Season 1. Chapter 73: Duskwane season

Chapter 4 – The Systematic Ping

After the last of the fairy dust settled, and Velindra cleaned the smear of shimmering residue off her gloves, the group slowly regained their composure.

Darion rechecked his camera's battery life. Rowin adjusted his scarf. Bigfoot gave a low grunt, arms crossed, staring into the trees where the fairy disappeared.

But Velindra was already pulling up her Systematic Guide Chat, her gloved fingers typing with sharp efficiency.

> Systematic Chatroom

[🟢 Oliver]

[⚫ Zack]

[🦊 Nico]

[🗡 Velindra]

Her brows lifted beneath her black mask.

> "Wait..." she muttered, voice almost cracking in surprise. "He's here... Zack Erebus."

Rowin's ears perked.

> "Zack... Erebus? The Silent Stalker?" he asked, already tugging his camera into a better angle. "No way! That guy's in this region?"

Darion fumbled, trying to steady the secondary camera drone while syncing the screen.

Bigfoot just grunted.

The chat blinked with a new message:

> 🟢 Oliver:

"Hey. Doing alright. We just finished a big level involving some enchanted ambers. Zack got a real one. Nico burned someone—again. Typical."

> 🟢 Oliver:

"Wait... crap. Gotta go. Nico just picked a fight with a mini Land Beast. I told him not to touch anything glowing, but here we are."

> 🟢 Oliver has left the chat.

The screen dimmed. Everyone froze.

> "Mini Land Beast?" Velindra whispered.

> "Zack Erebus… is traveling with that guy?" Darion looked shocked.

> "Wait wait—Zack's the one who took out those elite amber players in the Illusion Forest last week, right?" Rowin said, now filming himself again. "You're telling me that guy's casually hanging out with a green-ranked newbie and a pyromaniac fox? No wonder the chat ended—they're probably halfway to hell right now."

Velindra stared at the frozen black icon in the chat, the infamous one only tagged by a handful of top-ranked rogues and elites.

> "He doesn't usually team up with anyone," she said quietly. "Why them?"

Darion shrugged. "Maybe he's watching them. Or using them."

> "Or..." Rowin added dramatically, pointing at the camera, "...maybe they're stronger than we think."

Bigfoot gave a loud snort.

The camera zoomed in on Rowin's face as he gave a wink to his stream.

> "Looks like the camp saga just got a lot more interesting."

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Chapter 5 – The Viral Clip

A sharp ding echoed from Velindra's Systematic Guide as a video notification popped up.

> 🟢 Oliver sent a video file.

She tapped it without hesitation. The screen lit up—smoky, raw footage began to play.

The video was shaky at first, as if shot in a hurry. A grassy hill field under a pale violet sky—wind slicing across the landscape, long grass bowing to a force far beyond natural. The camera panned upward—brief flashes of battle filled the frame.

Oliver, masked in his distinct white mask, crouched behind a twisted birch tree, gripping an iron sword in his gloved hands. His voice was silent, but the tension in his posture was clear.

Then the video tilted left—

A shadow twisted unnaturally against the light.

Zack Erebus stood front and center, veiled in dusk, his hand weaving the air—his infamous nonexistent threads, glistening faintly in black and violet, wrapped around the legs of a massive creature that seemed half-plant, half-beast.

The Mini Land Beast rose like a malformed bushfire—its body a churning mass of roots, vines, and soil, with glimmering yellow eyes sunken into its leafy skull. Grass whipped around it, reacting to its emotions.

Nico's voice could be heard faintly, shouting something unintelligible before erupting a blast of fire directly into the bushy chest of the beast. Smoke shot into the sky, curling upward in ugly streaks.

In the background, the wind screamed louder than any creature. Leaves flew past the lens.

Then the video cut.

---

Velindra's jaw tensed. Rowin immediately snatched the device from her hand and replayed the video.

> "Oh. My. Viewers. This..." he grinned wide, "…is gold."

