'Come on, Velren—think... think!'
His mind raced as he crouched lower behind the underbrush, flickering his gaze between the rocky shelter and the lone guard outside. Recklessness would only get him killed. He needed a plan... and fast.
'What should I do...?'
The most obvious solution came immediately: Find Sköll. Get help.
But as soon as the thought formed, Velren clenched his jaw. No. That wasn't a good idea. Not now.
First of all, backtracking through the forest would cost time—too much of it. By the time he retraced his steps and found Sköll, let alone explained the situation, those mercenaries might've already vanished—or worse—carried out their threat. An hour. That's all the time they'd given themselves before killing the girl. Velren doubted he could even make it halfway back in that window, let alone return here with backup.
Second... what if Sköll was still fighting the other mercenaries? Interrupting that fight could put both of them at risk. If things went south, they'd end up dead—and the girl with them. As for Fenrir? Sure, the one-eyed wolf was powerful, but tracking him down in this sprawling forest was like searching for a needle in a haystack—one that could bite you if you weren't careful.
He squeezed his eyes shut, raking a hand through his hair.
Rushing in headfirst was suicide. Going back for help would take too long. So what did that leave him with?
Velren's mind raced.
Maybe… his Ka?
He grimaced. Fighting was off the table—no way he'd stand a chance. His Vital Crest hadn't even manifested yet, and the idea of a full-on confrontation was just plain stupid for someone who never actually experience real life combat before. But… what if he didn't fight? What if he used it differently?
His thoughts drifted back to one of Gramps' old lectures—those long-winded talks that Velren used to half-listen to while daydreaming.
The old man had said that a Ka wasn't just about a massive display of power or flashy tricks. Hell, anyone can swing a sword or throw a punch. Real skill is knowing how to use your Ka in ways others don't expect. Manipulation, sensing, reinforcement... It's like a tool. Use it right, and you won't need to fight at all.
Velren remembered how Gramps had demonstrated—using his Ka to amplify his strength, pick up distant conversations, and even dull his footsteps until he moved like a shadow.
"It's not always about who hits the hardest. Sometimes, it's about who's smart enough not to get hit at all."
He inhaled slowly, feeling the familiar warmth of Ka pool inside his chest. No flashy moves—just subtlety. That's what he needed. If he could bait the guard away from the shelter… create a noise, something suspicious enough to pull him from his post...
Velren glanced at a nearby bush and then to a loose branch overhead. He didn't need much. Just a distraction. Carefully, he funneled his Ka through his fingertips. The energy wasn't visible—thank the gods—but he felt the faint pulse travel outward, latching onto the branch. A gentle nudge... just enough to sway it.
A faint crack echoed from deeper in the trees. Not loud—but just right to catch attention.
The guard's head snapped up, tightening his grip on his weapon.
"What the hell—?"
Velren held his breath.
'C'mon... take the bait.'
The mercenary, now on high alert, muttered a curse and cautiously moved toward the source of the sound with his sword drawn. Scanning his surroundings cautiously.
'Thank god...'
The first step of his plan was done, now comes the hard part.
The moment the man turned his back, Velren seized the opportunity. He darted toward the rocky shelter's entrance with a light footsteps. Drawing upon his Ka again, he let it flow through his body, focusing it into his legs and feet. The warmth spread, dulling the sounds of his movements even further. Each of his step became softer—barely more than a whisper against the ground.
But that wasn't all. Velren pushed his control further. Even without a defined Vital Crest, his Ka responded to his intent. His pulse slowed, and his heartbeat was calming to a steady rhythm. His breathing, once shallow with nerves, now matched the measured pace he set. Noise. Vibration. Movement. All suppressed. To anyone listening, he was practically a phantom.
A sudden realization struck him mid-walk.
'Wait... Is this how Sköll always moves during our hunts?'
The thought almost made him stumble. Can't believe that it took him this long to figure that out.
Shaking off the distraction, Velren reached the entrance of the makeshift shelter. The rocky structure loomed overhead—crudely formed but sturdy enough to shield the mercenaries inside. Slowly, carefully, he peered around the edge. the boy adjusted his gaze to the dim interior, and relief flooded him.
Inside, the two remaining mercenaries were... asleep. One of them was lay sprawled on the ground, snoring softly. The other sat cross-legged, with his spear resting against his shoulder, and his head slumped forward in a doze. Their guard was down. Because of their exhaustion? Or maybe they were just that arrogant?
Either way, it was a chance that Velren couldn't afford to waste.
His gaze darted toward the little girl lying on the ground next to one of the mercenaries. He crept closer to her. The faint sounds of the forest beyond the shelter has faded from his awareness as his entire focus was locked onto his target. His Ka remained active, silencing his footsteps, steadying his breathing, and dulling the thundering beat of his heart.
He edged forward until he reached her side. Up close, he noticed something... off. Her breathing was steady, but it wasn't the calm of natural sleep, nor the raggedness of someone who had merely fainted. Her aura felt... muted, like a flickering candle caught in a glass jar.
'A spell?'
Velren wondered, glancing briefly at the sleeping mercenaries.
'Could one of them have done this?'
Questions for later. Right now, getting out was the priority.
Without wasting another moment, Velren slipped his arms beneath the girl's small frame and lifted her up. Despite the tension wracking his body, he felt an odd relief—her body was light, almost weightless. Years of daily chores had built up his strength, making the task easier than it might've been otherwise.
"Almost there... slow and steady," he whispered to himself, already out in the open.
But then—a chill crawled down his spine.
'Wait... where's the guard from earlier?'
Too late.
The ground beneath him shuddered. His instincts flared as jagged rocks erupted from the earth, blasting him off his feet. Gritting his teeth, Velren twisted midair, shielding the girl with his body as debris pelted his back. Pain sparked through him as they hit the ground hard.
He barely had time to process the impact before a shadow loomed overhead.
"You brat! Don't you know it's wrong to take something that doesn't belong to you?!" the mercenary bellowed with his sword raised high.
'Shit—!'
Velren clutched the girl tightly, bracing for the worst. The blade swung down—
—and the world... shifted.
His vision flickered. Time seemed to slow, and the edges of reality was distorting like ripples across water. The mercenary's sword struck—but not flesh. Instead, it cleaved through a translucent afterimage of a young boy's body, flickering with glitch-like distortions before disintegrating.
"What the—?!" the mercenary staggered back, darting his eyes wildly. His weapon passed through empty air, and the boy he'd targeted was nowhere in sight.
A few feet away, Velren stood in disbelief—still cradling the girl. Confusion was showing into his features. He hadn't moved. Or... had he?
Before he could piece it together, a soft ding echoed in his mind, and his codex appeared in front of him.
[V1tal Cr3st 0bta1ned: A World Not Mine]