"Hey Arin, have the creatures decreased since I went away?" screamed Bertho as he looked up into the tree. He knew Arin was seated somewhere above him, hidden among the branches. The mobile response unit had been left behind in the middle of the forest for emergencies, making this their temporary base of operations. It was not comfortable, but it was effective.
"Yes," said Arin from above. "After you left, I saw another three single ones, and the next wave should arrive in about three minutes, so be prepared." As he spoke, he looked toward the position of the sun to judge the time. It was one of those little skills people relied on without realizing how important it actually was.
Telling the time had become surprisingly valuable recently. Luckily, the Sonnebergs still taught their children how to estimate it from the sun's position. Unfortunately, that had become more difficult over the last few months. The sun no longer seemed to behave exactly the same way it once had.
"Good," said Rik with a defeated sigh. "Let's split up and encircle the hill as quickly as possible. We don't know their movement patterns yet, and if Arin is right, they may emerge from any side of the portal." Once again, he had somehow been assigned one of the boring jobs.
Not only was it boring, but it was also tedious.
The ten members of the response unit quickly dispersed into the forest. Within ten seconds they were completely gone from sight. To an outside observer it would have looked as though they had vanished into thin air. The forest swallowed them effortlessly.
"They're getting quite good," said Arin with an intrigued expression. "Your training worked."
"Yes, it did," said Rik proudly. "It's nice seeing my nephews and nieces in shape again." He had personally spent years helping many of the returning family members recover skills they had allowed to rust.
Most of the people in the response unit were in situations similar to Dennis. They had left the forest years ago because their partners could not tolerate the clan's lifestyle. Training conditions were brutal, especially for adults. Broken bones, torn muscles, and recovery periods measured in years were not uncommon.
On top of that, there were not many job opportunities near the forest. Many people naturally chose to leave and build lives elsewhere. The clan never resisted those decisions because they understood that not everyone shared their worldview. What felt normal to a Sonneberg often looked insane to outsiders.
Usually, around half the children left after marriage or shortly before. After that they faced an important choice. Their children either entered the clan through the Trial Path at four years old, or they lost recognition as family members. It was a harsh rule, but one the clan considered necessary.
If the children were not inducted, they no longer qualified for any benefits associated with clan membership. As a result, many parents quietly arranged for their children to undergo training anyway. Dennis had been one of many who went behind their partner's back to ensure the next generation retained the option.
The process was actually fairly simple.
The children trained for four years until they were 4 years old, entered the Trial Path, and became recognized members of the clan. Afterward, they were not required to actively participate in clan affairs. They merely retained the right to return if they wished later in life.
The parents themselves could also return.
However, if the children had never been inducted, that option disappeared. The clan drew a hard line there. It was one of the few traditions they absolutely refused to compromise on.
The teaching had originally been established to protect both sides. It protected the clan from slowly disappearing and protected those who left from becoming trapped between two worlds. While the rule created plenty of family arguments over the centuries, it had survived for a reason.
Now that the clan had regained some measure of power, many former members had begun returning. Most were people who still had living elders within the clan. Others simply remembered enough of their childhood to feel nostalgic. Regardless of the reason, they all faced the same process.
The first year consisted almost entirely of training.
Parents trained alongside their children. Old habits were relearned. Muscles were rebuilt. Skills that had faded over decades slowly returned. Then came the Trial, followed by even more training.
Only after all of that did the clan consider someone caught up again.
"How did Aunt Jill do exactly?" asked Bertho curiously. He remembered her performing terribly during the family reunion. Compared to everyone else, she had looked completely out of place.
The moment he asked, Rik visibly deflated.
"Well," he said carefully, "let's just say she has had a rough two and a half years."
He shuddered slightly.
Everyone knew who Jill's mother was.
Lilly Sonneberg.
Nobody wanted to imagine what catching up under Lilly's supervision looked like.
"Quiet," said Arin suddenly.
The change in his tone immediately put everyone on alert.
He could feel the buildup beginning again.
Without hesitation, he grabbed four arrows into his draw hand. Bertho and Rik did the same. Across the hill, twelve pairs of eyes locked onto the portal.
The opening looked like a doorway.
And yet it didn't.
Something about it felt fundamentally wrong.
Then, without warning, movement erupted from within.
Four dogs burst from the portal and immediately sprinted in different directions. They were quickly followed by four crows and four slimes, or at least creatures that vaguely resembled those things. Every single one carried the same corrupted wrongness that made the skin crawl.
Luckily, Arin and Bertho were already accustomed to the creatures.
The moment they appeared, arrows flew.
Their immediate reaction shocked the others out of their stunned state. A heartbeat later, the rest of the response unit joined in. Bowstrings snapped across the hill as a storm of arrows filled the air.
The corrupted creatures never had a chance.
Within ten seconds, every single one of them was dead.
The final creature did not even make it halfway down the hill before an arrow punched through it. Several bodies tumbled awkwardly across the dirt. One dog lay dead with its tongue hanging absurdly far from its mouth, as though still trying to continue forward despite being dead.
"Right," said Bertho. "Light the green flare."
The theory had been confirmed.
The number of creatures increased alongside the number of nearby humans. More importantly, the clan now knew exactly what they were dealing with. They could have handled the portal either way, but knowledge dramatically reduced risk.
Going in blind cost lives.
Going in prepared saved them.
"Right," said Rik.
Even now, he was still trying to process what he had experienced. The instinctive hatred those creatures inspired was unlike anything he had ever encountered before. It felt less like fear and more like a certainty that they did not belong in the world.
He quickly ignited the green flare.
Technically, it was little more than a modified firework. The reason they used it was simple. It was loud, visible, and still functioned near the mana vein.
Unlike phones.
Modern electronics had become increasingly unreliable. The mana constantly attempted to cover the cultural energy trapped inside complicated devices. Fireworks were simple enough to survive so close to a mana vein. Phones were not.
As a result, countless devices had already been lost permanently.
The flare shot skyward.
A second later it exploded.
Dark green smoke spread across the sky like a banner. Even under the bright midday sun it remained clearly visible. Anyone watching for the signal would spot it immediately.
And the Sonnebergs were watching.
Far away at the clan compound, Karl looked up.
The moment he saw the green smoke hanging above the forest, his face fell.