The next morning, Ethan woke up to the scent of something warm and inviting.

He opened his eyes to see Lia setting down a small tray with a steaming bowl of soup and a couple of bread buns. His stomach growled at the sight, and he stretched with a groan before sitting up.

"You really went out this early just for this?" Ethan asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Lia gave a small smile. "It wasn't that hard. There was a bakery a few streets down. The soup is a little thin, but it's hot."

Ethan didn't need much convincing. He grabbed a bun and tore into it, savoring the warmth spreading through his empty stomach. After days of living off whatever wild game they could find, this was practically a feast.

Lia ate quietly beside him, taking careful, slow bites. Ethan, on the other hand, finished his portion quickly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before getting up to stretch.

"We should get going," he said, glancing toward the window where morning sunlight spilled into the tiny, dimly lit room. Lia nodded, gathering their things while Ethan strapped on the new gear they acquired, quite shoddy compared to his last one.

By the time they checked out of the inn and stepped onto the streets, the town was already alive with its usual restless energy. Merchants set up their carts, calling out prices in loud, boisterous voices. Rough-looking men loitered on corners, watching passersby with sharp eyes. A few drunken figures from last night still slumped against the walls, mumbling incoherently.

Ethan and Lia walked without much purpose, navigating through the town's dusty, uneven streets. They weren't in a rush—not yet. But then, Ethan stopped.

A group of men stood in a small gathering near the market square, arguing loudly. Their voices carried over the usual street noise, drawing attention from passing travelers.

"Come on, we just need one more person!"

"The damn thing won't go down unless we've got at least ten people!"

"We've already lost three guys—do you think we can take it with just us?"

Ethan listened for a moment, curiosity piqued. A hunt? A strong beast? And a group that was desperate enough to take on just about anyone? This could be useful.

The men arguing turned as he approached, their expressions wary. They weren't the usual arrogant adventurers—they looked tired, frustrated, and a little desperate.

"What are you hunting?" Ethan asked, folding his arms.

One of the men, a muscular man with a scar down his left cheek, eyed him before answering. "The Blackfang Panther. A rare grade beast. It's been terrorizing the outskirts for weeks now. We've already lost a few hunters trying to take it down, and it's getting stronger."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. A rare grade beast. Could help level his minions faster.

"You're all level twenty-five?" Ethan asked, glancing at the group. Some of them shifted uncomfortably.

"More or less," the scarred man admitted. "A couple of us are lower, but we have the numbers."

Ethan nearly snorted. Numbers didn't mean anything if they were just going to get torn apart one by one. But still, this could be a good opportunity.

"I'll join," Ethan said simply.

The group exchanged glances, and then the scarred man grinned. "Good. We can leave in another hour if you are ready."

Ethan nodded. After chatting for a while, the scarred man led them to a quiet corner of the square where the rest of the group was gathering their things. Some of the other hunters glanced at Ethan, sizing him up briefly before turning their attention back to the task at hand.

"Let's get going," the scarred man, Mark said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now that the decision had been made. "We'll be trekking through the forest to the south. The Blackfang Panther is elusive, but we've got its scent marked. If we catch it off guard, we stand a better chance."

The rest of the group murmured in agreement, and they all began to move, heading towards the edge of the town. Ethan and Lia followed them. Ethan had half a mind to leave Lia back but she did not agree.

As they passed through the last few buildings, Mark warned. "Stay alert, it's not just the panther you need to worry about out there. There are other beasts that come out of the woodwork when the Blackfang is hunting. Stay in formation and keep an eye on the others."

The group continued into the dense trees, the thick canopy above swallowing most of the sunlight. Ethan moved near the middle of the group, his eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp focus.

His minions were all in their dormant state, hidden for now, but he was ready to summon them at a moment's notice. This was supposed to be a coordinated hunt, but he had little faith in these strangers. He had seen it before—when fear set in, most men turned into liabilities rather than allies.

Mark led at the front, followed closely by two other men who seemed to be his closest allies. A thin man named Gale and a heavier-set brute named Toren. They were the most experienced of the bunch, and from what Ethan had overheard earlier, they were also the ones who had encountered the panther before.

Ethan decided to get more information. "You said you've faced this thing before. What happened?"