The lake's dark waters rippled faintly as Raven, Xin, and Belial turned away, their makeshift horn containers sloshing with the bitter liquid they'd claimed. The night stretched vast and unyielding before them, its silence a deceptive veil over the wasteland's lurking threats. Belial's golden eyes glinted as he scanned the horizon, his mangled shoulder throbbing but ignored, his bloodied leg a dull ache he refused to acknowledge. The ether from the scavengers pulsed faintly in his veins, a spark of strength amid the exhaustion. He hefted his sword, its blade still slick with blood, and glanced at his companions.
"We've got a long night ahead," he said, his voice rough but steady. "More monsters out there. We should keep hunting."
Xin paused, the Dharma Wheel dimming in his hands, his painted face creasing with doubt. "You're half-dead already. We all are."
Belial's grin was sharp, reckless. "And we've gotten stronger for it. Those Dusked Hollows? We're cutting through 'em now. Let's use it."
Raven nodded, his gauntlets flexing with a faint clink. "He's right. We're sharper. Faster. We can handle more."
Xin sighed, but the logic was undeniable. The ether they'd siphoned—from the Dusked Minors, the scavengers—had honed them, tempered their edges. They were battered, yes, but stronger for it, their movements more precise, their instincts keener. "Fine," he muttered, spinning the Dharma Wheel back to life. "But if you collapse, I'm not dragging you."
"Deal," Belial shot back, already moving.
They plunged back into the night, shadows among shadows, their footsteps a hushed rhythm against the cracked earth. The wasteland unfolded around them—jagged ridges, dried ravines, and twisted husks of trees clawing at the sky. The air grew colder, sharper, carrying the faint tang of ether and the promise of violence. They hunted in silence, senses straining for the telltale signs of prey.
The first Dusked Hollow found them within the hour.
It emerged from a jagged ravine, dragging itself out of the abyss like a nightmare given flesh. The creature was a hulking aberration, its frame skeletal but powerful, draped in leathery sinew that shimmered with slick rot. A hollowed-out cavity in its chest pulsed with a faint bioluminescent glow—ether veins crisscrossing like a corrupted star map. Its arms dangled too long, ending in claws made from calcified bone, clicking against stone as it crept forward. No eyes marked its skull, only jagged ridges and the stench of death.
It turned its eyeless face toward the trio, guided by the scent of spilled blood. The air trembled with a low-frequency wail.
Belial didn't wait.
He rushed forward, his blade already igniting with a glow of ether following faint glimmer of crimson. He leapt high, twisting in mid-air as he brought the sword down in a vicious arc. The weapon cleaved through the creature's arm, shearing bone and sinew. Black ichor sprayed, sizzling as it hit the rocks.
The Dusked Hollow let out a sound that wasn't a scream but something far more ancient—an echoing cry that seemed to rattle through the bones of the earth. It swung its remaining arm toward Belial in retaliation, claws slicing the air with a whistling shriek.
Raven was already moving.
He flanked the beast with speed and force, his gauntlets flaring with compressed ether. One thunderous punch cracked the creature's ribcage, sending ripples through its malformed body. Ether exploded on contact, shaking the creature's balance.
It reeled, but not fast enough.
Xin stepped into the fray, the golden Dharma Wheel at his back spinning like the eye of a god. With a fluid gesture, he summoned a burst of golden ether, shaping it into a radiant shield. The energy wave collided with the Dusked Hollow's remaining arm just as it lashed out at Raven, deflecting the strike with an audible hum of power. The recoil staggered the beast.
Belial landed behind it, twisted into a second strike, and drove his sword upward through its chest cavity. The weapon sliced through the bioluminescent core. Light flared, and the Hollow gave one last distorted howl before collapsing into a pile of crumbling dust.
"Too easy," Belial said, panting, a bloody grin splitting his face. He flicked ichor from the blade with a practiced motion.
Xin raised an eyebrow. "Don't get cocky." Yet even he couldn't suppress a faint smirk.
They pressed on.
The second Hollow struck with no warning. A massive specimen...twice the height of a man—leapt from a ridge with an ear-splitting screech. Its hide was thick, reinforced with plates of natural armor, and its claws were longer than a sword. As it landed, the ground shook beneath its weight.
Raven didn't flinch.
He launched upward into its path, gauntlets outstretched. The clash was titanic—metal slammed against bone, sparks flying as the two forces collided mid-air. Raven twisted his stance, redirecting the beast's momentum, and slammed it down into the stone floor below. The earth cracked beneath them.
