The Wilds were quiet.
Not empty.
Just… waiting.
Bran walked through the mist at an even pace, boots brushing lightly over fractured stone. His breathing had settled, his body steady, but his awareness stretched wide.
Then—
"…There."
Bran stopped.
Three figures stepped out ahead.
No caution.
No hesitation.
At the center stood one who didn't belong in the Wilds—and knew it.
Clean. Composed. Untouched.
The kind of person who had never needed to earn space to stand in it.
His gaze settled on Bran.
Then—
He smiled.
"…So you're the one."
A short laugh followed.
"I expected something more… impressive."
Bran didn't answer.
The boy took a step forward, rolling his wrist slightly.
"You've been climbing pretty fast," he continued. "Thought I'd see what all that noise was about."
A pause.
"…Don't disappoint me."
Water moved.
Not gathered.
Not formed.
Summoned.
It didn't coil loosely like the others Bran had seen.
It condensed.
Then twisted.
A long, narrow shape formed along the boy's arm—fluid but structured, its head sharpening into something that resembled a serpent.
It opened its jaws.
And lunged.
Bran moved.
Just barely.
The serpent slammed into the ground beside him—
But didn't break.
It curved.
Turned mid-motion—
And came again.
Bran's eyes sharpened.
Controlled.
Not just force.
The second strike came faster.
He stepped inside it.
"Ventus Secare."
The blade cut across its body—
The water split—
Then reformed instantly.
Not broken.
Redirected.
"…You see it?" the boy said lightly.
The serpent coiled again, rising higher this time, larger, denser.
"Hydra Serpent."
It split.
Two heads now.
Both moving.
Both tracking.
Bran shifted—
One grazed past him—
The other snapped toward his flank—
He twisted—
Late.
It clipped him.
Harder than before.
He slid half a step before catching himself.
Behind the boy—
his friends laughed.
"Careful, you might actually hit him too hard."
"Wouldn't want to end it too fast."
The boy didn't look back.
"…Relax," he said calmly. "I'm not trying yet."
The serpents surged again.
Faster.
Bran didn't retreat.
He watched.
The pattern.
The delay.
The control point—
There.
He moved.
"Ignis Fracta."
Flame burst forward—
The serpents split around it, avoiding instead of colliding.
Expected.
Bran stepped through the opening they created themselves.
"Ventus Gradus."
A short burst closed the gap.
Too close.
The boy's eyes flickered—
Not fear.
Adjustment.
Water snapped back instantly, the serpents collapsing inward—
Forming a shield—
Too late.
"Ventus Secare."
The blade cut across the forming structure—
Not fully through—
But enough.
The shape broke.
The boy stepped back once.
For the first time—
His stance shifted.
"…Huh."
Not impressed.
Interested.
"Again."
The water surged harder this time.
Not two.
Three.
Larger.
Sharper.
They moved together.
Bran moved with them.
Not away.
Between.
He let the first pass—
Cut under the second—
Turned with the third—
"Ventus Secare."
The blade struck the control line.
This time—
The serpent collapsed fully.
The others faltered.
For a fraction of a second—
Control broke.
That was enough.
Bran stepped in.
No hesitation.
"Ventus Tormentum."
The air folded—
Then detonated.
The blast hit clean.
The boy was thrown back—
Not far—
But enough.
His footing broke.
His structure gone.
Silence.
His friends didn't laugh this time.
"…Wait."
"What—?"
The boy pushed himself up—
Slower.
His eyes locked onto Bran.
Not amused anymore.
"…You're annoying."
Bran didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
Because now—
The others moved.
Fast.
"Get him!"
No control.
No technique.
Just reaction.
Bran stepped back.
Measured.
Two fresh opponents.
One still dangerous.
Not worth it.
He turned—
And moved.
Behind him—
"He's running!"
"After him!"
The boy's voice cut through them—
sharp now.
"Don't let him get away!"
No arrogance left in that line.
Just anger.
And something worse.
Recognition.
Bran didn't look back.
Didn't need to.
Because now—
He wasn't just another target.
He was the one that got away.