Deniro and his group move deeper into the jungle without hesitation. The moment they enter, the world behind them is gone, replaced by dense rainforest closing in from all sides.
Massive leaves overlap in heavy layers, dripping with moisture, while vines hang between trees so tall their tops vanish into the canopy. The ground is soft and uneven, covered in decayed leaves and tangled roots that twist beneath their steps.
Sound fills the space in all directions, insects overlapping in constant motion, distant shifts moving through branches, and heavier disturbances pushing through unseen undergrowth.
Kaela's trail remains visible at first: bent grass, snapped twigs, and faint prints in soft mud left in haste. Deniro follows it without hesitation, reading each sign as it appears, with Wolly close behind and Victor trailing further back due to the gap in their levels.
"Hey, wait up," Victor calls out, his voice edged with frustration as he forces himself over uneven ground.
His footing slips slightly on a patch of wet moss, and he catches himself just before falling, letting out a low, irritated grunt.
"Tch… damn it."
He steadies his breath and continues forward, jaw tight, every step feeling heavier than it should.
"What a damn mess… Walking through a jungle and it already feels like this…"
His foot slips slightly again and he corrects it with an annoyed exhale.
"…I swear, this place is rigged."
He clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he pushes through another cluster of wet roots.
"Losing all my levels right after stepping throught the gate, and now this… feels like I'm dragging dead weight just to move forward…"
For a while, the pursuit holds steady, until the signs begin to fade. The ground disturbance becomes inconsistent, as if the path itself is being erased between moments.
Broken foliage appears less frequently. Even when they find something, it feels uncertain, too faint, too easily confused with natural decay. Deniro slows slightly, and then stops, looking around with mild confusion.
Wolly catches up to Deniro and stops as well, exhaling through his nose. "She's wearing a lightweight agility set. 'Hushweave Clothes' and 'Miststep Boots'. They cut friction, don't snag on branches, and spread out pressure so she barely leaves any weight marks on the ground."
He clicks his tongue. "Hard to track. Annoying setup when it's our turn to follow her."
Deniro finds a faint mark near the base of a tree, studies it briefly, then stands again.
"Still ahead," he says.
They push forward, but the trail soon breaks again, forcing them to stop and scan the terrain for any consistent signs to follow.
A moment later, Victor emerges through the foliage, slower than the others but moving with steady focus. He doesn't pause or break stride, his eyes constantly reading faint disturbances in the soil and broken vegetation as he passes, already forming his judgment in real time.
"This way," he says.
Wolly clicks his tongue. "So now a level 1 hunter is acting like the leader of the team?"
"I may have lost all my levels," Victor says, "but I didn't forget how to track a trail."
Deniro and Wolly fall in behind without argument, adjusting their pace as they recognize the precision in Victor's tracking. Whatever was reset, his hunter instinct remains intact, shaped by experience that death didn't erase.
Victor leads on, his readings growing more confident as they move deeper into the jungle.
"If her tracks are getting this faint," he says, "it means her movement is slowing down too." He looks back at Deniro, smiling casually. "Or she already lost whoever she's looking for."
"Keep moving," Deniro says, voice flat. "Losing the trail means she doesn't know where her target is. She could be walking straight into an ambush where level differences don't matter anymore."
Victor scoffs softly and turns forward again, pushing deeper into the jungle. His expression stays tight, irritation building as Deniro continues treating Arven like a real threat worth worrying about, even shifting concern toward Kaela's safety.
The thought feels wrong to him, almost ironic, as if he has forgotten who killed him earlier.
***
Meanwhile, Kaela has already stopped deep inside the jungle, far beyond any clear sense of direction.
She stands still among towering trees and tangled vines, realizing she has not only lost Arven's trail but also the path back to the others.
The understanding settles in slowly, turning the forest into something unfamiliar and disorienting. She was never truly skilled at tracking in terrain like this.
Earlier, she could still follow fragments of movement; shadows shifting between trees, brief disturbances in the bushes as Arven moved ahead.
Now there is nothing at all, only stillness pressing in from every side, making each direction feels identical.
