He whirled around, glancing straight at Liam then returning eyes to Theo. The scar on his face seemed to deepen under the light.

  "Make a wager.

  Bet on whether I'll betray you or not.

  Bet on whether you can survive or not.

  Bet with your life, with your magical beast, with your own future."

  Vesper pointed behind:

  "In this world, only two types of people enter my team:

  Those who trust me—

  and those who think they can survive even if I betray them."

  He leaned close, the metallic blood scent on his armor wafting into Theo's face:

  "Which type are you?"

  In that moment, even the wind fell silent.

  Theo answered—voice soft but sharp as a dagger:

  "The type that doesn't die easily."

  Liam breathed heavily, but his eyes blazed with belligerent light; his hand steadier, stance firmer, spear blade brighter than ever before.

  Vesper nodded once, as if confirming something only he understood.

  "Good."

  He turned, continuing forward as if nothing had happened.

  Theo's eyes calmed again. He had his own judgment.

  Vesper led them further, then stopped at an isolated clearing outside town. The area was deserted, only a few old oaks and thick bushes—ideal for discreet meetings.

  He scanned around to ensure no strangers, then turned back, telling Liam and Theo, voice laden with expectation:

  "Prepare yourselves. There'll be a small introduction."

  Though they'd prepared since morning, the two also didn't mind warming up while discussing upcoming plans. Theo told Liam, voice carrying some warning:

  "There'll be a comprehensive combat capability test, Liam. Ready?"

  Liam's eyes showed a hint of urgency, but his voice was unusually calm:

  "Always."

  Before long, a group of about seven people appeared, walking with Ryel. This group included two women, four men, and one half-elf. Theo, with an archer's eyes, rapidly confirmed the characteristics of approaching subjects.

  The first female warrior Theo and Liam had met before had neat high-tied black hair, two swords crossed on her back. Her figure was lean, radiating a veteran warrior's presence. Today, she wore form-fitting, streamlined leather armor, highlighting flexibility. The dark mouth covering made her pale blue eyes even colder and more inscrutable.

  Standing beside her was the second girl, creating complete contrast. She had fair rosy skin, a fresh oval face. Her flame-red hair billowed like fire, green eyes always sparkling. She wore flexible hunting leathers, not heavy armor. Her appearance was youthful, with light freckles gently adorning her nose and cheeks. On her fingers she wore two eye-catching rings: one bright red and one jade blue.

  Among the remaining male warriors, two stood out with tall, muscular builds.

  The first had a weathered appearance. He had rough black hair and bushy beard covering half his sun-darkened face. His deep brown eyes radiated experienced competence. He wore half-plate—combining metal and hide—carrying a large shield and wielding a heavy war hammer.

  The second looked younger, with dark brown hair and less beard, but equally tall and muscular. He wore the same half-plate, carrying a large shield and wielding a double-bladed battle axe, clearly a pair of professionally trained frontline warriors.

  The next person had ordinary build, fair skin, and neat light brown hair. He wore light leather armor and carried a large crossbow, taking the long-range support archer position.

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  The last person also wore neat leather armor but had a distinctive appearance: he had a broad face, high cheekbones, and reddish-brown hair shaved on half his head. His sharp brown eyes focused on the long pike he held, ready to support the frontline.

  Theo's eyes narrowed, sweeping over the Night Hawks formation once with sharp focus. Each role, each piece of equipment was analyzed and arranged into position in his mind. He drew a conclusion: this was an absolutely complete and professional team, with clear division of labor, almost no significant weaknesses. This was precisely an ideal formation for frontal assault campaigns—an excellent and solid support for both Theo and Liam.

  They stopped before Vesper. Each gaze from Night Hawks members directed toward the two boys, carrying intense curiosity, mixed with doubt and a hint of indecipherable oddity. Vesper didn't let the tension linger; he clapped once decisively, drawing everyone's attention to himself.

  Vesper began introducing with resolute tone:

  "These are our new members: Theo and Liam."

  He paused, pointing skyward. Theo understood, placing two fingers to his lips, whistling a short command signal. Al immediately swooped down, perching neatly on his shoulder. The magical beast's eyes maintained their wary look, directed straight at the new formation.

  Vesper nodded with satisfaction:

  "And the magical beast Al."

  Vesper continued, voice resonating so all could clearly hear the newcomers' roles:

  "Theo handles archery, traps, and magical medicines. He'll be our logistics and strategic battlefield controller. Liam is a close-combat spear warrior, taking the frontline support position. He and Ronan will create solid mutual support."

