Chapter 360: The Price of Becoming

The seven of them shifted subtly, boots pressing into snow-softened earth as they stared at Ethan in expectant silence, nervousness mixing with anticipation and dread.

For a moment, he seemed entirely unbothered by the weight of their attention. He cleared his throat, lifted his wineskin, and took a long pull. An appreciative sound escaped him before he could stop it.

He grimaced slightly. "Apologies," he said, lowering the wineskin. "I’m parched. And also, I need you all to settle down and stop behaving like this test is a life-or-death situation."

Uther snorted under his breath. "For some people, it might as well be."

Ethan’s mouth curved into a faint smile. "Fair point."

Then his expression shifted. It sharpened suddenly, whatever levity had lingered draining away as he straightened.

"My task," Ethan said, "is simple in wording." He paused, taking a look around. "But perhaps not in execution."

The forest seemed to lean closer as the trainees listened with held breaths.

"I need you to catch at least one."

Sophia frowned faintly. One what? she thought to herself.

"You can bring two," Ethan continued. "Or three. It doesn’t matter. But the lowest acceptable number is one. I wouldn’t like it, but it’s something."

A quiet tension began to coil in the group. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"I want the body of a Tidebreaker Korrath," he told them.

The silence that followed was immediate.

For a heartbeat, no one breathed. They just stared at him with wide eyes. Then, just like that, they spoke up in surprise, shock, and disbelief.

"What?"

"Did he just—"

"That has to be a mistake."

"Sir, do you know what you’re asking—"

Ethan lifted a hand to silence them. Sophia noticed that he looked calm—extremely so.

"Rather than say I’m asking you to do it," Ethan said calmly, "it would be more accurate to say I’m telling you to do it."

The voices faltered.

"I know exactly what I just asked you to do," Ethan continued. "And I’ll repeat it, since there seems to be some... resistance."

His gaze swept across them, unflinching.

"I need you to bring me the body of a Tidebreaker Korrath. That is my task for you."

Joren took a step forward despite himself. "Sir," he said, trying—and failing—to keep the strain from his voice, "a Tidebreaker Korrath may not be as dangerous as a Skylur, but it’s still lethal. Especially for trainees like us who haven’t actually fought beasts in the forest."

Ethan studied him for a long moment.

Then he smiled softly.

"You’re forgetting something," he said.

He reached down and untucked his tunic from his trousers.

Before anyone could stop him, he lifted the fabric.

A jagged scar stretched across his lower abdomen—angry, pale, and unmistakably old. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t neat. Sophia could only imagine what he must have gone through to bear a scar that deep and vicious.

Ethan let them look for a while.

"I faced a Skylur on my first day as a hunter," he said quietly. "I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t experienced. I’d never fought a beast like that before—or even any fucking beast, for that matter."

He dropped his tunic back into place.

"It is no news that I was on the verge of death," he told them.

"If it hadn’t been for Elder Lysander," Ethan continued, his voice steady but edged with something sharper, "I wouldn’t even be standing here. My teammates—the ones who survived—dragged me back half-dead. And you’re all forgetting something else too."

His gaze hardened.

"Some of the people I was with that day didn’t come back at all."

No one spoke.

"Some of those men and women had trained their whole lives," Ethan went on. "Some of them were hunters for less than a day. Half a day. When it had been their dream for years. We were too confident and thought that because we were officially hunters, we could fight the beast—when we had no experience even fighting one as tiny as a moonfin. And that’s assuming you can even fight a moonfin."

Sophia felt the weight of his words settle deep in her chest, as did the others.

"Yes," Ethan said. "The Tidebreaker Korrath is dangerous. It may even be deadly for you, since you have no experience. But danger has a way of revealing what a person can become."

He stepped closer now, boots crunching softly.

"This test is harsh. For some of you, it might even feel unreasonable. But it will make you better—stronger—more aware. And if any of you ever face a Skylur in the future, you’ll understand why I chose this."

"The Tidebreaker is similar to a Skylur in its attack patterns," he continued. "Only it’s faster. And it moves on land and in water."

A few trainees shifted uneasily.

"I know what I’m asking you to do," Ethan said. "And I’m doing it anyway."

Silence fell again.

Then Holly spoke.

"And just how many Tidebreakers do you want?" she asked coolly. "Since you clearly intend to eat them."

The air sharpened instantly.

Ethan turned to her slowly.

He chuckled—but there was nothing warm in the sound.

"Careful," he said softly. "You forget that I am your superior, not your equal in rank."

Holly stiffened in shock. Ethan had never spoken to her this way. In fact, they had only ever spoken in passing, even though they knew each other and had attended Phillip’s classes together.

"You will accord me the respect that my position demands," Ethan continued. "I already told you how many bodies I require. If you’d been listening instead of thinking of a way to make a snide comment, you’d know."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"And in case you’ve forgotten," he added, "let me remind you."

"The hide of a Tidebreaker Korrath is used throughout the pack," Ethan said. "Armor linings. Cloaks. Training gear. Some of the clothes you’re wearing were likely made from its skin."

There was a beat of silence.

"What you do here doesn’t benefit only you," he added. "It benefits the pack."

Holly’s jaw tightened at the disrespect she felt.

"I won’t tolerate disrespect," Ethan said flatly. "Not toward me. Not toward anyone else."

He turned then, facing the vast forest stretching behind him.

"Be careful," he said. "Move and work together. Finish the task."

He glanced back at them once more.

"And don’t forget," Ethan added, "while you complete my task, you still have your individual assessments to meet."

The weight of that settled heavily.

He met their eyes one final time.

"May the goddess be with you."

Then Ethan walked toward a nearby tree, leapt lightly, and climbed it with practiced ease—an ease that made Sophia jealous, because she wasn’t nearly as good at climbing—settling onto a thick branch as he lifted his wineskin and took another slow sip.