Chapter 5
The Stone-Tusk Boar
The morning air in the courtyard was sharp with anticipation. Drill-Sergeant Korbin stood before the assembled squires, his gaze sweeping over them like a hawk scanning for weak prey.
"Listen close, you green boys," he barked, his voice cutting through the chill. "Drills are one thing. Facing something that wants to eat you is another. Today, you'll hunt a Stone-Tusk Boar."
A nervous murmur rippled through the ranks. Kaelen, deep within Renly's mind, focused, sifting through the squire's memories. The Stone-Tusk was a common, but dangerous, quarry. Larger and more aggressive than its earthly counterpart, it was named for the rock-like, ossified protrusions on its lower jaw, which it used to dig for roots and, when threatened, to devastating charge.
"It's not some deep-forest horror," Korbin continued, seeing their fear. "You won't find a Shadow-Stalker this close to the keep. But don't be a fool. The boar's charge can shatter your leg. Its hide is tough as old leather. And its tusk… its tusk has a trick." He paused for effect. "When enraged, it can channel earth energy through its tusks, creating a small, localized tremor under its feet to disrupt your stance. It's a beast of the field and the fringe-forest, not a demon. But it will kill a careless boy just as dead."
Kaelen absorbed the information. So, even the local fauna had evolved with minor, instinctual abilities tied to the world's energy—a far cry from the genetically engineered horrors of Elysian, but a real threat here. This was a perfect, controlled environment to test Renly's progress.
They were split into groups of four. Kaelen's group included two other unremarkable squires and a lanky, serious boy named Tomas, who was rumored to have a trace of a "Hawk-Eye" bloodline, granting him sharp vision.
Their task was to track and corner a single boar reported in the Bramblewood, a thicket a few miles from the castle, and signal for the knights to make the kill. They were the beaters, the drivers. The risk was managed, but real.
The Bramblewood lived up to its name. Thorns tugged at their leather jerkins as they moved in a loose formation, their training spears held ready. Tomas took the lead, his eyes constantly scanning the ground.
"Here," Tomas whispered, pointing to a patch of disturbed earth and a deep, distinctive hoof-print. "Recent. It's heading for the creek."
They moved on, the silence between them tense. Kaelen, using Renly's body, found his senses heightened. He was acutely aware of the scent of damp soil and pine, the rustle of every small creature in the undergrowth. The squire's training, combined with Kaelen's own sharpened consciousness, made him more alert than the others.
It was Kaelen who heard the low, guttural grunt first. He held up a closed fist, and the group froze. Peering through a thicket, they saw it. The Stone-Tusk Boar was massive, its shoulders level with Renly's waist. Its dark, bristly hide was caked with mud, and the namesake stone-like tusks looked brutally functional. It was rooting for grubs, unaware of them.
Tomas signaled, and they began to fan out, trying to encircle it and drive it toward the clearing where Ser Joric waited. But one of the other squires, a boy named Will, stepped on a dry branch. The snap was like a crack of thunder.
The boar's head jerked up. Its small, intelligent eyes fixed on Will, and a low rage built in its chest. It wasn't just a beast; it was a creature of primal instinct and power.
With a terrifying squeal, it charged.
"Hold the line!" Tomas yelled, his voice cracking.
Kaelen didn't freeze. He braced, planting his feet as Korbin had drilled them a hundred times, lowering his spear. He wasn't in front of the charge, but off to the side. He saw the boar's tusks begin to glow faintly, a dull, earthy brown. As its hooves pounded the ground, the earth in a small radius around it seemed to shudder, a disorienting vibration that traveled up Kaelen's legs. The tremor ability—meant to make its victim stumble.
Will, directly in its path, faltered, his stance broken by the tremor. He stumbled backward, his spear wavering.
Kaelen acted. He wasn't a hero, he was a tactician. He lunged forward from the side, not at the boar's heavily armored head, but at its flank. He drove the blunt training spear hard into the beast's shoulder, not to pierce, but to distract and shove.
The boar veered, its charge disrupted. It squealed in rage and pain, turning its fury momentarily from the fallen Will towards Kaelen. In that second, a whistle cut the air, and a real hunting spear, thrown by Ser Joric, took the boar cleanly in the neck from the other side of the clearing. The beast collapsed, thrashing for a moment before going still.
Silence returned, broken only by heavy breathing.
Ser Joric strode into the clearing. He looked at the terrified Will, then at Kaelen, who was standing, spear still ready, his heart hammering in Renly's chest.
"You," Joric said, pointing a gauntleted finger at Kaelen. "You kept your head. You used the terrain and didn't try to be a hero. That's how you live." His eyes narrowed slightly, as if seeing Renly for the first time. "The rest of you… remember this feeling. Fear is fine. Letting it rule you is death."
As they trudged back to the castle, the other squires clapped Renly on the back, their earlier fear replaced by exhilaration. Kaelen accepted the praise quietly, but his mind was elsewhere.
He had felt it. Not just the beast's raw power, but the specific, earthy energy of its tremor ability. It was a crude, instinctual version of what the Knights could do, but it was of the same essence. He had stood his ground, and Renly's body had responded better than he'd hoped. The growth was happening.
He was no longer just a spectator in this world. He was learning its rules, surviving its challenges, and inching closer to the power he needed. The path was dangerous, but it was real.