She turns slowly, then again, trying to reorient herself, but every attempt leads nowhere.
"Damn it… what should I do now?"
Unbeknownst to her, Arven is right above her, perched high on a thick branch where the canopy overlaps in dense, layered shadow. His Soulpiercer remains active in his hand, still wrapped in condensed blue mana plasma, its edge stable, sharp, and carefully controlled.
He watches Kaela without rushing, waiting for a precise opening while continuously studying her movement and equipment. His assessment is purely experiential, noting the girl's items.
The "Hushweave Clothes" are lightweight and flexible, built to reduce resistance during motion. They enhance evasion by minimizing friction and dispersing impact, while also offering mild cold resistance suited for prolonged exposure in this environment, especially in the night.
The "Miststep Boots" complement them, improving balance, footspeed, and reducing both sound and ground imprint with each step.
Together, they make her significantly harder to track in dense terrain. More importantly, they narrow the window for a clean, one-hit ambush.
Arven's gaze lingers. The hesitation is not doubt in capability, but in timing. Killing her here is straightforward in execution, but only if the strike is absolute. Anything less will risk a prolonged engagement in an environment where control is easily lost and exposure leads to interception.
Still, it is not enough to make her untouchable, and the items remain valuable enough to justify the risk. Arven shifts slightly along the branch, moving with controlled silence as he prepares to descend into position.
But Just before he leaps into ambush, movement enters below.
"Kaela! There you are!"
Victor appears first, cutting through the foliage with forced speed. Behind him, Deniro and Wolly follow with measured control, scanning as they advance.
Arven immediately stills, lowering the dagger as he hides his presence. His breathing slows, controlled and quiet, remaining unseen above them.
Wolly steps closer, irritation in his voice. "You went off on your own again. Do you even realize how hard it is to track someone in this terrain? You were supposed to stay with the group."
Kaela doesn't look at him. "Shut up. Don't act like you're leading anyone. You're not the leader of this team."
Wolly shifts forward, irritation rising, but Deniro cuts through it immediately.
"Enough."
His gaze moves past Wolly and locks onto Kaela. "I already warned you not to break off alone. But you ignored it anyway."
A brief pause follows, heavier than the words themselves. "I'd rather kill you myself than let someone else take your head and grow stronger off it."
Kaela's eyes flick away, avoiding Deniro's stare, tension tightening her jaw as she refuses to meet him directly.
Deniro turns slightly forward. "Victor, get us out of this place. We can't stay exposed in terrain like this."
Victor moves ahead. Wolly follows, still visibly annoyed. Kaela clicks her tongue once, and then falls in line. Deniro takes the rear as they begin moving through the jungle.
Arven shifts to move, intending to leave too. But only makes a slight adjustment high in the tree, and Deniro stops at once. The others notice the change and slow as well.
Arven catches the reaction and remains perfectly still, melting back into cover without a sound.
"Damn… after that reset, my movements aren't as smooth as they used to."
Deniro's eyes narrow as he scans the surrounding trees. His hand lowers to his side, and a small dagger appears in his grip. A thin layer of ice begins to form along its edge, creeping in fine crystalline lines.
The temperature in his presence feels sharper. Then suddenly, Deniro swings his dagger in a clean motion.
The slash releases a strip of cold air that solidifies mid-flight into small ice shards, cutting through the distance and striking something on the tree.
"Shierrrk!!!"
A squirrel, oversized like a house cat, drops from the branches.
Before it even hits the ground, Kaela fires an arrow. It pierces the falling body mid-air and pins it hard against the trunk.
Arven observes everything in silence, not the kill, but the mechanics behind it. Especially Deniro, his technique stands out most clearly.
It's a melee precision combined with elemental projection, fast and deliberate, with no visible reliance on heavy casting. And yet, Deniro doesn't carry himself like a mage.
His stance is grounded, compact, almost like a knight trained for close combat or an assassin built for burst engagement.
Arven's gaze sharpens at that. "An Arcane Knight…?!"
He watches the man longer than needed, something inside him tightening. His focus sharpens as the thought of testing that man's strength settles in almost instinctively.