Chapter 28 – The Hunters' Pact

It had been quiet for too long.

Too still.

We moved through a grove of iridescent trees, their petals pulsing with soft light as if breathing with the land. The Spring Quadrant never lost its beauty—but now, it wore its elegance like a predator's lure.

Freya was the first to stop.

"Something's wrong."

I turned back to see her crouched low, nostrils flaring. Her golden eyes flicked through the undergrowth like a predator sensing another.

"Not wrong," she said, standing slowly. "Organized."

Lyssira raised her staff. "We're being watched again."

I closed my eyes and reached inward—letting the dragon's instinct stir. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Yes… we were being boxed in.

But this time, they weren't charging blindly.

We reached the edge of a crumbling ruin—half-sunken into the glowing moss. Time-worn pillars jutted from the earth like shattered fangs. Carved into the largest stone was a symbol: a spiral within a claw.

Freya hissed. "That's a bounty sigil. Someone placed a formal hunt on you."

"Which academy?" I asked.

Lyssira narrowed her eyes. "That mark belongs to the Crimson Apex Academy. It means you're officially a target."

"Good," I muttered, stepping forward. "Let them come."

We didn't wait long.

From the trees and the ruins, six figures emerged—cloaked in different colors and energy signatures. This wasn't a random ambush. This was a pact.

A coordinated hunt.

Their leader stepped forward—a towering being with skin of molten bronze and eyes like twin suns. I recognized his race from Seraphine's teachings: Starforged. Born in stellar crucibles.

"We don't want to kill you," he said. "But the prospect title belongs to the worthy."

"And you think that's you?" I asked.

"No. But I'll be the one to strip it from you so someone more deserving can take it."

"Then try."

The battle began in a blink.

Freya transformed mid-air, her body twisting into a beast with obsidian feathers and tusks of shadow. She collided with a Veilspawn assassin, the clash echoing like thunder.

Lyssira chanted behind me, green and gold magic spiraling around her as thorned roots surged from the ground, trapping two opponents.

The Starforged rushed me, fists blazing with nuclear heat. I met him head-on.

His strength was immense. With every punch, the ground cratered beneath us. But I didn't fall back. I moved like water, my body flowing with the rhythm of the fight. Each block, each strike, each breath—it wasn't training anymore.

It was instinct.

Draconic instinct.

I exhaled, and silver fire flared from my mouth, catching the Starforged across the chest. He staggered. I pressed forward.

Beside me, Lyssira was glowing. Her roots were no longer just binding—they were learning, adapting to enemy movements, responding without her command.

Freya let out a guttural roar as she knocked her opponent out cold—but her breath was ragged. I saw her eyes flicker, struggling to hold form.

"Freya, shift back!" Lyssira shouted.

"No! Just a little longer—"

She slammed into another hunter, barely avoiding a fatal strike. Blood sprayed the grass.

My rage spiked.

Wings erupted from my back—pure energy for now, shaped by the essence Seraphine had gifted. My skin pulsed with radiant white. My voice deepened, layered with a draconic growl.

I struck the Starforged with a blow that shattered the air. His body was flung across the ruins, skidding to a halt in a heap of fire and metal.

Silence returned.

The pact was broken.

We stood panting amid the ruins. Freya limped to my side, still bleeding but grinning through her pain. "That… wasn't bad."

Lyssira walked beside me, her eyes filled with pride and concern. "They're coming stronger now. This won't be the last."

"No," I agreed. "But we'll be ready."

A shadow moved behind a shattered column.

Another figure.

This one didn't attack.

He was tall, thin, and cloaked in voidsilk. His eyes were twin spheres of obsidian—deep, ancient, unreadable.

A Netherkin.

"You've claimed the title of prospect," he said calmly. "But titles can be stolen."

I stepped forward. "Then come take it."

He chuckled. "Not today. I just came to deliver a message."

"What message?"

He turned, fading into shadow. "You're not the only prospect anymore."

And then he was gone.

We looked to the horizon. The Tree loomed ever distant.

But the path ahead had changed.

Prospect… or prey?