Chapter 97 — Beyond the Boundary
They crossed the boundary properly on the morning of their fourth day beyond Millbrook, and Arlen felt the same overwhelming scale settle over him that he remembered from his very first glimpse of this terrain — the mineral-touched air, the sheer, humbling size of everything around him, the deep, patient quality of a forest that had grown undisturbed for centuries beyond count.
"You’ve been here before," Doran observed, noting something in Arlen’s expression as the party paused at the boundary’s edge.
"Years ago," Arlen said. "Support role, on an expedition surveying the edge. Never went further than this exact spot."
"And now?"
"Now I finally get to see what’s actually past it."
Garrick walked near the column’s front alongside Ilyana, his presence throughout the crossing carrying the same quiet, watchful authority he’d shown since Millbrook, and Arlen found himself grateful the Guild Master had chosen to accompany the expedition this deep rather than turning back once the first site’s purification concluded.
"You’re staying with us the whole way," Arlen said, falling into step near him during a brief rest.
"I am," Garrick said simply. "This crisis began under my authority, in my region. I don’t intend to hand responsibility for it entirely to capital hands, however capable Ilyana’s team clearly is."
They pushed roughly two miles past the boundary line before the first attack came.
It emerged without warning from a dense thicket bordering the trail — a full pack, easily a dozen strong, vaguely wolf-shaped but wrong in the same unmistakable way Arlen remembered from Millbrook’s manifestations, their forms blurring faintly at the edges, movements carrying a jerking, unnatural quality that made his stomach turn simply watching them close the distance.
"Contact!" Ilyana called, already moving. "Formation!"
The party responded with practiced speed, Iron Vanguard anchoring the center while the capital team spread to cover the flanks, and Arlen found himself, drawing his blade alongside Halvard, genuinely grateful for the discipline this expedition had drilled into every engagement so far. The sheer number of them meant no single fighter could hold ground alone — the whole formation had to move as one, covering gaps almost before they opened.
The fight took considerably longer than Millbrook’s opening skirmish, the dozen creatures pressing from multiple angles at once, and Arlen noted, wiping dark residue from his blade once the last of them finally fell, that each one had fought with a sharper, more deliberate aggression than the manifestations at the original site.
"Faster than what we faced before," Selene observed, examining one of the fallen creature’s remains with careful, professional attention. "And more coordinated. They worked as a pack, rather than simply attacking independently."
"Worth noting," Garrick said, his expression grim. "If the corruption’s producing smarter guardians the deeper it’s settled, we should expect this pattern to continue."
It did.
They encountered a second, considerably larger swarm before midday — closer to two dozen this time, pouring from multiple directions at once, splitting the party’s attention across the whole formation in a way that forced genuine, sustained effort rather than the clean, controlled engagement of their first contact. Arlen found himself calling on Earthen Grip more than once, sensing coordinated movement through the ground beneath his feet in time to warn Halvard of a flanking attempt that would otherwise have caught him unprepared.
"Good catch," Halvard said, breathing hard once the second engagement finally concluded. "Another few seconds, and that would have been considerably worse."
By late afternoon, the party had fought off three separate swarms, the last numbering well past thirty, each wave testing their formation and stamina more thoroughly than the last, and more than once threatening to break through entirely despite their numbers. Arlen understood, watching even the capital adventurers’ usually unshakeable composure show real signs of strain, that Ilyana’s earlier warning had been entirely justified.
"This isn’t Millbrook," he said, during a brief rest while Aria worked to properly treat a shallow gash along Kaelis’s arm.
"No," Garrick agreed, his weathered face carrying a weight Arlen hadn’t seen from him even during the darkest days following the original crisis. "Millbrook’s residue had settled for over a year with minimal disturbance. Whatever’s happening here has been actively, aggressively spreading. I suspect we’re looking at something considerably more advanced in its development."
"How advanced?"
"I don’t know yet. I intend to find out carefully, rather than guess prematurely." Garrick studied the deepening forest ahead of them. "You’ve done well today, Arlen. Genuinely well. I want you to understand that, regardless of what tomorrow brings."
Arlen felt the weight of that acknowledgment settle into him with more significance than the words alone conveyed, coming from a man whose careful, measured praise he’d learned to value precisely because it never came easily.
They made camp that evening earlier than planned, the accumulated toll of three separate engagements demanding proper rest before pushing further, and Arlen found himself, settling in for the night alongside the rest of the exhausted party, turning over the day’s events with the same careful, methodical attention he gave everything significant now.
He caught, during a quiet moment, Osric and Kess discussing something in low, technical tones he only partially followed — references to "Explorer-rank output" and "Veteran thresholds" that meant little to him beyond the vague understanding that some structured system of advancement existed beyond simple guild rank, one he’d never properly had explained to him during his year in the Ashen Frontier.
"You’re still just Awakened," Kess observed, catching him listening, her tone carrying no judgment, simply idle observation. "No offense meant. Just noting it."
"None taken," Arlen said, curious despite the faint sting of the comparison. "I don’t actually know what comes after. Nobody’s ever properly explained the full progression to me."
"Frontier guilds don’t always bother," Kess said, with a shrug that carried genuine sympathy rather than condescension. "Capital branch has proper instruction for it. You’ll learn eventually, I’d imagine, wherever your path eventually carries you."
Arlen filed the exchange away alongside everything else he’d learned this day, understanding, with quiet clarity, exactly how much more remained for him to properly discover about the true shape of strength in this world.
He wrote briefly in his journal before sleep finally claimed him, the entry short but weighted with the day’s accumulated significance.
Three swarms today, each one larger and more coordinated than the last — a dozen, then two dozen, then well past thirty. This crisis is considerably more advanced than Millbrook ever was. Garrick’s staying with us the entire way, which I find both reassuring and, given how seriously he’s treating today’s fighting, genuinely sobering.
I overheard something today about proper ranks beyond simple Awakening — terms I don’t understand yet, a whole structure of advancement nobody’s ever properly taught me. Strange, realizing how much I still don’t know, even after everything this past year has given me.
Tomorrow, we push further. I don’t know what waits. I only know today was harder than I expected, and tomorrow will likely be harder still.
He closed the journal, the camp settling into a tense, watchful quiet around him, and found sleep slower to arrive than usual, his mind turning over every careful preparation for whatever the deep forest’s true, unresolved heart might still have waiting for them.