Tave had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly before the vision from Fang's perspective began to filter into his mind. It wasn't like seeing directly through another pair of eyes. More like a flood of fragmented impressions, images pouring into his head in uneven waves.
It felt strange at first, almost disorienting, like watching a film stuttering in low frame rate. The details were blurry, the clarity reduced by the natural darkness of night. Still, he pushed through it, adjusting, letting the connection stabilize.
"Fang… focus on the monster concentrations. The clusters. The areas I marked earlier. Follow the path I pointed out. Stay hidden."
Fang responded, not with words, but with movement. The wolf slipped deeper into the dark, his body now moving with more fluidity and control than ever before. He was no longer the clumsy pup Tave had first taken in. He'd grown, leaner, sharper. Still youthful, yes, more like a teenage version of a wolf, but far from helpless.
And then… the feed changed.
Fang slowed, steps careful, and Tave felt it, that moment of alertness. A stillness. The images flowing into his mind sharpened, steadied, as the wolf paused and began transmitting clearer glimpses of a specific point in the forest.
Something was there.
Clusters of Lava Hounds lay scattered among the trees, their massive bodies curled into the scorched earth, some deeply asleep while others prowled in slow, watchful circles, clearly on patrol.
Don't let them see you, Fang… go. Now.
With a silent twitch of his ears, the Shadow Wolf turned away, his body melting back into the underbrush. He continued his sweep of the area, and the images flooding into Tave's mind shifted once more. Each clearer than the last as Fang honed his stealth.
More monsters began to appear in the vision.
Lava Beetles, carapaced creatures radiating heat, crawling in slow, deliberate patterns across molten trails. Ember Scorpions, their tails aglow with fire venom. Magma Sprites, flitting like embers caught in the wind, barely visible. Ash Serpents coiled beneath blackened roots, their breath misting smoke.
They were all spaced out, each group separated by enough distance to make coordinated attacks unlikely. But still, Tave exhaled slowly.
Their patrol ranges were wide. Too wide. There was no easy path through this territory. No quiet trail untouched by monster activity. The hope of slipping past unnoticed? Almost laughable.
He sighed again, tension tightening in his chest.
If they were to clear this Rift safely, they'd have to deal with these monsters, one group at a time. Small clusters. Methodical extermination. Then claim the territory, secure the path, and keep pressing forward until they reach the boss monster's area.
That alone would take time. But there was another complication.
If even a single monster escaped during a skirmish, it could reach the boss area mid-battle, turning an already deadly fight into chaos.
Which meant, realistically, the safest route forward…
Was to eliminate all of them.
Every. Last. One.
Tave clenched his jaw. That kind of operation would eat up far more time than two weeks. What once felt like a generous estimate now seemed far too short.
They would need longer.
But still… he glanced at the sleeping forms of his teammates in the camp behind him.
Tomorrow would be the real test.
The hunt would begin, and with it, Tave hoped he could direct Orion properly. If he could keep him focused, if they could all do their part, then maybe… They had a chance.
He wanted to get out of this Rift alive.
And yes, he would.
Tave steadied his breath, diving deeper into the haze of shared vision. Darkness filtered into his mind like a quiet flood, fragment by fragment, through Fang's senses. The wolf alternated between bursts of swift, silent movement and moments of cautious stillness whenever danger loomed too close.
Honestly? For someone who had applied to this team as a Scout, Tave was nailing his role. Every movement, every decision. It was textbook. Maybe even better than that. He was doing it flawlessly.
But still… that didn't mean he was bound to this role forever. This was just what the team needed now. Survival came first. Everything else could be figured out later.
And then… he saw them.
The stream of images from Fang sharpened. Frames slipping into place, and this time, what Fang spotted beyond the brush wasn't a monster.
It was Elias.
Elias and three others.
Tave fell completely still, as did Fang, who remained crouched behind the thick underbrush, allowing Tave a clear, uninterrupted look. The wolf understood the gravity of the moment. He was holding position so his master could watch.
The group looked worse off than the last time Tave had seen them, back when the squads had split. Bloodied clothes, tired movements. Had they stumbled into another monster attack? The odds were high. They hadn't had a proper scout among them, which meant navigating the forest blind, and it clearly hadn't worked in their favor.
Elias knelt beside a woman, handing her what looked like a healing potion. Then he moved to another teammate, checking on them as well. A quiet, watchful presence among the injured.
It was obvious, even through the flickering vision, that Elias was still in the best condition of the group. Steady, unshaken.
Just how strong is this guy?
Lily had estimated Elias might be around Level 26, less than Orion, who stood at Level 29 and had the might of both a powerful sigil and a relic at his side. Logically, Orion should outmatch him. On paper, the difference was clear.
And yet…
In that last fight, something had felt off.
Tave had a nagging suspicion that Elias had been holding back. Not just strategically, but intentionally, like someone masking his true capability.
Was it real? Was he really that composed?
It was maddening, trying to piece it all together, especially seeing things not just as Tave the Scout, but as Tave the Author. Watching the story unfold from within was nothing like writing it. The mystery was deeper. The variables, more chaotic.
And worst of all?
Tave knew nothing, nothing, about this blond-haired man. Not in his notes. Not in his original drafts. Not in any version of the world he'd created.
Who was this Elias?
He wasn't supposed to be an important figure, right?
Yet, when he observed how they moved and spoke, it was clear. They functioned well together. Their communication was fluid, practiced. There was a natural rhythm to it.
Elias, in particular, spoke the most within the group. Perhaps it was simply the absence of Orion, or perhaps these people already knew each other from before. There was familiarity there, a quiet understanding that didn't need explaining.
And suddenly Tave's instincts screamed!
A cold jolt shot down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, sharp as needles. Something was wrong. Deeply, instinctively wrong.
His focus narrowed in an instant.
There, just for a split second, he noticed it. A subtle pause. A break in Elias' interaction with the others. Barely noticeable. But enough.
And then the image changed.
The next flicker of vision Fang sent back. Elias was no longer among the four.
Tave's breath hitched. No!
Another image hit his mind like a shock.
Elias, mid-motion.
His sword was drawn.
Swinging, directly at Fang!