Rachel wiped the sweat from her forehead, her body still thrumming from the intensity of the battle. The air was thick with the stench of blood and burnt flesh, and the ground beneath them was littered with the remains of both the cultists and the mutated Fellgrins. The fight had been brutal, but they had won. It was time to see what they had earned for their efforts.

"Alright," Rachel called out, sheathing her sword and stepping toward the bodies. "Start searching them. Let's see if these lunatics had anything useful."

The group moved carefully, checking the bodies for weapons, armor, and valuables. The cultists' robes were tattered and bloodstained, but some carried small pouches filled with coins and strange, rune-etched trinkets.

Paul knelt beside one of the fallen cultists and pried a dagger from his belt. "Cheap steel," he muttered, flipping it in his hand. "Would probably snap if you hit something hard enough."

Nathan grunted as he kicked over a corpse, reaching down to rip a small, curved blade from its grasp. "Most of this is garbage." He examined the weapon, then tossed it aside. "But hey, free stuff is free stuff."

It was George who made the first major find. "Hey," he called, lifting a small satchel from the lead cultist's remains. "This one feels… weird."

Rachel walked over and peered at the bag as George turned it over. It looked like an ordinary leather pouch, except for the faint glow along the seams, a soft violet shimmer that pulsed slightly.

"Storage bag," Rachel said. "Oh, please let that be some sort of magic storage."

George's eyebrows raised. "Like… an actual magic bag? The kind that holds more than it looks?"

"Looks like it," Rachel said, pulling the drawstrings apart. The bag stretched open far wider than it should have, revealing an unnatural depth inside. "Yep. This one's got decent capacity." Accessing it through her screen, she could see that it offered 25 slots of space.

As she examined it, Evelyn let out a quiet gasp. "There's another one over here."

The group gathered around as she held up a second satchel, nearly identical to the one George had found, though the runes on this one shimmered a deep blue instead of violet.

"Two storage bags," Rachel murmured. "That's a damn good find."

Charles rubbed his chin. "Who gets them?"

Rachel glanced around. There were only two. The most logical thing would be to give them to whoever would get the most use out of them.

Paul spoke first. "Evelyn should take one," he said. "She's going to be handling potions, bandages, and who knows what else. She needs the space."

There were nods of agreement all around. Evelyn looked slightly taken aback but accepted the pouch, adjusting the strap to sit comfortably at her hip.

Rachel sighed and glanced down at the remaining bag. "I can hold onto this one, then."

"No arguments here," Nathan said. "You're already managing what we carry and leading us. Makes sense."

Rachel tightened the strap across her chest, settling the bag against her side. It was a good find that would make things much easier moving forward.

Once that was settled, she turned to George. "Speaking of good finds, congrats on the new skill."

George, who had been checking his bow, blinked in surprise. "Oh, uh… thanks."

Nathan grinned. "Don't be shy about it, man. That arrow explosion was badass."

George rubbed the back of his neck, clearly pleased but unused to the attention. "I think I channeled my mana into the arrow right before I fired. I wasn't trying to make it explode, but… well, it did."

Paul chuckled. "Accidental or not, that's a hell of a way to figure it out."

Felicity, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up. "Can you do it again?"

George hesitated, then nodded. "I think so. I felt the mana flow when I shot, so I should be able to do it on purpose now."

Rachel nodded approvingly. "Good. That means we have ranged magic support now. That's a huge deal."

Diana, standing off to the side, cleared her throat. "I, uh… also got a skill."

The group turned to her, curiosity piqued.

"Oh?" Rachel asked. "What did you get?"

Diana hesitated, then tightened her grip on her daggers. "It's a movement skill. When I activate it, I can flash between enemies, striking up to three targets before stopping."

The group stared at her.

Nathan let out a low whistle. "Damn."

Rachel crossed her arms. "That's huge for you."

Diana nodded, flexing her fingers. "Yeah. It feels natural, too. Like my body already knows how to use it."

Paul smirked. "I bet you're gonna love testing that one out."

Diana grinned. "You bet your ass I am."

Rachel adjusted the strap of her newly acquired storage bag, eyes scanning the trees as they walked. The air was still thick with the scent of blood, but now that the adrenaline had settled, there was something else creeping into her mind.

She glanced back at the others, noting how some carried themselves lighter than before, while others still seemed weighed down. The fight had been brutal, but not just because of the numbers they faced.

