The vision snapped.
The heavy, metallic thud of boots on wet earth wasn't a dream anymore—it was a death knell. Through the fog, Reine saw them: at least a hundred and fifty men, a shimmering wall of gold-veined alloy fanning out across the plain.
Reine reached out, gripping Argol's shoulder and shaking him aggressively. "Argol, wake up. We're in trouble."
The little sunset fox bolted upright, its fur bristling. Beside him, Argol let out a long, slow yawn. "Trouble?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Is the Commander mad? Did we oversleep?"
"Look outside," Reine hissed.
When Argol finally crawled out of the tent, his face didn't just turn pale—it turned ghostly. "One hundred and fifty... majority swordsmen, but there are magicians in the backline." Argol's voice trembled as he adjusted his monocle, the Aether-Glass Navigator flickering as it scanned the approaching heat signatures.
Then, he saw the man in front.
He was a giant, at least 6'6", encased in heavy plate armor that looked like it belonged on a siege engine. He carried a massive saber, the tip of which was lazily dragging through the mud, leaving a deep, jagged trench in its wake.
"Sir... that man. He's Advanced rank," Argol whispered, his expression darkening with genuine terror. "The others... at least twenty of them are Intermediate. Even ten of you and ten of me wouldn't be able to kill that freak. Is that even a human?"
"We're not going to rush in like idiots," Reine growled, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the fox. "I have a plan."
The enemy reached the campsite minutes later. The giant commander came to a halt, the screech of his saber against a stray stone piercing the air.
"Commander, there's a tent here!" a soldier shouted, pointing.
"Okla! Bokla!" the giant roared with a voice like grinding boulders. "Check the tent. The rest of you, sweep the area! Nobody leaves this field alive!"
Two soldiers, twins with identical gold-veined daggers and jagged scars across their lips, stepped forward with evil grins. They tore into the tent, only to find it empty. Moments later, they emerged, holding up a small tuft of orange fur.
"Sir," Okla reported, his grin widening. "It seems two people were sleeping here. An animal, too. They must have seen us and bolted, leaving everything behind."
The giant commander grunted, a sound of pure arrogance. "They couldn't have gone far. Find them."
"Of course, sir," Bokla said, his eyes darting toward the nearby treeline. "The Kla brothers never lose a scent."
Deep in the shadows of the forest, twenty feet above the ground, Reine and Argol held their breath. They were perched on a thick oak branch, hidden by the dense, "edgy" canopy.
Below them, the fox darted through the underbrush, its violet-tinted tail acting as a perfect, taunting lure.
"There! The beast!" Okla's voice rasped from the bushes.
The two brothers broke into the clearing, their armor clanking as they chased the fox right into the center of the trap. They stopped directly beneath the branch, their heads scanning the ground for tracks, completely unaware of the two "Specialists" hovering mere feet above their heads.
Reine's hand tightened on the hilt of Aurelian. The sword felt cold and heavy, sensing the blood that was about to be spilled. He looked at Argol and gave a sharp, silent nod.
The "Kla brothers" had found their prey—but they hadn't realized they were the ones in the cage.