The silence stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring. Twenty hunters glared across the gap, weapons glittering under the Expanse's shifting light. The leader's face was stone, but his eyes moved with cold calculation.
Zeke rolled his neck left, then right, the crack carrying in the stillness. "Alright. You want the herb? Come and mug us for it. Let's see if you're better at it than we are."
That was the only signal the trio needed.
Jude was already moving. He shot straight for the leader—the man with the granite face and the greatsword—his flaming blade materializing mid-stride, trailing a ribbon of embers through the thin air.
The leader's eyes narrowed. He didn't draw his weapon. He met Jude's charge bare-handed, arms suddenly sheathed in crackling grey stone. Stonefist Aura—a defensive skill that turned his limbs into living battering rams.
CLANG.