Xin didn't hesitate. The Dharma Wheel spun like a sawblade, slicing through the air and severing one of the Hollow's limbs clean off. Blood arced into the sky, catching the moonlight like twisted fireworks.
Belial darted in, his sword glowing white-hot with focused ether. With a roar, he plunged it into the Hollow's chest. The impact triggered a pulse of raw energy, detonating the core inside the creature. In a flash of radiant destruction, the Hollow disintegrated.
They moved as one—an unholy rhythm of violence and purpose. Each step forward was a declaration: they were not prey.
The third Hollow found them near a dried riverbed. Its approach was swift, stealthy. The moment it struck, whip-like limbs lashed from both sides.
Raven caught one arm mid-strike, ether absorbing the impact through his gauntlets. Xin spun the Dharma Wheel in a defensive arc, forming a kinetic barrier that intercepted the other. Belial dove beneath both attacks, his injured leg buckling slightly but holding as he unleashed a brutal upward slash.
The blade tore through the Hollow's torso. Raven followed up with a savage uppercut that shattered the creature's jaw. Xin ended it with a focused blast of golden ether, the burst piercing the core and blowing the beast into dust.
"Stronger," Belial said, gasping but energized.
Raven only grunted. Xin gave a nod, his gaze sharp.
Then came the fourth.
This one was smaller...but faster nevertheless. Its movements were erratic, almost rabid, claws whistling through the air like serrated scythes.
It came for Raven, who stood his ground as claws sparked off his gauntlets. He ducked and rolled, redirecting the creature's momentum again and again. Xin moved like a dancer, the Dharma Wheel now a weapon of deadly precision. With a sideways flick, he cut through the beast's leg, dropping it.
Belial seized the moment. He leapt above the beast, sword flaming, and drove the blade through its back. The ether core exploded, consuming the monster in radiant ash.
The fifth encounter was different.
Two Hollows moved in tandem, stalking from both sides of a ravine. Raven intercepted the first, catching its claws and snapping the limb with a sound like cracking timber. Xin responded to the second, spinning his Dharma Wheel into an arc of golden light that sliced its extended arm clean off.
Belial, ever the opportunist, dashed in. His sword carved through the wounded Hollow's chest in a horizontal slash, sending it sprawling. Raven finished the first with a gauntlet blow that crushed its skull, the light from its core sputtering out like a dying star.
By the time the sixth Hollow charged—a creature of muscle and rage—the trio was bloodied, battered, but honed to perfection. It charged them, its bellow a thunderous roar. Raven held it at bay, his feet skidding across the dirt. Xin launched his Dharma Wheel like a disc, cutting deep into the beast's thigh. Belial struck low, then high, his sword carving a brutal X into its chest. Raven ended it, his fist crashing through its skull as ether pulsed from his armor.
When the dust settled, they were standing in a battlefield made from ash and broken stone. Blood painted their armor, but their eyes burned bright.
Belial leaned against his sword. "Told you," he rasped. "We're damn near unstoppable now."
Xin exhaled and shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're insane."
Raven, ever the quiet one, smirked—a rare gesture but he really didn't, Xin felt that he did under that helmets at least. "Works, though."
Above, the sky began to shift. The deep bruise of night faded into a sickly glassy, dawn creeping in like an infection. The eerie hue cast long shadows and made their bloodstained forms seem more monstrous than heroic.
"Back to the cave," Raven said, his voice a low growl. "We've pushed it far enough."
And together, the three vanished into the pale morning mist, leaving only silence—and dust.
They retraced their steps, the wasteland quieter now, the ether mist thinning as the sun's first rays pierced the horizon. The cave loomed ahead, a dark slit in the rock, their sanctuary after a night of carnage. But as they approached, a chill crawled up Xin's spine, his echolocation tingling with something wrong. He slowed, his hand tightening on the Dharma Wheel. "Wait."
Raven stopped, his gauntlets flexing. Belial frowned, limping forward. "What?"
Xin's eyes narrowed, scanning the entrance. The air felt off—too still, too heavy. They stepped closer, and the truth hit them like a blow.
The cave was ruined.
Their camp...their fragile refuge...was a wreck. The makeshift alchemy station Xin had set up lay shattered, vials crushed into glittering dust, notes torn and scattered. The fungal glow was dimmed, half the growths smashed into pulp. The rock slab where they'd played chess was cracked in two, the carved pieces scattered like fallen soldiers. Their meager supplies, meat scraps, water horns were in a mess, the ground scuffed with chaotic marks, but no blood, no bodies, no sign of what had done this.
"What the hell hit this?" Belial muttered, his voice tight as he gripped his sword, scanning the shadows.