Darion was already transferring the video into his highlight reel folder, labeling it:

"Mini Land Beast Encounter // Rare Footage // Zack Erebus + Nico + Oliver???"

> "This is gonna blow up," Darion muttered. "People love chaos."

Bigfoot looked over their shoulders, grunting again with mild interest.

Velindra narrowed her eyes. "That thing was real. A mini land beast. If one's here... more can come. That wasn't just for show."

Rowin didn't seem to care. He was pacing now, rambling to the invisible stream:

> "Imagine this: the Silent Stalker himself, the pyrofox, and that earthy human—fighting a land beast! We're not even past the camp arc yet, and this is happening. I told you Caelus was heating up."

Velindra crossed her arms, watching the final frame of the video again: Zack standing completely still, holding the beast mid-writhing with his threads, the storm behind him, flames dancing nearby.

> "It wasn't just chaos," she said flatly. "It was control. All three of them... they're syncing."

Darion added, "Maybe this is why Zack sticks with them. They're like weird puzzle pieces that click."

Rowin saved the video to his main Systematic profile, prepping to publish it once they returned to camp.

> "This is going to be a one-hit wonder, Vel," he said. "We're talking over a hundred thousand views, easy."

Velindra didn't respond. Her eyes remained locked on the still of the land beast's face—rooted anger, primal and old.

And now... they knew the truth.

The land beasts were coming.

This was only a preview.

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Chapter 6 – The Second Beast

Bigfoot froze mid-step, his shaggy brown fur bristling in waves. A low, thunderous grunt escaped his throat, deeper than before—warning.

Velindra was the first to react.

> "Something's wrong."

Bigfoot suddenly pointed behind them, his massive hand trembling slightly.

Everyone turned.

And that's when they saw it.

Emerging from the warped mist between two leaning pine trees, a second Land Beast lumbered forward—this one larger, nearly twice the size of the mini beast from Oliver's video. Its form towered like an ancient dinosaur-shaped creature, but its skin was made of layered leaves, bark plates, and thorny vines. Glowing amber sap oozed slowly from its sides like blood, steaming faintly as it hit the ground.

Its feet were roots turned into claws, every step sending shockwaves into the dirt. When it opened its jagged maw, it roared with the sound of a forest fire, gales of wind erupting from its throat.

Rowin dropped his phone.

> "Oh no... oh no no no, that's not—this wasn't in the plan!"

Darion fumbled to record but his hands were trembling. "Forget the stream! We're gonna die for content!"

Velindra didn't hesitate. She pulled both daggers, leapt in front of the group, and shouted:

> "Bigfoot! Defensive!"

Bigfoot let out a defiant roar, slamming both fists into the ground and sending up a plume of dust. Then, with surprising agility, the 7-foot beast charged toward the towering creature, trying to buy them seconds.

Rowin scrambled for his dagger.

> "We are not equipped for this! That thing's a green-level threat at least!"

> "No," Velindra muttered, eyes darting. "This one's worse. I can feel it. It's... ancient."

The forest bent and groaned as the creature moved forward. Birds scattered. Leaves whirled violently. The pressure in the air thickened, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Darion whispered, "Where's Zack when you need him?"

The Land Beast's glowing eyes locked onto them—all of them. No fear, no hesitation. Just instinct.

Hunt. Crush. Reclaim.

Velindra clicked into the Systematic Guide—

> 📲 [Emergency Message]: @Oliver @Zack @Riven – "Land Beast just spawned near the Rouge Unit. Too big. Need help now."

As the message sent, the ground exploded—the Land Beast reared its leaf-wrapped neck and swung its tail, smashing trees as if they were brittle bones.

Rowin turned to Velindra, "What do we do?!"

Velindra stared at the monster, calm as ever.

> "We survive."

"And we stall until help arrives."

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Chapter 7 — Rouge Formation: The Thorn Clash

The land beast towered above the Rouge Unit, its massive leaf-scaled form shifting with menace. Every step quaked the forest floor. The air stung with sap and static.

