Author''s Note:


    "I made some minor changes. These edits improve the flow and continuity. Let me know if you notice any differences!"


    Raj and Dorian moved through the dense undergrowth, their boots crunching softly against the damp forest floor. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, but something else lingered—an unmistakable metallic tang.


    Blood.


    Dorian slowed his pace, his hand instinctively hovering near the hilt of his sword. Raj followed his gaze, and as they stepped into a small clearing, the sight before them made even Dorian tense.


    A massacre.


    Bodies lay strewn across the clearing, some still clutching weapons, others sprawled lifelessly in growing pools of crimson. The expressions frozen on their faces told a story of shock and pain. Some had deep gashes across their chests, others had their throats slit. The forest was silent, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant cawing of crows already circling above.


    Raj clenched his fists. He had seen death before—his previous life had been filled with it—but this was different. This wasn''t an expedition gone wrong or an accident. This was execution.


    "Steel Fangs," Dorian muttered, nudging one of the bodies with his boot. "Look at the markings on their arms."


    Raj crouched and examined the emblem tattooed on the dead man''s forearm—a crude depiction of a wolf''s skull surrounded by jagged lines. The Steel Fangs. The same gang they had encountered back at The Copper Hearth.


    Before Raj could reply, movement at the far end of the clearing caught his eye. Five men stood beneath the shade of a twisted oak tree, their dark cloaks blending into the surroundings. Their postures stiffened the moment they saw Raj and Dorian.


    Recognition flickered in their eyes.


    "Well, well," one of them sneered, stepping forward. He had a shaved head, a jagged scar across his nose, and an air of arrogance. "Look who stumbled into our little cleanup job."


    Raj''s mind worked quickly. These men weren''t startled by the bodies—they had done this. They were the executioners.


    Dorian remained calm, his hand never leaving his sword''s hilt. "Steel Fangs, I presume?"


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    The scarred man grinned. "Sharp one, aren''t you? Name''s Vek. And yeah, we''re Steel Fangs. But I think you already knew that." His gaze flickered to Raj, narrowing slightly. "You look familiar."


    Raj''s expression remained neutral, but inside, he was already planning his next move.


    "You were at The Copper Hearth, weren''t you?" one of the other thugs said, his eyes widening in realization. "Yeah, that old bastard shut us down before we could do anything."


    Vek''s grin faded, replaced by a scowl. "So, it''s you two."


    Raj glanced at Dorian. The tension between them and the thugs thickened, an unspoken understanding settling between both sides. There would be no peaceful resolution here.


    Dorian spoke first, his voice calm but edged with warning. "I suggest you let us walk away."


    Vek chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh no, no, no. You humiliated us at the inn, and now you''ve seen something you shouldn''t have. That makes you a loose end." He cracked his knuckles. "And we don''t like loose ends."


    The five men spread out, encircling Raj and Dorian. It was clear they intended to end this quickly.


    Dorian''s stance shifted ever so slightly, his weight settling into a position Raj recognized—ready for combat. Raj wasn''t a warrior, not yet. He was Level 2 in the Scholar Path, his knowledge his only real weapon. Dorian, however, was Level 8 in the Warrior Path. Against five men of similar or slightly lower levels, he might have stood a chance.


    But then, something worse happened.


    The underbrush behind the thugs rustled, and heavy footsteps approached. A sixth figure emerged.


    Unlike the others, this man was built like a fortress—tall, broad-shouldered, with thick arms and a brutal expression. His short, dark hair was streaked with gray at the temples, and his beard was trimmed close to his jaw. But what stood out most was the predatory glint in his eyes.


    The thugs immediately stepped aside as he approached.


    "Garroth," Dorian muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening on his sword hilt.


    Raj''s eyes flickered to Dorian. The man rarely showed signs of unease, but now, there was a sharp wariness in his stance.


    Garroth. The Steel Fangs'' leader. The Level 10 Warrior.


    Garroth let his gaze sweep over the carnage in the clearing before landing on Raj and Dorian. His lips curled into a smirk. "You two ??"


    Vek straightened. "Boss, these are the ones from The Copper Hearth. They embarrassed us. Thought you might want to handle them personally."


    Garroth chuckled, his deep voice reverberating like a growl. "Oh? That so?" His eyes locked onto Dorian. "You''re the one who scared off my men without lifting a finger."


    Dorian didn''t flinch. "They had the good sense to leave before they got hurt. Maybe you should take their example."


    Garroth laughed, slow and deliberate. "You''ve got a mouth on you. That''s rare." He crossed his arms, exuding a relaxed confidence that made it clear he wasn''t remotely threatened. "But you see, there''s a problem." He motioned toward the bodies on the ground. "This little operation? It wasn''t meant to have witnesses. And now, here you are."


    Raj remained silent, observing Garroth. The man wasn''t just strong; he was dangerous. There was an intelligence behind his brutish exterior, an understanding of power and how to wield it. He wasn''t reckless like his subordinates—he was patient, methodical.


    Dorian exhaled slowly. "And what? You''re going to kill us?"


    Garroth tilted his head, considering. "Normally, I''d say yes. But I''m curious." He turned his attention fully to Raj now, his gaze piercing. "You''re not just some nobody, are you?"


    Raj held his gaze, forcing himself not to react. "Depends on what you mean by ''somebody.''"


    Garroth chuckled again. "I like you. Smart mouth, but careful. Not like most fools who run their mouths before their brains catch up." His smirk faded, and his expression grew serious. "But I can''t let you walk away. It''s bad for business."


    Dorian shifted his stance ever so slightly. "Then I suppose we don''t have much of a choice."


    Garroth''s grin widened. "That''s the spirit." He motioned to his men. "Vek, step back. The rest of you—if they try to run, cut them down."


    Raj''s pulse quickened. The situation had escalated far beyond what he had anticipated. He was no match for Garroth—not at Level 2. Even Dorian, at Level 8, was at a disadvantage. Fighting a Level 10 Warrior was no small feat.


    And yet, as Garroth rolled his shoulders, preparing to engage, Raj''s mind was already working. If brute strength wouldn''t win this fight, then something else would.


    Dorian shifted, taking a step forward, his muscles tensing. Garroth''s grin sharpened as he mirrored the movement, anticipation gleaming in his eyes.


    The fight was inevitable.


    And in the next heartbeat, it began.