"How does everyone feel about them being human and not monsters?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Nathan didn't hesitate. "I mean, in a way, they were monsters. So it doesn't bother me." His voice was steady, casual, as if the fight hadn't left a mark on him.

Rachel didn't expect anything different from him. He was a warrior, through and through. He had thrived in the fight. But as she turned her gaze toward the group's younger members, her focus settled on George, Felicity, and Diana. They were quieter than the rest. Processing.

George rubbed the back of his neck, his bow still slung over one shoulder. "It's… different than I thought it would be," he admitted. "Killing monsters felt… easier. Like it was just survival. But knowing they were human first? That's harder to ignore."

Felicity nodded beside him. "I keep thinking about how they didn't hesitate. They would have killed us without a second thought. That makes it easier… but it still doesn't sit right."

Rachel exhaled. This was exactly what she had been worried about. She had known this moment would come—the realization that their enemies wouldn't always be creatures. The world they were now in wasn't just about survival against beasts, but against people too.

She slowed her pace slightly, falling into step with them. "I get it. And you're right—it's not a small thing. Even in self-defense, it's still… a lot." She let her words settle before continuing. "If you ever need to talk about it, to anyone, come to me. This kind of thing can weigh on you in ways you don't realize until later."

Felicity looked down, nodding slightly. George swallowed hard, keeping his gaze ahead.

Diana, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "I don't know how I feel yet," she admitted. "I know it should bother me. But in the moment… it didn't." She flexed her fingers, as if still feeling the weight of her daggers. "It was just survival."

Rachel studied her carefully, noting the way her voice lacked hesitation. Diana had adapted to this world just as quickly as Nathan. She hadn't hesitated when she fought; even now, she didn't seem shaken by what they had done.

But not feeling anything could be just as dangerous as feeling too much.

Rachel nodded. "That's fair. Just make sure you do check in with yourself about it. It's easy to get caught up in surviving and forget that we're still us."

Diana nodded once, her face unreadable.

Evelyn's eyes flicked between the gaps in the trees, her pulse quickening as she caught the glint of metal in the fading light. She didn't turn her head or react beyond keeping the movement in her periphery, but the figures were there. Two of them, slipping through the underbrush, keeping pace.

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She kept her voice low, barely more than a breath. "We're being shadowed. It looks like those thugs from the camp."

Rachel didn't react right away. She kept walking at the same pace, forcing herself to stay calm, even though every instinct screamed at her to spin around. "Okay," she said, just as quietly. "They probably saw what we got back there and want it for themselves."

Evelyn inhaled through her nose, exhaling steadily. "Do we make a run for the border of the domain? Or do we turn and fight on our terms?"

Rachel considered their options. "We're too far away to dash for it. We don't want to run into something they've set up, either. The path ahead has that one section where the trees get real thick and close to the trail. If they're going to ambush us, that's the spot." She adjusted her grip on her sword, rolling her shoulders. "When they show themselves, we go hard. No hesitation. We don't give them time to gain the upper hand."

Nathan let out a slow breath, his fingers twitching around the handle of his axe. "I'll taunt them. If it works on humans, anyway." His grin was sharp. "Evelyn, you up for healing me some more?"

Evelyn sighed, her fingers brushing against her storage pouch where she kept her last mana potion. "I'm at eighty percent, but try avoiding some of the attacks this time. That cloth you're wearing doesn't do much for protection."

Nathan just grinned, his eyes locked ahead on the path.

Rachel turned to George and Felicity. Their expressions were tight, pale. She hated asking them to do this, but they had no choice. "I hate to ask this of you so soon, but they will hurt us. And they'll have worse planned for the women." Her voice was steady. "When they show their faces, they should be met with an arrow."

George swallowed hard, but his fingers tightened around his bowstring. Felicity nodded once, her lips pressed into a thin line. They would protect each other.

Paul and Charles moved closer to Nathan's sides, adjusting their gear. The familiarity of their formation started to settle in, and muscle memory took over.

The thickened trees loomed ahead. The air felt heavier, as if the woods themselves were waiting.

Rachel exhaled. Let them come.

*****

Larry crouched low behind the thick trunk of an ancient tree, his grip tightening around the worn hilt of his sword. Twelve of them, all ready, all waiting. They had picked the perfect spot—a narrow choke point in the path where the trees closed in tight, leaving no room to run, no easy escape. Rachel's group was walking straight into their trap, tired, battered, and blissfully unaware.