Velindra hissed under her breath.

> "Formation now. Bigfoot — front. Darion — barrier flank. Rowin, you're with me. Let's carve this thing down."

Bigfoot moved first, slamming his fists into the earth, creating a low auric thump — his skill wasn't flashy like elemental manipulation, but his Vita threads formed a defensive grid of invisible hexagonal shields in front of the team, rooted into the earth with tension.

The Land Beast lunged, slamming its root-like claws into Bigfoot's shields. The defense held, but cracked under pressure.

> CRACK!

Bigfoot grunted, sliding back but maintaining the wall.

Darion dashed in behind him, twin daggers glinting, each with thin threads trailing from the hilts to his fingertips. He danced across the line, flipping a small reflective charm from his belt, activating a short-range illusion — a mirror field that projected phantom doubles of the team five feet left and right.

The beast swung — hitting nothing but illusions.

> "Buy us time!" Darion shouted. "It's reactive! Focus on vision disruption!"

Velindra didn't wait. She was a blur, spinning beneath the beast, twin curved daggers slashing the underside of its leafy limbs. The blades sparked against bark-like armor, slicing through sap veins.

Rowin followed her rhythm, his dagger coated in green extract — a potent slowing potion-laced venom.

> "Let's see if this slows you down, you walking shrub!"

He hurled the blade, and it lodged into the creature's shoulder, the toxin immediately reacting — vines around the beast's forearm slowed, visibly stiffening.

The creature shrieked, vines retracting into itself before sprouting dozens of whip-like branches, sweeping the field.

> "Bigfoot—!"

WHAM!

Bigfoot stood tall, arms raised, taking the full brunt of the vine slap — it threw him back into a tree, bark cracking under his massive frame.

Velindra clicked her teeth. "We can't brute-force this. Darion, thread trap."

Darion twirled, threads already coiled between branches. With one sharp tug, dagger wires snapped taut, wrapping around the beast's ankle. It stumbled, vines snagged. That gave Rowin the chance to leap onto a branch, vault from above, and plunge his second blade into the beast's upper back.

> Thud!

"Gotcha—!"

But the beast wasn't done. A thorn tail lashed around, smacking Rowin midair. He spiraled into a tree, groaning on impact.

Velindra caught his body mid-fall, her face intense.

> "Don't go showboating again, streamer."

Darion stepped up beside them, flipping his daggers in rhythm. "We need more than just hits. We need to down it."

Velindra nodded. "I'll go under. Distract it."

The others moved as she vanished into the underbrush, using her shadow cloak, becoming a blur. She reappeared under the beast, drove her blades deep into its joints, then twisted — sap exploded, and the beast buckled.

Bigfoot, recovered, roared back into the field — shouldering the beast's weakened leg. The force toppled the creature just slightly — enough for Darion to snap his final thread trap and pull.

The beast fell partially sideways.

Rowin got up, wiped blood from his cheek, and yelled, "Now!"

All four Rouges leapt together — Bigfoot slammed both fists into its chest, Velindra pierced the exposed underside, Darion wrapped its neck in tension threads, and Rowin drove his dagger between its glowing eyes.

The creature screeched, shook, then slumped, vines twitching in the air… before falling completely still.

Breathing heavy. Silence.

A faint pulse in the woods. It was dead.

Rowin collapsed to his knees.

> "Okay... maybe that was worth streaming."

Velindra checked her daggers, then rolled her neck.

> "Rouge unit. Confirmed Land Beast takedown."

Darion, sweating, offered a weak smile.

> "Can we… never do that again?"

Bigfoot just raised his arms and grunted triumphantly.

---

End of Chapter 7: Thorn Clash

The Rouge Team has survived a Land Beast encounter — without Vita, only with steel, speed, and strategy.

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Chapter 8 — The Green-Eyed Host

The celebration was short-lived.

Rowin held his camera high, beaming with sweat and triumph.