  He looked at Al:

  "As for Al, Theo's flying magical beast, specializing in reconnaissance and wind-based magic. This pair will fill our reconnaissance gap."

  Then he began pointing to each person and introducing the team's official members with decisive tone, emphasizing each person's role:

  "First, the black-haired female warrior, Sable. She's a Dual Blade fighter, Swift Stride magic, responsible for raids and speed close combat, protecting Rowan."

  "Next, the red-haired girl, Rowan. She's the team's support mage and hunter, specializing in offensive Fire magic, Water magic control, and also Healing."

  "These two giants are Boris and Torvin. A pair of frontline warriors, specializing in hammers and large shields. With Blood Frenzy magic that reduces pain and increases strength, they're the team's physical defensive wall."

  "Next is Finn. He's a crossbow archer, specializing in providing precise and stable long-range fire support. Additionally, he's the craftsman responsible for maintaining and repairing weapons for the entire team."

  "And finally, the pike wielder is Ronan. His specialty is Thunder Edge magic that enhances weapon damage. He handles frontline support, breakthrough sieges as the team's powerful spearhead."

  Vesper concluded the introduction, eyes finding Ryel leaning against a nearby oak:

  "As for Ryel, you already know him. Half-elf, a versatile warrior with excellent archery and decent close combat, specializing in Shadow Cloak and Spell Arrow."

  Vesper continued speaking, his voice ringing out decisively like a command bell, completely conveying the test's seriousness:

  "Next is the official self-introduction. 10 Leagues (~50 km) Southeast from here is a Golden Oak tree. You must get there, by any means escape our pursuit, obtain the golden oak leaf. You have fifteen minutes to prepare and run ahead."

  He flashed a smile showing no mercy:

  "Reminder—there'll be no luck this time. We'll use full force. Time starts now!"

  Theo and Liam only fell silent for a blink, then immediately exploded into action. Not one superfluous movement—the two used all their normal strength, plunging straight into the thick forest. While running, Theo's sharp whistle rang out, ordering Al to quickly fly high, switching to high-altitude reconnaissance mode in the sky.

  They quickly disappeared behind the canopy under the Night Hawks group's attentive and appraising gaze.

  Just penetrating the first tree line, Liam let out a low growl. He activated the Remnant Wind movement technique, feeling power surge through his muscles. But instead of running straight on the ground, Liam used an odd movement style from the shadow concealment technique: he stepped on tree trunks or large oak branches. Thanks to this, Liam left almost no physical traces that could be found or pursued by Ryel. Moving fast as a phantom while observing, searching for the most reasonable path to assist Theo following behind.

  Theo, who hadn't reached shadow concealment level, had a completely different movement method. He unleashed full speed with Remnant Wind technique, but simultaneously didn't forget to deliberately create false traces: scraping tree trunks, stepping off-direction to cause confusion about the initial heading. For Theo, not yet being able to hide wasn't an absolute disadvantage; he was turning weakness into strength, using his own traces as tactical bait.

  Theo suddenly thought about setting several traps. But he quickly dismissed that idea. Night Hawks was a professional mercenary team—their life-and-death experience had reached superior levels. This time, they wouldn't underestimate opponents like before. Theo understood clearly: setting traps would waste precious time and only leave more tracking traces.

  He needed optimization. The goal was speed and distance. This pursuit was a race of endurance and strategy, not simple trickery.

  Fifteen precious minutes passed.

  Ryel stepped forward, drawing a special whistling arrow from his quiver. He drew the bow—the arrow flew fast toward the Southeast with a resonating whistle, tearing through the forest's silence, signaling the hunt officially began.

  Vesper ordered decisively:

  "Ryel, Sable, Torvin, Ronan! Pursuit formation—catch those two kids."

  The four nodded. Torvin quickly handed his large shield to Boris to hold, only gripping a lighter double-bladed battle axe, trading defense for speed.

  The four immediately accelerated. Ryel and Ronan led—Ryel using hunter senses to track traces, while Ronan with his pike cleared the way, sweeping aside all obstacles. Their speed was lightning-fast, almost not needing to look carefully to determine Theo and Liam's direction.

  Vesper turned to the remaining people, his voice full of mockery and confidence:

  "The rest follow me. We'll intercept at the Golden Oak."

  Rowan and Finn smiled lightly, faces showing some excitement before this pursuit battle. Only Boris remained serious, standing there holding Torvin's shield, ready to await the leader's next command.