He could hear the shallow breaths of his men around him, the barely restrained excitement as they watched their prey approach. Some of them had been just like him—dropped into this world, scared and weak at first. But they had learned. Adapted. And now, they were done playing the game by anyone else's rules.

Larry was in charge here.

He smirked as Rachel's team entered the kill zone. They had loot, skills, gear. More than they deserved. He was going to take it all.

With a deliberate step, he moved out from behind the tree, his chest swelling as he prepared to speak—

And then his world exploded in pain.

Something slammed into his shoulder, twisting him violently as his back smashed against the rough bark. A searing burn shot through his arm, and before he could even process what happened, his legs buckled, sending him to one knee.

He didn't hear the bowstring snap.

He didn't see the arrow coming.

He only felt the deep, agonizing throb as he stared at the shaft buried just below his collarbone.

They shot him.

Before he could even get a word out.

His vision swam, rage boiling beneath the pain.

"Get them!" he roared, but his voice was drowned out by the sudden war cry that tore through the air.

A deep, guttural roar, shaking the very ground beneath them.

Larry's head snapped up just in time to see Nathan standing like a damned mountain in the center of the road. His axe was raised, his entire body coiled like a beast ready to charge.

Then it happened.

A pulse of red energy surged outward from him, slamming into Larry and his men like an invisible wave. It didn't knock them over, didn't physically force them back, but something inside Larry shifted.

His focus snapped to Nathan, and suddenly, nothing else mattered.

Not Rachel.

Not their gear.

Not the plan.

Only him.

Larry's heart hammered in his chest as his legs moved before he could even think. Around him, his men did the same, their eyes wild, their movements uncoordinated as they turned their full attention to Nathan.

"What the—" Larry tried to fight it, tried to focus, but his rage burned hotter than his pain, and the only thing he could think about was putting that massive bastard into the dirt.

Nathan took a slow step backward, baiting them, leading them further away, positioning himself just how he wanted.

Larry barely noticed Rachel moving.

Barely registered the shift in formation behind him.

*****

Rachel watched Nathan carefully as he moved, dragging the thugs further down the path. It was risky—if they got overwhelmed, Nathan would be isolated with twelve enemies between him and the rest of them. But if they acted fast, this could work.

She clenched her jaw, taking a single sharp breath.

Nathan had all of them focused on him.

Their backs were completely exposed.

It was a gift if they could act on it quickly enough.

Rachel didn't hesitate.

She gripped her sword tighter and lunged forward, her voice tearing from her throat in a raw battle cry.

The others followed in perfect unison, their bodies moving as one as they fell upon the backs of the distracted thugs.

Rachel's blade drove through the first man's spine, severing it cleanly as he collapsed without a sound. Beside her, Diana moved like a shadow, her knives flashing as she darted between two of them, blades sinking deep into their kidneys before they even realized what had happened.

Paul's sabre sliced through another's throat, a quick, clean kill, while Charles used the full force of his shield to slam another thug into a tree, knocking them unconscious before they could react.

It was vicious, efficient, brutal.

Four were dead before they even understood what was happening.

Two more stumbled back, weapons slipping from their grasp as George and Felicity sent arrows straight through their arms, disarming them completely.

Then, like a switch being flipped, the taunt broke.

Rachel saw it happen in real time—the moment awareness snapped back into their eyes.

Confusion, then realization, then panic.

One of them staggered away, gasping, his hand flying to the dagger buried in his side.

Another turned, mouth opening in shock, only for Paul to drive his knee into his gut and throw him to the ground.

Rachel exhaled sharply, her stance shifting as she readied for the real fight.

They had seconds before the rest of them got their bearings.

And she wasn't about to let them.

As Rachel and her friends closed in, the tension in the air thickened. The thugs, once so sure of themselves, now hesitated. A few, realizing the fight was lost, threw their weapons down and backed away, their hands raised in surrender.

Cowards.

Larry, bleeding and livid, spat curses as they retreated, his face contorted with rage.

Rachel stared him down, her grip firm on her sword, her body still coiled from the fight. "So, Larry," she said, voice laced with mockery. "Turned to ambushing people when bullying wouldn't work? You really are a piece of shit, man."

Larry sneered, his shoulder wound still oozing. "You just wait and see. We'll kill all of you and take what's owed to us!"