> "Land Beast down! Stream's alive! Who says Rouges are just backup class—?"

Velindra froze, her dagger halfway into her sheath. Her irises flickered a strange green light—her Detection Sight activating.

> "Don't move."

Bigfoot turned slowly, grunting low. From the bushes, dozens of figures emerged—short, green-skinned, clad in makeshift armor, some wearing vine-woven belts, others holding iron daggers and spears. Goblin warriors.

And behind them, the low growls of Woodland Wolves, fangs dripping with sap and saliva.

The Rouges immediately went back to back, forming a diamond formation—Bigfoot in the center as the frontline tank.

> "Goblin raiders?" Darion muttered, twirling his daggers nervously.

"No," Velindra corrected, voice sharp. "Too uniform. Too clean. Look at those weapons—iron. Goblins don't smelt iron. They were supplied."

Rowin, still clutching his camera, tried to gather a visual.

> "Maybe we can talk—"

> "Lower that camera, genius," Velindra snapped. "They've got us boxed in."

The goblins tightened the ring. One stepped forward—a taller goblin, with layered iron pauldrons and a wand. His ears twitched as he eyed each of them coldly. Then, without a word, he raised the wand, and a sudden pulse of blue-silver glyphs shimmered across the air.

> CRACK!

Bigfoot's shield fractured instantly, splitting like glass under pressure.

Darion stumbled. "What the—?! They overrode our barrier?"

Velindra's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't Vita. That was magic."

The goblins were indeed using outdated but powerful pre-Vita arcana—their wands and trinkets glowing faintly with volatile glyphs. Unlike Vita, which flowed with the world, magic twisted it—forcing outcomes rather than harmonizing with them.

> "That's why it worked," Velindra said. "Magic interferes at the atomic scale... especially when Vita users are inexperienced."

Rowin clenched his fist. "Well, let's test their shields." He conjured a small sphere of water, pulled from a potion gourd on his belt, and launched it toward one of the goblins.

The goblin calmly raised his wand and whispered something.

> Fwoosh!

The water ball instantly dispersed into mist before impact.

Rowin's eyes widened. "That… wasn't normal Vita dispersion. That's real spellwork."

> "Confirmed," Velindra muttered. "Whoever's backing these goblins… they're trained. And they're teaching traditional spellcasting."

The goblins slowly began to circle inward, their wolves slinking beside them, ready to pounce. It wasn't a wild assault—it was coordinated. Tactically sound. Intelligent.

> "We're not dealing with monsters," Darion whispered. "We're dealing with a damn militia."

Bigfoot roared, slamming his fists into the ground again—but no barrier formed this time. Something in the magic interference scrambled his internal thread-weaving.

> "We need an exit plan," Velindra hissed.

> "How?" Rowin asked, sweating. "They've boxed every direction!"

Then, from within the Goblin ranks—a new voice.

A soft, cheerful tone.

> "That's enough."

The goblins lowered their weapons. The wolves backed off.

Out from the trees stepped a lavender-haired girl, a long flowing cloak dusted in star-shaped embroidery. She smiled warmly.

> "Let's not scare them too much."

Velindra's eyes flicked instantly—she knew who this was.

> "...Patchouli."

The sorceress, self-appointed protector of the goblins, stood at the edge of the clearing, arms folded, glowing softly with Verse magic—not Vita, and not traditional spellcasting either.

> "These Rouges just defeated a Land Beast, didn't they?" Patchouli asked gently. "They've earned their rest."

The Goblin commander slowly lowered his wand and nodded.

Patchouli smiled.

> "Come, let's talk. You're guests now, not enemies."

Velindra didn't move at first, but Rowin gently touched her arm.

> "Velindra… she's got them under control."

Velindra frowned. "More like she's controlling them."

Patchouli chuckled. "You can decide that later. For now… I think we all have things to gain from this."

The Rouges exchanged tense glances as they stepped forward—surrounded by Goblins, in the woods of warped paths, now facing not just beasts or traps—but a new political power:

Patchouli and the Goblin Accord.

