There are two kinds of mutations in the Umbral Wilds known to the Kingdom of Othrelis:
Mutated and Aberrant.
It was a simple distinction and something every seasoned mercenary knows whether they learned it the hard way or heard it secondhand from someone who did.
Mutated creatures are those that consumed a condensed, liquefied form of zaen that their bodies could not fully accept.
They either rejected it outright or twisted themselves in response, ending up disfigured, unstable, and often barely clinging to life or sanity.
Aberrants, on the other hand, consumed the same kind of zaen, but instead of breaking down, their bodies adapted to it.
Their bodies changed, but in a way that made them stronger, faster, smarter, more efficient in ways that no natural creature should be.
Now, standing before Seven and the mercenaries, was an aberrant that was just written on the seventh continent's books and rumors.
"...Aberrant?"
Drake asked.
Though it was a question not meant to be answered given that dark zaen burst from its spine. The snow beneath it cracked.
Its eyes glowed violet as it was still in the middle of reconstructing itself.
George, the furthest from it, scoffed as if trying to be brave, but his trembling hands on the saber said what his mouth cannot.
"Aberrant? Ho, am I finally drunk? That can't be. That can be just another—"
But he paused all of a sudden, as the alpha's bones twitched and transformed into what could be called a leopard, if only it did not grow two more eyes.
After about ten more seconds, the black zaen finally stabilized. Its two eyes were open, and the other two above it were still closed.
"Don't let it recover!"
Drake slammed his axe covered with red zaen on the still alpha but the black zaen deflected his axe away.
"S–Shit! Tier two!"
Drake commanded, taking a step back.
George and Mandel broke formation and split to the flanks, zaen flaring around them as they slipped into their designated roles: George's stance was like that of a boxer; Mandel's stance was that of a samurai ready to strike from angles.
At the rear, Eric slammed the butt of his staff into the snow, channeling his zaen into the ground and thick roots burst forth like serpents around the alpha's limbs in an effort to bind it in place.
One man to anchor, two to flank, and one to restrict.
Their movements mirrored countless drills, but none of them had ever used this formation against something like this.
But.
Crackle! Cra—
As if struck by lightning, the bodies of the hyenas on the ground twitched as their forms transformed, becoming almost ape-like.
All of them twitched, growling low, foam dripping from their teeth.
Grrr—
The hyenas rushed in.
George flipped over one, driving his saber straight into the top of its skull mid-air but…
Clang!
It bounced off as if he just hit a thick metal, and the hyena looked up and jumped.
"George!"
Eric called out.
Mandel immediately leapt sidewards with fists coated in dull silver light zaen and brought both hands on the exposed belly of the jumping hyena.
But another hyena rushed towards Mandel, aiming for his ribs.
Clang!
George intercepted it with a backhand slash, only for it to bounce off again and the hyena hit Mandel. He blocked his forearm, zaen-hardening keeping bone intact.
He countered with a jab to its eye, but it was not enough as the hyena bit his forearm.
"Agghh!"
Drake, who just finished the three hyenas, dashed backward, grabbed the hyena by its hind legs, and slammed it spine-first into a boulder before he brought down his axe like a hammer.
"Mandel, hang on. Don't die on me."
"This…"
Mandel stared down at his forearm where blood tainted the bandages that covered it.
"...is just a warm-up."
"That's the spirit."
"You owe us a drink, Captain."
George added, jokingly but with a nervous laughter.
But in the center of the formation, Eric was already faltering. He clenched his staff with both hands, veins bulging along his arms as the alpha slowly began to open its remaining two eyes.
"I—I can't hold it much longer!"
His voice cracked as the roots binding the creature groaned, then began to wither, splitting, unraveling, and crumbling into lifeless husks beneath the alpha's pulsing black zaen.
Drake, George, and Mandel glanced at each other but none of them charged in.
Instead, they smiled and walked towards Eric, who was standing in front of Seven and the porter trembling while kneeling.
Drake stopped first and looked at Seven.
"Brat, run. We'll buy you enough time."
"H-Huh? What—"
Eric retorted, but was cut off when Drake reached down and ripped the pendant from around his neck and tossed it to Seven.
"Hey! Give that back! What the hell—"
Before Eric could finish, Mandel tossed a small roll of bandages at Seven's chest.
"That'll keep you warm, kid."
Then George hesitated, his eyes flicking from Seven to the alpha. He let out a breath, then looked at his saber and handed it over.
"You've got calluses on your palms means you've held a blade before. Use my baby well, will ya?"
"But—"
"Don't worry."
George said, turning his back to Seven as he bent down and picked up a nearby branch.
"This should be enough for that... disgusting thing."
Seven stood frozen.
His hand twitched toward George's saber and also thought to fight the alpha with them but stopped and pushed the thought aside.
After all, just looking at the alpha slowly breaking free from the shackles made of roots, he knew it would not matter.
Not against that thing.
But those three could have escaped if they left Eric behind, yet they still chose to stay instead.
"Brat."
Drake tossed a different necklace this time: one carved like a fang,
"Don't show your face again, hunt stealer."
Seven caught it.
"Sure, old man."
He helped the porter up, who stumbled with a groan, and was too injured mentally to run away.
Step.
"Oi! My booze's in the backpack!"
George called after them with a grin.
Seven heard it yet he did not stop running, but he glanced back once. Just once. Enough to see the flash of red.
Enough to hate himself for leaving.
They were mercenaries. Disposable, he used to think. But no one disposable dies smiling.
'Fudge.'
He thought.
Step. Step.
"Shit... I was serious about the booze..."
George muttered, his tone shifting as he gripped the stick with both hands and flooded it with zaen.
"How many seconds should we buy, Captain?"
Drake did not answer immediately. He just turned, cracking his neck, lifting his axe with a calm manner.
"As many as we—"
Shatter!
The last root snapped, and the alpha stood tall with its four violet eyes glowing like lanterns in the midst of the snow.
Eric collapsed forward, coughing blood onto the snow from the backlash of his spell being destroyed.
But before he could even recover—
Shrrkkk.
Three heads rolled past him, trailing blood. He blinked, wide-eyed, heart pounding in his chest as they settled at his knees.
George.
Mandel.
Drake.
He looked up, and there it was.
The alpha was smiling at him.
It was a slow, unnerving, human-like curl of its lips before it opened its jaws that revealed the same pair of yellow and jagged teeth.
"Shi—"
The alpha bit down and chewed like it had just tasted the most delicious thing in the world.