Rachel let out a short, humorless laugh, tilting her head slightly as she gestured to the carnage around them. "Look around, you idiot. Four dead. Several more severely wounded. What exactly do you think you're going to do here?" She took a slow step forward, her expression unyielding. "Do you really want to keep this going to its inevitable conclusion? Or are you finally gonna grow a brain and walk away?"

Larry and the remaining thugs had already been edging back toward the trees, their eyes darting between each other. The ones who had thrown down their weapons looked desperate to flee. It was clear—their confidence had shattered.

Larry scowled, his bravado slipping with every step he took toward the tree line. "You mouthy bitch. Just you wait and see. This isn't over."

Rachel rolled her eyes, her tone more casual than she really felt. "Sure thing, macho man. See you around."

With that, the remaining thugs turned and bolted, disappearing into the dense forest.

The moment they were gone, Paul stepped up beside Rachel, his voice low but serious. "I hate this. But was it wise to let them go?"

Rachel exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Wise? Probably not. But cold-blooded murder doesn't sit right with me, regardless of the circumstances."

Paul nodded slowly, though the unease didn't fully leave his face.

The group regrouped and pushed forward, the fatigue from battle settling into their limbs as they made their way back toward Virial's domain.

When they arrived, a small crowd had gathered, waiting at the entrance. Virial stood at the front, her sharp gaze scanning them as they approached.

Rachel tightened her grip on her sword, bracing herself.

This was going to be interesting.

*****

Virial stood at the entrance to the glade, arms crossed, her gaze sharp. "Care to explain what that noise was about?" she asked, her voice carrying a weight that made even the onlookers tense. "It didn't sound like fighting Fellgrins."

Rachel straightened, not liking the accusation in her tone. "Larry and his group of thugs ambushed us on our way back. We defended ourselves."

Virial's eyes swept over the group, taking in the blood, the torn clothing, the exhaustion still lining their faces. "Did you give them a reason to attack you?"

Rachel scoffed. "Does he seem like the type that needs a reason?"

Virial's expression remained unreadable. "That is not an answer to my question."

Rachel exhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay calm. "No. Evelyn noticed we were being shadowed. They ambushed us, and we fought back. We killed four, severely wounded several others, and the rest ran off, swearing they'd finish the job later."

Virial studied them a moment longer. "And you didn't pursue them to stop them?"

Rachel's hands clenched at her sides. "No. It's not in our nature to murder people in cold blood after they surrendered."

Virial tilted her head slightly, considering that. "Pity. People like that should be put down." She shifted her stance. "Decide how you want to handle this as a group, and we can continue."

Rachel frowned. "What do you mean? As a group? Our group, or everyone here?"

Virial gestured broadly to the crowd gathering behind her. "Everyone here is your group in a way. Growing strong under the System isn't just about individual power. Collective power matters just as much."

Rachel turned to face the gathered survivors, scanning their faces. "What do you think should happen?" she asked, projecting her voice. "I assume we're talking banishment since they've proven themselves untrustworthy. They attacked us unprovoked, and they would have killed us for our gear."

An older man with a scruffy beard stepped forward and spat on the ground. "I say hang the bastards."

Rachel didn't react immediately, letting the weight of his words settle before she responded. "That's an option," she admitted, "but I'd suggest banishment. Sending them out into a world we know isn't safe is just as much a death sentence."

A tall, slender woman stepped up next. "Do they not get to defend their actions?"

Rachel stared at her for a long moment. "You can go out there and ask them," she said dryly. "I'm sure they'd love your company." She smirked. "You seem like their type—breathing, that is."

The woman paled, her mouth opening and closing before she stepped back into the crowd, unwilling to argue further.

Rachel turned back to the rest. "Alright. Raise your hand if you vote for banishment."

Hands shot up—almost all of them. Rachel counted quickly. Sixty-eight out of seventy-two.

Virial stepped forward again. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled up her System interface—though no one else could see it—and made the adjustments. "Those left in Larry's group are now banished from this glade," she announced. "They will not be able to enter. However, I cannot aid you outside of this domain. That is forbidden." She looked over the group one last time. "So be on your guard when you leave."

Rachel nodded, relieved that at least this problem was handled. "Alright," she said, glancing at her team. "Let's get some food and rest."

Before they could take a step, Virial lifted a hand. "Before you go…" she said, her voice carrying across the gathering. "Everyone, congratulate this team on being the first to complete their first quest and level up!"

A small round of applause and murmurs followed as people stepped forward, eager to hear more details about what had happened.

Rachel sighed inwardly.

It was going to be a long night.

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