Strongest Radioactive System

The forest seemed endless, each shadow and twisted tree blending into the next, creating an ever-shifting maze of brambles, vines, and looming branches.

As Volk, Mareen, and Lira continued along the tangled paths, the trails they'd been following grew more convoluted, filled with odd twists and crisscrosses that only deepened the sense of confusion.

Mareen's eyes stayed sharp, flicking between the various tracks on the forest floor as if she were reading some hidden language woven into the soil.

"See here?" she whispered, crouching low once again and brushing aside a cluster of leaves, revealing a faint, almost invisible set of prints just off to the left.

"They tried to mask their tracks with a false lead—another circle, doubling back."

Her voice was laced with focus, and she traced a claw mark half-buried beneath a layer of forest debris.

"These hounds... their master is thorough. But he didn't count on us being just as relentless."

Volk grunted in agreement, but a flicker of impatience crossed his face.

The more they veered from the original trail, the more distracted he felt.

Every twist and diversion made him wonder if they were only wasting time, but Mareen's careful pace and unerring sense for each faint scuff and paw print reassured him just enough to keep going.

Moving forward, they entered a dense section of forest where the light had nearly vanished.

The canopy overhead was woven so thick that it choked out any stray sunbeam that dared to intrude.

A damp chill hung in the air, the kind that clung to their skin and seemed to slow time.

It was here, surrounded by silence so complete it was deafening, that Mareen stopped once more, raising her hand to halt them.

She pointed into the distance, past the tangled brush and between two massive, moss-covered oaks.

"There," she murmured, her voice barely a breath.

Volk squinted, following the line of her outstretched finger.

Through the gloom and the twisted branches, he spotted movement in the distance—a pair of dark, sleek shapes prowling low to the ground, gliding through the forest like wraiths.

The hounds.

Their outlines were just visible in the dim light, their bodies taut and powerful, every muscle coiled like a spring.

They moved with predatory grace, sniffing the air with twitching noses, alert but silent.

Even from this distance, Volk could see their eyes glinting with an unnatural, eerie light, scanning their surroundings for any sign of an intruder.

"They're on the move again," Mareen whispered, crouching lower behind a thick tree trunk, her gaze unwavering.

Lira, beside her, sucked in a sharp breath, clutching a small stone as if it could ward off the very beasts they tracked. "If they catch our scent—"

"They won't," Mareen interjected, her voice calm but edged with quiet authority. "They're focused on something up ahead. Something they're bound to return to." She glanced at Volk, a spark of determination in her eyes. "This is our chance."

They continued their quiet pursuit, slipping through the underbrush like shadows.

Volk moved with surprising stealth for his size, each step barely a whisper against the forest floor.

The hounds' trails grew fresher, their paw prints more defined, as they made their way deeper into the forest.

Volk's eyes narrowed, focused on every twist and turn as Mareen guided them.

With each step, she scanned the trail carefully, her fingers brushing against each print left by the hounds, deciphering the direction like it was some unspoken language only she could understand.

A thick canopy of branches loomed overhead, casting mottled shadows across their path, while the muted sunlight that trickled through the leaves danced in patches upon the ground.

Strange scents filled the air, mingling with the faint, almost musky trail the hounds had left behind, leading them through the winding forest paths with each footfall.

Volk grunted, turning to Mareen. "Just keep following them. I need that blonde wretch, not his pets."

Mareen nodded, glancing back to Lira, who trailed a bit further behind, her eyes darting nervously from side to side.

She clutched her makeshift weapon tightly, ready to defend herself from any sudden threat.

The silence was broken only by the occasional snap of a twig underfoot, and the soft rustle of leaves as they pressed on, tracking their prey like hunters on the trail of a beast.

After several minutes, they passed through a dense thicket, where branches seemed to claw at them, their sharp ends snagging on clothing and armor alike.

Volk brushed off a stubborn vine that had wrapped around his arm, muttering curses under his breath.

They emerged on the other side, and there, just ahead, he saw the two hounds again—sleek, dark shadows moving with an unnerving quiet, their noses skimming the ground as they weaved in and out of sight between the trees.

The group paused. Volk held up a hand, and they crouched low, watching as the hounds continued their path, seeming oblivious to their presence for now.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Volk took a steadying breath, his eyes trained on the hounds. He wasn't about to let them slip away.

"They've got a scent," Mareen whispered, her gaze fixed intently on the hounds.

"Then we keep close," Volk growled. He leaned forward, eyes locked on his quarry. "But don't let them see us."

With careful steps, they followed, keeping to the shadows as they moved in a wide arc, never getting too close, but never losing sight of their targets.

Mareen pointed out small, almost imperceptible indicators along the way—a paw print half-hidden under a leaf, a broken branch, a disturbed patch of earth.

It was as if every tiny detail held a message, guiding them forward.

The hounds' path led them through dense brambles and under fallen logs, until they reached a small, clear brook that bubbled quietly through the undergrowth.

The hounds paused there, lapping at the water with quick, sharp motions, their dark coats shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Volk tensed, watching as they drank, his muscles coiled, ready to spring if the need arose.

Just then, one of the hounds lifted its head, its ears pricked forward, nose twitching as it sniffed the air.

Volk, Mareen, and Lira froze, pressing themselves flat against the ground, holding their breath as the hound's gaze swept over their hiding spot.

Its eyes gleamed in the shadows, scanning for any movement.

After a tense moment, the hound lowered its head, returning to its drink, apparently none the wiser.

Mareen let out a silent sigh of relief, casting a wary glance back at Volk, who gave a barely perceptible nod, signaling for them to keep moving.

They waited until the hounds finished at the brook and continued down the path, then slowly resumed their pursuit.

They followed the hounds through narrow trails and winding paths, ducking under low-hanging branches and squeezing between thick bushes that seemed to claw at them with every step.

Mareen kept her eyes fixed ahead, focused entirely on the trail, while Volk's gaze flicked between their surroundings, ever watchful for any sign that the hounds might have noticed them.

But just when they thought they'd mastered the art of silent pursuit, something shifted in the air.

One of the hounds halted abruptly, its body tensing as it turned its head, sniffing at the air once more.

Volk stilled, his eyes narrowing, realizing that the hounds were becoming more alert.

He motioned for Mareen and Lira to crouch lower, and they obeyed, their breaths shallow as they waited, hoping the hounds hadn't detected them.

Yet the hounds' noses twitched, and a low growl escaped their throats, vibrating through the silence of the forest.

They turned in unison, their eyes locking directly onto the trio hiding in the brush.

Lira let out a quiet gasp, but Volk remained motionless, his gaze locked onto the hounds with grim determination.

For a moment, there was a tense standoff—the hounds staring at them, hackles raised, teeth bared, while Volk, Mareen, and Lira held their ground.

But then, to everyone's shock, one of the hounds snarled and lunged at its companion, clamping its powerful jaws around the other's neck.

The sudden savagery of the attack was horrifying.

The two hounds tore into each other with brutal efficiency, snapping and biting, their fangs gleaming in the shadows.

Blood spattered the ground as they wrestled, locked in a vicious death grip, their snarls and growls echoing through the forest like the cries of wild beasts.

Lira stifled a scream, watching as the two hounds clawed and bit at each other with relentless ferocity, as if compelled by some unseen force.