not quite a smile.

"I heard we might have some guests, " he said, voice low and rough, carrying easily through the open air.

"However, I didn't expect it so soon."

Fritz stiffened slightly. "We're not here to cause trouble."

That earned a short laugh.

"Then you chose a poor place to land," the first Bloodmane replied. His eyes slid briefly to the rabbit woman, then back.

"You step between us and our business… and call it help."

The rabbit woman flinched at the attention and edged farther away, boots scraping against frozen ground.

Ryn watched the exchange carefully.

The Bloodmane weren't angry.

They were amused.

"This isn't your road. That wasn't your food. And she"—he nodded toward the rabbit woman—"wasn't your concern."

Fritz tightened his grip. "She was going to die."

The first Bloodmane's ears twitched.

"Cold kills the slow," he replied simply. "Hunger kills the careless. Theft gets answered."

The second one finally spoke, voice calm, almost indulgent.

"Leave now," he said, "and we'll let you continue your little Path."

Fritz's patience snapped.

Steel rang as Fritz drew his sword.

Light flashed along the blade as he stepped forward, stance settling in a single breath.

"I said stop," he warned—once.

Then he moved.

The Bloodmane reacted immediately. The nearer one twisted aside, axe haft snapping up to catch the opening strike. The impact cracked through the air, frost bursting outward beneath their feet.

The second came in a heartbeat later.

Fritz barely caught the blow on his guard. The force behind it jarred him, boots skidding a half-step across frozen ground as muscle slammed into steel.

Ryn's eyes narrowed.

He didn't move yet.

Instead, he spoke quietly.

"Taylor."

She was already watching, eyes faintly unfocused as her Blessing worked.

"Both are Low-Knights," she replied without looking away. "He shouldn't have a problem."

A pause.

"…But their physical output is high. Much higher than baseline."

Ryn exhaled slowly.

That tracked.

Beastfolk were descended from legendary monsters who've gained sentience, so their average physical abilities are much greater compared to those of humans.

Fritz shifted his stance and pushed forward.

Wind surged along his blade as his Essence bled out, no longer restrained. The air around him tightened, pressure snapping outward as he met the beastfolk head-on instead of yielding ground.

Steel rang.

The first Bloodmane's axe was knocked wide, Fritz slipping inside the reach with a clean, efficient cut that bit deep into fur and muscle. The warrior staggered back, boots carving shallow trenches through snow as he barely kept his footing.

The second lunged to capitalize.

Too slow.

Fritz pivoted, blade flashing in a tight arc that forced the Bloodmane to abort the charge, steel screeching as it scraped against the haft of his weapon. The impact still rattled Fritz's arms, the sheer force behind it heavier than it had any right to be.

But the advantage was clear.

He was leagues ahead in finesse and control.

Ryn watched as the balance shifted.

Fritz had stopped reacting and started controlling the fight.

The first Bloodmane snarled and came in again, movements growing sloppier as he covered his wound.

Fritz met him cleanly.

One decisive strike shattered the warrior's guard, sending him crashing to the ground in a spray of ice and snow. The Bloodmane didn't rise again, chest heaving as he lay there.

Fritz leveled his blade at the remaining beastman.

"Had enough?"

The Bloodmane didn't answer.

His gaze flicked, just once, past Fritz's shoulder.

Ryn's eyes sharpened.

The injured beastman moved toward his back for a cheap shot.

The axe came up in a brutal, overhand swing, every scrap of strength poured into a single, desperate strike.

Fritz didn't see it.

But the sound changed.

KLANG!

Steel screamed as the axe struck something it shouldn't have.

There was a sudden crunch beneath his boots as snow shifted where nothing had stepped before. A burst of frost sprayed up against his calves, cold biting through his greaves.

In the next split second, the injured beastman was ripped off balance, his axe torn free as his body slammed hard into the frozen rock wall.

Blood burst from his mouth as he collapsed, limbs going slack before he hit the ground.

When Fritz finally turned—

The fight was already over.

There was nothing behind him but disturbed snow, a deep gouge in the ice, and the limp body of the beastman at the base of the wall.

Fritz swallowed.

What…just happened?

Fritz turned back slowly.

The remaining Bloodmane had taken two steps back without realizing it. His grip on his weapon had loosened, eyes flicking between Fritz and the body at the wall.

Fear had finally broken through.

Fritz didn't advance.

He held his blade steady, breathing even, the wind tugging at his cloak as the cold settled back into place.

"Go," he said.

The Bloodmane hesitated, ears twitching.

"You've made your point," Fritz continued, voice firm but controlled. "Take him and leave."

For a heartbeat, it looked like the beastman might argue.

Then, with a low growl, he backed away, scooped up his fallen companion, and retreated at a hurried pace across the frozen ground. He didn't look back.

The sound of his footsteps faded quickly, swallowed by wind and distance.

Silence returned.

Fritz stood there a moment longer, sword still raised, before finally lowering it. The tension bled out of his shoulders as he exhaled and slid the blade back into its sheath.

Fritz's gaze shifted.

He found Ryn watching him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind pulled at their cloaks, cold threading through the silence left behind by the fight.

Ryn broke it first.

"You've just created a loose end," he said.

It was neither an accusation nor an argument, just a statement.

Fritz's brow furrowed. "He was beaten. He'll think twice before coming back."

Ryn didn't look away.

"He'll remember," he replied. "And he'll tell someone."

Fritz hesitated.

Ryn glanced once, briefly, toward the direction the Bloodmane had fled—then back.

He scanned the surrounding, wary of hidden reinforcement, but it seemed like those two were acting on their own.

His gaze stopped.

The rabbit tribe woman hadn't gone far.

She stood at the edge of a broken stone outcrop, half-sheltered from the wind, clutching the torn sack to her chest with both arms. Her ears were pinned flat.

She was watching them.

Not Fritz.

Him.

Ryn met her gaze without changing his expression.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, cautiously, she took a single step forward.

Ryn exhaled slowly through his nose.

Of course.

He turned slightly, just enough that the rest of the party wouldn't miss the shift in his posture.

"She didn't leave," he said.

Fritz looked up sharply.

Ryn kept his eyes on the rabbit beastfolk as she hovered at the edge of distance—close enough to be desperate, far enough to run if needed.

"That means," Ryn continued evenly, "she's either braver than she looks…"

A pause.

"…or she needs something more."

The wind carried her shallow breathing across the frozen ground.

Ryn stepped forward.

And Dheam waited to see what he would ask for in return.

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