(Kisaya POV)
Laris didn't even try to hide the curiosity in his eyes.
"What happened?"
I held up the broken remains of the tablet. "I've been authorized to handle it directly. I can go after it myself."
His brows lifted. "With your record... it doesn't stand a chance."
But this wasn't about records. It was about control. Mine—over the situation, over the pressure that kept pressing against my ribs every time another report came in.
I turned away. "Gather everyone. War chamber. Ten minutes."
...
They were already there when I entered, the war chamber tense and still.
The table at the center was long, solid stone, carved with raised reliefs of the surrounding region. It had stood in this room longer than I'd been alive. The terrain was familiar: hills, rivers, gates—all smoothed by time and the pressure of strategy.
Laris stood to my right. The others, all assistants, circled the table's edge. They rotated constantly. I didn't bother learning their names anymore. Supposedly, they were here to help me think. Most just waited for orders. Some stood stiffly. Others leaned over the carved ridges, as if standing closer made them useful.
I stopped in front of the table, arms crossed, and studied it.
"It's in the northeast" I said, tapping the spot where the tomb had been marked.
"Near where Darek found Akhem."
I drew a circle with my finger. The radius was too wide. The attacks hadn't respected terrain, weather, or hour. Night. Day. It didn't matter. This thing didn't care.
"The goal is simple. I find it. I stop it. No more corpses in the dirt. No more civilians drained and left to rot."
Some nodded. A few muttered agreement.
"But the problem" I continued, "is that I can't be everywhere at once."
I looked up. Let the silence settle.
"We need a perimeter. And more than that—instant warning when the creature moves."
Eyes turned to me.
"Darek" I said. "We'll use his ability—he can share what he sees instantly. That's the kind of reach we need."
One of the assistants, pale and serious, raised a hand.
"How far does Darek's ability reach?" he asked. "If the range is too short, it's useless."
"Normally, it wouldn't be enough" I answered. "But he's already deepened his pact once. That unlocked Area Expansion."
"Area Expansion?" he asked.
I didn't answer right away. He was here—he should've known that already.
"When a pact deepens, the Chosen gains a second Divine Rune—so a new ability. But more importantly, it grants access to a Divine Technique: advanced applications of base abilities."
I tapped the table lightly.
"Area Expansion is one of those techniques. It doesn't create something new—it pushes the limits of an existing skill. If the ability already covers a wide range, the increase is massive. If it's more personal or focused… the growth is smaller. Meters, maybe."
"Then" I said, meeting his eyes, "it might be enough."
"But we'd need to know his full extension, just in case."
Silence.
"Call him" I ordered. "Now."
...
Darek entered fast. Sharp salute. He was loose in the shoulders, but his eyes tracked everything.
I stood at the map. "With the Area Expansion technique... what's your current maximum range?"
"Two kilometers" he said without hesitation.
"And how long can you keep vision on a target at that distance before your spiritual energy runs out?"
"One hour."
"If the distance is halved?"
"Double that."
I tilted my head. Thought.
"We're going after the new creature."
Darek flinched. Just slightly. I didn't pause.
"We'll move in a reverse-T formation. I'll be at the center with Darek. One team on each side. One up front. Each two kilometers apart. Three per team—except ours."
One of the assistants raised a concern. "Only nine? If any of the teams runs into the creature, they won't make it. Even Chosen couldn't handle it. Who'd volunteer for something like that? We can't just send soldiers into certain death."
"The creature isn't weak" I said. "That's exactly why we don't throw bodies at it. Their job is to buy time. I'll be the one to finish it."
Laris stepped in. "What about mercenaries? Some of them specialize in hunting creatures. They're not Chosen, but they know how to move in the field."
I considered it.
"Hire them. And make sure they understand what they're walking into."
I paused.
"No one's going out there blind—not even mercenaries."
Then I turned to Darek. "You won't keep your ability active the whole time. You'll cycle between teams. One glimpse, then shut it down."
"Understood" he said. "One second per team. Then deactivate."
"That'll keep it sustainable. We're building a mobile recon net."
He nodded. But there was hesitation beneath it.
I didn't wait. "How long to retrace the rune?"
"Five seconds once deactivated."
"So fifteen seconds to get through all three teams. Add five to evaluate. Add twenty to move me from center to point of contact."
"Forty seconds" I said flatly. "That's what someone has to survive, worst case."
Silence. No one questioned it.
One of the assistants spoke again. "We're relying on a single ability."
"I know" I replied. "But right now, it's the only method that avoids more death. I can't cover that much ground alone."
"We test tomorrow. Push you to full drain. Measure recovery window."
"We'll also synchronize movement. Everyone launches at the same time. We regroup at fixed intervals and reset formation."
"It's doable" I finished.
Darek met my eyes. "Understood."
Good. Because the margin for error was gone.
...
Three days later, we passed through Uruk's northern gate, eleven in total. One carriage. Silence where there should have been noise. Even the mercenaries kept their talk low, as if the thing we hunted could hear thought.
I rode facing forward, eyes sharp. I wasn't looking at the road. I was looking past it.
A grizzled man across from me finally broke the quiet. "They're paying a lot for this."
Another, younger, with a scar across his mouth, snorted. "Means we probably won't live to spend it."
"Still better than starving" said a third. "If I die out there, at least my sister gets something."
One nodded. "Beast-hunting work like this… You don't walk in blind unless you're desperate. Or mad."
None of them asked what we were after. They knew enough. And they wanted to live long enough to see the coin.
I respected that.
"Just remember" I said, cutting through the haze, "if you see it—don't be a hero. Your only job is to stay alive. I'll handle the rest."
I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.
My hand went to the ring on my finger—the one he gave me. Always the same one, every time I stepped into something I might not return from.
A habit I'd kept.
…
Three days later, we reached the edge of the outer zone by late afternoon.
The place looked empty, but it wasn't. Nothing was ever empty. Not out here.
We stepped off. No words. Just motion.
The nine mercenaries split into three groups, each moving to their assigned position with practiced ease.
Darek moved quickly, kneeling by the side of the path.
His eyes settled on one member from each group. During the journey, he'd watched them closely—memorizing faces, movements, small details. Now, he gave each a final glance, locking the memory in place.
The link required focus. Seeing them helped, but a strong memory was enough to make the connection work.
They split. One group to the right. One left. One straight forward. Each disappearing between reeds, stone, and shadow.
He activated his ability. Glimpse. Cut. Moved to the next. Again. Then the third.
When it was done, he turned to me.
"Everyone's in position" he said.
Good.
That meant it would start soon.