Violet and amber morning light filtered through the sky, casting long shadows across the battlefield where heaps of goblin corpses remained. Jonah stood at the edge of their defensive perimeter, watching his people dismantle the fortifications they'd built the previous evening.

  The work proceeded with systematic efficiency. Fighters scattered stone foundations and disassembled wooden barriers, a necessary task, even if some grumbled about destroying what they had labored to create.

  "Why bother? We're leaving anyway. Let it rot." Garrett approached, a group of his faction members carrying salvaged timber.

  Jonah didn't look away from the demolition. "Because abandoned fortifications could become entrenched monster dens. Something finds this defensible position, sets up residence, and grows stronger behind walls we built. The next time we face them, they'll have somewhere to retreat, lick their wounds, and recover."

  Garrett's face shifted as he processed the implications. "That's... actually a good point."

  "Every decision has consequences that extend beyond the immediate moment. We can't afford to leave traps for our future selves."

  The big man nodded slowly, then gestured for his people to continue with renewed purpose.

  Sarah materialized at Jonah's elbow, her silent movement still unsettling him. "Scout rotation is ready. Same configuration as yesterday?"

  "No." Jonah had been considering this since the battle. "Increase party size to five each instead of three. The feline beast that killed Thomas is still out there. Larger groups make harder targets."

  "That means fewer scout parties total."

  Jonah turned to face her. "Quality over quantity. I'd rather have complete information from three directions than incomplete reports from five. And tell them the same rules apply: no engagement unless absolutely necessary. If they spot something dangerous, they fall back."

  Sarah nodded and vanished into the morning shadows.

  Within two hours, the camp was broken down. Wagons loaded, wounded secured, fighters falling into the march formation that had become second nature over the past days. Eight hundred people moving as a single organism, their fear tempered by experience.

  Seven hundred and ninety… Not eight hundred anymore.

  Jonah took his position at the head of the column, his core team arranged around him in a loose formation. To their left, the mountains rose, rocky slopes providing protection on one flank. To their right, the corrupted forest stretched, twisted trees and strange undergrowth concealing unseen threats.

  The march resumed without preamble.

  The first day passed without incident.

  Jonah remained wary, his tactical assessment feeding him constant information about potential ambush points and suspicious terrain. Every cluster of rocks could hide enemies. Every dense patch of undergrowth could conceal predators. The goblin army they'd routed might have regrouped, might be circling ahead to cut them off.

  Yet, nothing materialized out of the shadows and trees.

  The column advanced through the mountain foothills, following paths Jonah remembered from his previous life. The terrain aligned closely with his expectations; minor deviations, such as a ridge instead of a valley or a stream slightly east of its expected location, didn't pose a problem. These small differences didn't affect the overall route.

  They made excellent time, exceeding Jonah's initial estimations.

  The fighters grew stronger with each day of the journey, their System-enhanced bodies adapting to the demands of the continuous march. Even the non-combatants, who had struggled on the first day, now kept pace without complaint.

  Progress is becoming more visible with each day.

  They were coalescing into a cohesive army.

  That evening, they established camp in a natural bowl formation, the rocky walls providing protection on three sides. The watch rotation commenced without hesitation, the fighters assuming their positions without needing detailed instructions.

  Jonah sat near the command fire, reviewing the next day's route with Martinez. The Spear Sergeant had proven invaluable in managing the column's logistics, his military background translating seamlessly into the organizational demands of moving eight hundred people through hostile territory.

  "Tomorrow we push toward the river?" Martinez asked.

  "Yes. We should reach it by late afternoon if we maintain today's pace."

  "And the crossing?"

  Jonah hesitated. "There are specific points where the river narrows, places where the current isn't strong enough to sweep people away. We'll need to locate the right one."

  "You don't know exactly where?"

  "I know the general area. It seems the System's transformation alters details slightly between iterations. The crossing I remember might not be in the exact same place."

  Martinez absorbed the information without visible reaction. "So we scout when we arrive and find the best option."

  Jonah nodded.

  The Spear Sergeant nodded in return and resumed his duties, leaving Jonah alone with his thoughts.

  The second day unfolded similarly.

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  The column moved through increasingly rugged terrain. The mountains gave way to a dense forest that pressed close on both sides. The corrupted trees grew thicker here, their twisted branches interlocking overhead to create a canopy that filtered the strange sky into scattered patches of light.

  Jonah's scouts reported regularly.

  Nothing significant had occurred or been found. Animal trails showed recent activity. Patches of disturbed earth might indicate buried dens. The occasional flash of movement in the distance vanished before it could be identified. It was all expected, and nothing was worrying for now.

  No goblins escaped this time.

  There were no organized threats or signs of the army they'd routed two nights ago.

  The question of their vanishing nagged at him throughout the march. Four thousand goblins simply disappeared. Even routed forces eventually regrouped, especially when tracking prey that moved predictably. The column's direction was obvious, and their destination, the settlement stone, was the logical assumption for anyone tracking them.

  Yet nothing appeared.

  Perhaps the routing had been complete, or perhaps they had scattered so thoroughly that reorganization proved impossible. Maybe their leadership had been eliminated, leaving no one to coordinate a follow-up attack, or maybe that leadership had simply decided there were easier targets.

  Jonah had learned to trust his instincts over decades of combat, and those instincts screamed that something was wrong. The absence of threat, to him, meant the threat was hiding, not lacking.

  He kept the scouts active and the column alert, but the day ended without contact.

  The third day brought action.

  The column had stopped for a brief rest, fighters taking the opportunity to relieve themselves in designated areas away from the main formation. Protocol demanded groups of three, minimum; no one traveled alone, not even for basic biological necessities.

