26

As dawn broke over the dense jungle, the gnoll camp buzzed with muted tension. The forest around them, usually humming with wildlife and morning birdsong, felt ominously silent—as if nature itself knew something had shifted during the night.

Within a crude tent stitched together from tanned hides and bark, a gnoll clad in deep red robes stood hunched over a pile of maps and bones. He was different from the others—smaller, thinner, but no less dangerous. His fur was patchy with age, his claws stained with ancient ink, and his eyes glowed with a dull green hue that marked his mastery of magic.

His name was Sharthak, the Bone-Seer.

A loud rustle broke the silence as a hulking gnoll with thick, matted fur and a scar running across his snout pushed into the tent. His breathing was heavy from running. He knelt before Sharthak, baring his fangs in a display of respect—and fear.

"Bone-Seer," the gnoll rumbled. "Six patrols. Gone."

Sharthak's eyes narrowed, the ambient magic in the tent shifting slightly. "Gone?"

The brute nodded. "Did not return. We thought they left, like others before."

That stung. For the last few moons, Sharthak's authority had been crumbling. Despite his power, many of the gnolls in the tribe were restless. Once, they were a horde of thousands. Now, only a few hundred remained. Every week, more disappeared—some fleeing their violent hierarchy, others dying from skirmishes with beasts or unknown threats in the forest.

His hands clenched tightly around the gnarled wooden staff beside him. It was carved from the bone of a giant lizard and adorned with the remains of fallen enemies. When he slammed it to the ground in rage, a spark of red fire burst from the crackling tip, and a sudden gust of heat rippled through the tent.

"Enough!" Sharthak snarled, his voice like stone grinding against steel. "They think me weak because I do not swing a club like an idiot! But magic is strength!"

The scarred gnoll flinched but did not move. He had seen firsthand what Sharthak's fire and bone rites could do.

"Find them," Sharthak commanded, his voice deadly calm. "Dead or alive, bring them back. I will show them what happens when they defy the will of the Bone-Seer."

The brute bowed and left immediately, rallying a group of elite hunters—muscle-bound gnolls with painted faces and jagged axes. They wouldn't just search. They would tear the forest apart.

But even as they prepared for the hunt, none of them realized they were being watched.

High above, hidden among the branches of a tree cloaked in thick leaves and vines, Vanthelis lay still. His body blended perfectly with the shadows, cloak draped over him like a second skin. He had returned before sunrise, moving silently, and had climbed up to this vantage point hours ago. He had seen the panic ripple through the gnoll camp. He had seen the robed leader's anger, the frightened movements of the others.

And he had smiled.

They're rattled, he thought. Good.

From his vantage point, he watched the scarred gnoll and his group head into the jungle, their movements wild and uncoordinated. The moment they stepped beyond the outer perimeter, Vanthelis slid down from the tree silently, vanishing into the underbrush.

He ran low, weaving through trees and vines until he reached the designated meeting point—a hollowed-out log deep within a gnarled grove. Kristine, Jayson, and Haben were already there, having taken the longer route through the dense forest.

"They're mobilizing," Vanthelis said without preamble. "A small strike force. They think their patrols just gone out for good"

Kristine leaned on her spear, wiping dirt from her face. "What now?"

"We finish what we started," he replied. "Now that they're weakened and spread thin, it's our turn to strike the heart."

"But don't they will guard it more cautiously now?" Haben added cautiously. "I think we should be careful."

"Maybe," Vanthelis said. "But their structure depends on fear and brute force. If their people keep disappearing, if their corpses are never found… they'll turn on each other. Panic breeds doubt. Doubt breeds collapse."

Jayson frowned. "So what, we just keep picking them off one by one?"

"No," Vanthelis said. "Tonight, we send a message."

They all fell silent. Even the wind stilled as if listening.

Vanthelis's gaze hardened, and he looked toward the thick trees where the gnoll camp smoldered in the distance.

"It's time to hunt again."