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Chapter 9 — The Path of the Verdant Flame

The air was humid with July's heat. The dense forest buzzed with midsummer life—crickets chirping, warm winds brushing through the tangled canopy, and golden motes drifting in the air like fireflies. The Rouges had no choice but to follow the girl who had just disarmed a goblin standoff with a smile and a glow.

Patchouli.

She moved gracefully through the underbrush, her lavender hair shimmering, her voice full of playful smugness as she spoke.

> "You know, being a leader of monsters? Much more fun than school ever was. No deadlines. No cliques. No teachers breathing down your neck. Just magic, misfits, and survival."

Velindra walked silently behind her, hands still near her daggers. Darion tapped his screen occasionally, checking camera feeds, and Bigfoot lumbered on silently.

Rowin, however, stayed toward the back, brushing his orange hair in thought, one hand resting close to the dagger in his jacket.

> "You don't trust her," Velindra muttered.

> "She's too calm. Too in control," Rowin whispered. "We just fought a beast, and now we're being babysat through goblin territory like it's some school field trip."

Velindra's green irises flashed. "Don't get any ideas. If she wanted to eliminate us, she'd do it with a redirect spell before we even blinked. You saw what her goblins did—magic, not Vita. Someone's been training them... and it's probably her."

Rowin sighed, still gripping the knife hilt. "Just saying. Smiling sorceresses with a private goblin militia? That's usually a villain origin story."

Patchouli turned slightly, catching his gaze as if she'd heard every word.

> "Relax, Rowin. I'm not the villain," she said sweetly. "I'm the one giving these goblins names. Giving them dignity. Teaching them to think past burning villages and living in holes. Funny how that makes people nervous."

She grinned and spun mid-step, arms wide like a host presenting a grand stage.

> "Besides, this is a historic summer. Cindrelis is almost here—the first trial for the new generation of Travelers. You're going to want allies."

> "Cindrelis?" Darion blinked. "That's a location?"

Patchouli smirked. "It's an event. All Travelers blue-ranked and below are drawn into a universal scenario. A cosmic test. Think of it like... a tutorial, but live, dangerous, and judged by beings way beyond your paygrade."

Velindra raised a brow. "And August?"

> "Duskwane. Or Arou, depending on the region. That's when the Land Beast returns. Not a mini one like your friends are fighting..." Patchouli's voice lowered. "The real one. The thing that eats mountains and crushes lakes."

> "Great," Rowin muttered. "End of the world… in a month."

Soon, the forest trees parted.

Before them sat the Goblin Village, hidden in a valley of green embers and stone-ringed huts. Smoke rose from little vents, and goblins chattered, ran, and carried tools—not just clubs, but wood-carved staffs, metal pots, and scrolls. It looked like a real settlement, not a monster lair.

Patchouli stopped just before the main gate, flanked by two taller goblins holding spears.

> "Welcome to the Verdant Accord, the first civilized goblin alliance. You'll be safe here… for now. As long as you don't draw weapons."

Rowin paused at the threshold. Something about this felt… bigger than just a village.

> "Why help goblins?" he asked. "Why not work with Riven? Or the main camps?"

Patchouli looked back over her shoulder, eyes glinting.

> "Because they already have leaders. These ones?" She nodded toward the goblins hammering away at a structure with real blueprints in hand. "They've been forgotten. But when the Land Beast comes, and the reset wipes the board… I'd rather stand beside those who remember who helped them first."

Velindra's voice was a whisper. "She's building an army…"

And yet, behind Patchouli's smile, Rowin could see it too: the unfolding of power, the gathering of tribes, and the rise of leaders who weren't chosen by the system—but made their own place within it.

---

End of Chapter 9 — The Path of the Verdant Flame

With summer passing, trials looming, and war monsters rumbling beneath the soil... alliances may be the only chance for survival. But who can be trusted when everyone's building an empire?

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