  One group moved a bit too far.

  Jonah didn't see it happen, but he heard the results: a startled shout, followed by the distinctive shriek of something large and predatory, then screaming—human screaming, the kind that meant pain rather than fear.

  "Contact! Eastern perimeter!"

  Fighters surged toward the sound, weapons drawn. Jonah pushed through the crowd, his Enhanced Reflexes letting him navigate the chaos without slowing.

  He found the scene in a small clearing thirty meters from the column's edge.

  The feline beast from before crouched over a prone man, its massive body pinning him to the corrupted earth. The creature's jaws were closed around his arm, holding but not biting, those yellow eyes scanning the approaching humans with predatory calculation.

  The other two members of the party surrounded it, prodding the creature.

  Jonah noticed the intelligence in its eyes.

  Is the thing testing us?

  "Hold positions!" Jonah's command froze the fighters rushing forward. "Don't crowd it. Give the ranged units clear shots."

  Justin appeared from somewhere in the crowd, lightning already crackling around his fingers. "Finally, something to do. Holy shit, I've been so bored."

  "Don't try kill it; drive it off. We need the man alive."

  The Lightning Titan's grin faltered. "Fine."

  Garrett pushed through to stand beside Justin, his massive axe held ready. "Together?"

  "You're kidding."

  "I'm offering to help."

  Justin's expression shifted to something approaching respect. "Alright. You distract; I'll make it regret being born."

  The two men moved with coordination born from the event war's determined teaching. Garrett charged forward with a bellowing war cry, drawing the beast's attention away from its prey. The creature's head snapped up, jaws releasing the man's arm as it assessed this new threat.

  Justin's lightning struck.

  The bolt caught the beast's flank, electricity arcing across scaled patches and burning fur. The creature screamed and whirled toward the attack, abandoning the wounded man entirely.

  The other two men continued to poke and prod at it to break its attention.

  Garrett was already retreating, his charge now a controlled withdrawal that continued to divide the beast's attention. The creature seemed unable to decide which threat to pursue, its head swinging between the axe-wielding human, the lightning-wreathed mage, and the two other men flanking it.

  More bolts struck, and the beast's screams grew more desperate as pain began to override its predatory instinct.

  Then the mage division arrived and rained magic upon it.

  Though the beast's fur was thick and its strength immense, the volley injured it enough to force a retreat, but not kill it.

  It fled deeper into the forest, crashing through the undergrowth and vanishing into the corrupted woods with surprising speed. Jonah tracked its retreat for a moment before turning his attention to the wounded man.

  Rebecca was already there, her healer's hands glowing with restorative energy as she worked on the mangled arm. "He'll live. Deep lacerations, possible nerve damage, but he'll live."

  "Get him to the medical wagon." Jonah's voice held no relief, only cold assessment. "And find out why they were so far out."

  The answer came quickly. The group had separated from the perimeter to use the designated latrine areas, convinced that a few extra meters of privacy were worth the risk. Their companions had called after them, but they'd waved them off.

  Moments later, the beast had struck.

  Jonah addressed the gathered fighters, his voice carrying across the clearing.

  "This is what happens when protocol is broken. That man is alive because his companions raised the alarm quickly, and because Justin and Garrett responded before the beast could kill him. Next time, you might not be so blessed."

  He let the words sink in.

  "Anyone else who decides their comfort matters more than survival can explain their reasoning to me personally. I guarantee they won't enjoy the conversation—or maybe have it with the last man that beast ate while he was still in its stomach."

  The column reformed and continued its march.

  No one else strayed from formation.

  They reached the river crossing at sunset.

  Jonah stood at the water's edge, studying the obstacle before them. The river had been wide before the System's transformation. Now it was a churning nightmare of currents and rapids, the water moving with enough force to tear away anything caught in its grip.

  Martinez appeared at his shoulder, his face reflecting the same concern Jonah felt. "How the hell are we supposed to cross this?"

  "There are narrow areas," Jonah replied. "We just need to be careful."

  The Spear Sergeant didn't look convinced. "With eight hundred people? Including the wounded?"

  Jonah studied the river's flow, comparing what he saw against memories that might be decades out of date. The crossing he remembered should have been here, in a section where the river narrowed between rocky outcroppings, where careful navigation could get people across safely.

  This wasn't it.

  I'm south of where I planned. A few miles, maybe more.

  The realization settled without panic. Adjustments were always necessary; the System's transformation created variations that no amount of knowledge could perfectly predict. Adapting to the new reality was paramount, clinging to outdated expectations, foolish.

  "We camp here tonight. Tomorrow, we move north along the bank. The crossing I need is a few miles upstream."

  "You're sure?"

  "Sure enough." Jonah turned away from the deadly current. "This area is more defensible. We'll use the river as a natural barrier and establish positions to cover the other approaches. Nothing gets close without us knowing."

  With practiced efficiency, the camp took shape. Fighters established perimeters while non-combatants set up shelters and cooking fires. The river's constant roar masked sounds that might otherwise alert them to approaching threats.

  As darkness fell, Jonah found himself at the water's edge again, staring at currents that could kill even a Warboss. The raw power contained in that flow was humbling, a stark reminder that the System had created dangers beyond any monster's capabilities.

  Tomorrow, we find the crossing. Then one more day to the settlement stone. I wonder if Derek is stupid enough to make a run for the settlement stone before me.

  Jonah shook his head.

  That would be a disaster.

  It would require the entire army to free the settlement stone.

  Or the vast majority, at least.