Packing became a ritual.
Leather straps were tightened, loosened, and tightened again. Waterskins were filled twice. Spell books were wrapped in oilcloth and tucked carefully into packs. Even things that didn't strictly matter—extra cloth, spare boots, a broken charm someone had brought from their old world—were checked and rechecked.
It wasn't fear exactly.
It was awareness.
This time, they were walking toward an H-rank monster.
The city gates closed behind them with a dull echo, and the road north stretched out between low hills and scattered trees. The air grew cooler as the day passed, carrying the scent of soil and leaves rather than stone and smoke.
They walked until the sun dipped low, then stopped near a clearing bordered by tall grass and uneven rocks.
"Camp here," Haruto said. "No reason to push in the dark."
No one argued.
The fire crackled softly as night settled in.
Takumi worked at setting up the tents with practiced efficiency. Akira gathered wood. Hana and Emi prepared a simple meal from dried meat and grains. The rhythm of shared work calmed nerves better than words ever could.
Ilyrien sat slightly apart, her tail curled neatly around her legs, the faint sheen of mana-oil glimmering along the oil gland at its base. Her four eyes reflected the firelight—two watching the flames, two scanning the dark beyond the camp.
"So," Souta said eventually, breaking the quiet, "does every mission feel like this?"
"Like what?" Mio asked.
"Like we're… being watched. Not by the monster. By the world."
Ilyrien tilted her head. "The world always watches. You simply notice now."
Shun snorted softly. "That's not comforting."
Yui stirred the pot slowly. "I've been thinking about the kingdom."
Several heads turned.
"The people cheer us. Feed us. Call us heroes," she continued. "But the nobles look at us like… assets. And the guild treats survival as a statistical anomaly."
Naoki nodded. "We're weapons. Valuable ones, but still weapons."
"I don't think it's that simple," Hana said. "They're scared too."
"Of demons," Kenta replied. "Not of us dying."
Silence fell again.
The fire popped.
Ilyrien spoke quietly. "In the marsh, leaders hunt last. If they eat first, the clan starves later."
Mio frowned. "And here?"
"Here," Ilyrien said, "leaders eat first and call it protection."
That landed heavier than anyone expected.
Takumi poked the fire with a stick. "Do you resent us? For working with them?"
Ilyrien considered the question carefully. "No. You are not choosing the rules. You are surviving them."
Haruto exhaled slowly. "That's not an excuse forever."
"No," Ilyrien agreed. "But it is a beginning."
Sleep came in fragments.
Dreams of charging hooves and breaking ground stirred more than one of them awake. When dawn arrived, pale and misty, no one complained.
They packed quickly and moved out.
The foothills rose ahead, trees growing denser, roots twisting through stone. The forest felt older than the road behind them—quieter, heavier.
Ilyrien stopped suddenly, raising one hand.
"Tracks," she whispered.
Deep gouges in the soil. Broken saplings. Bark scraped raw.
"Big," Akira muttered.
"Stonehide Boar," Ilyrien confirmed. "Recently active."
They spread out, just as planned.
Haruto and Kenta took the front. Takumi and Shun guarded the flanks. Akira and Emi positioned themselves at range. Yui and Mio stayed near Ilyrien.
The forest trembled.
A roar—low, furious, and vibrating through bone—burst from the trees.
Then it came.
The boar was massive, its hide layered like stone plates, tusks curved and cracked with old blood. Its eyes burned with territorial rage as it charged, uprooting earth with every step.
"Now!" Haruto shouted.
Spells flared.
Wind blades tore at its sides. Lightning cracked against its hide—barely breaking through. Arrows shattered on impact. The boar slammed into Kenta, sending him flying into a tree with a sickening thud.
Takumi rushed in, mace striking the joint behind its leg. The boar screamed and retaliated, tusk tearing across his armor.
Pain exploded everywhere.
Shun was knocked aside, ribs screaming. Emi's spell backfired, burning her hands. Haruto managed to drive his sword deep into the creature's neck—but not deep enough.
The boar thrashed wildly before collapsing at last, the ground shaking as it fell.
For a moment, there was only heavy breathing.
Then the pain arrived.
Blood stained the forest floor.
Kenta couldn't stand. Takumi's arm hung uselessly. Shun's breathing was shallow and uneven. Haruto dropped to one knee, vision swimming.
Ilyrien moved.
She knelt beside Kenta first, placing both hands over the worst of giving wounds. Pale light flowed—not bright, not dramatic, but steady and warm. The torn flesh knit slowly, deliberately, as if the body itself remembered how it should be.
One by one, she worked.
The healing was not instant. Bones realigned with dull cracks. Muscle regrew inch by inch. Pain dulled, then faded into exhaustion.
By the time she finished, Ilyrien was trembling slightly, her scales dimmer than before.
"Rest," she said. "Healing takes more from the healer than the wounded."
They obeyed.
No one spoke for a long time.
Finally, Haruto looked at the dead boar, then at his bloodied hands.
"We won," he said quietly.
"Yes," Ilyrien replied.
"But…" Hana whispered, "…if this is H-rank…"
No one finished the thought.
The forest answered only with wind through leaves.
And somewhere deeper within it, something older listened.