The wind whispered first.
It rolled in with a low, haunting breath through the swaying grass outside, carrying the scent of wet moss, blood-soaked bark, and something else—something older than language. Moonlight spilled down from above, casting pale silver over the clearing through the gaps in the cracked hut walls. Three moons hung in the sky, cold and watching, their white glow painting the world in ghostlight.
Zay sat motionless, his back straight, arms loose at his sides. The glow from the moons gleamed against the sweat on his skin through a broken window, trailing over the faint violet shimmer of his aura. His hair, black as midnight, caught the faintest glints of silver as he turned to the woman before him, parting his lips to speak—
Then they heard it.
A low, wet rustling. Like vines dragging across the jungle floor, thick and soaked. Then the whispers came—layered and conflicting. Some like children's voices, others like dying breaths, all impossible to place. All wrong.
Then—
Thirteen different roars, released in unison, each distinct. Some high-pitched and echoing, others low and thunderous. The hut trembled. The woman's eyes went wide, her pupils contracting as her breath hitched.
Zay blinked, his brows drawing together. "What the hell was that?" he muttered, turning slowly toward the door. He didn't know what was coming—but his instincts screamed it would be something he'd hate to fight.
The woman didn't move for several seconds, her voice barely above a whisper. "That confirms it… You're not from this land."
Zay's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
She swallowed hard. "That was a Tharvul's howl."
"A what now?"
"A Tharvul," she repeated, this time with weight behind it. "A beast that's walked these lands since... over nine hundred years ago. That's the earliest we have recorded. Most don't live long enough to write anything." Her sapphire-glowing eyes dimmed, her face pale beneath the white light of the moons.
Zay exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he rose to his feet.
'Just my damn luck,' he thought with a bitter chuckle, extending a hand.
"Give me your damn sword," he said, voice calm but firm. "And get out of here. Now."
His amethyst eyes locked with hers—steady, unwavering.
The woman's gaze dropped to his body, noticing his chest, and arms, the quiet power coiling beneath his skin. She stood slowly. "You won't win," she said. "But if you want to die as a sacrifice for me, be my guest."
She untied the katana from her waist and handed it over. "That blade's sealed. It only obeys those it deems worthy... and it hasn't even chosen me. Which is why I have a dagger..."
She didn't wait for a reply—just turned and sprinted into the night, vanishing beyond the reach of the hut's flickering shadows.
Zay watched her go, jaw tight. "I'm not being anyone's damn sacrifice," he muttered, his voice rising with quiet defiance. "Not anymore."
Violet aura burst from his body in a roar of light and heat, the air crackling around him. He stepped out into the open, where the wind was stronger now, pulling the grass sideways and bending trees. The whispers grew louder, closer, crawling into his ears and under his skin.
He flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles as he unsheathed the katana.
The blade gleamed silver—no rust, no dirt, as if untouched by time. As the weapon slid free, a pulse of silver aura flared from it, answering Zay's own. The sword's edge sharpened visibly, the air around it shimmering.
Zay's lips curved into a sharp grin.
"Well… looks like I finally found the right weapon for me. But what the hell is up with this thing?"
Then it emerged.
The Tharvul.
[Warning: The Sequence Beast that has appeared in front of you is beast of Abyssal Rank.]
Zay swallowed hard at the warning, but accepted it.
Its howl came first—an unnatural sound that fractured the earth beneath it, throwing up dust and debris as it moved. Craters formed with each step.
Its body was elongated, segmented, wrapped in bark-like plating split with jagged scars and coated in rotting moss. From its torso sprouted thirteen necks—serpentine, thick, and muscular—each ending in a twisted skull: deer, bear, wolf, serpent, bird, insect, and more, some too warped and unnatural to name. Glowing red eyes burned in every socket, and black sap dripped from their mouths, sizzling and smoking as it hit the soil.
No fur. No scales.
Only living vines, coiled tight around its form, pulsing with life. Thorn-covered tendrils whipped outward from its back like tails, slamming into trees with explosive force, shattering trunks and gouging earth.
It was death made flesh.
Zay stood his ground, katana in hand, silver and violet auras dancing violently around him.
He took one breath. Then another.
And he smiled again. "Let's get this shit started."
The beast and Zay sprinted toward each other, the ground trembling beneath their feet. One of the thirteen heads lunged forward, its jaws snapping wildly, biting at the air as it surged straight for him.
Zay tilted his head to the right and swung his katana upward in one fluid motion—cleanly severing the head. Black sap sprayed out, sizzling as it hit the grass.
Without hesitation, he rushed forward.
Three more heads snapped through the air, fangs glinting under the moons' light. Zay leapt high, aura flaring around him like violet fire. He angled the katana downward, aiming straight for the beast's main body. But the vines coiled around its bark-plated form reacted instantly, shooting up like whips.
Blade met tendril—silver aura clashing with a vibrant forest green. The impact detonated in a blazing flash, throwing Zay back like a comet.
'Fuck!' he thought, gritting his teeth as he slammed into the ground. He rolled hard across the earth, dirt and leaves sticking to his back before he came to a stop, breath ragged.
The wind picked up, howling between the trees. Grass bent and swirled. Above him, the moons cast their pale glow over the clearing.
Zay looked up just in time to see the severed head reattaching, vines slithering up to bind it in place. The Tharvul let out a loud hiss, its mouths snarling in unison as Zay stood back up.
Then it charged.
Five heads whipped through the air toward him, their jaws slicing wind apart as they closed the distance with terrifying speed.
Zay leapt again—hoping to force the heads upward, to stall the beast's advance. The heads halted, circling beneath him, just as he expected.
But then the entire creature jumped.
The Tharvul launched into the air, its body writhing mid-flight. Vines lashed forward, cracking through the air like thunder. One struck Zay across the shoulder.
Pain exploded through his arm as the force hurled him sideways—his body slammed into a tree with a sharp crack. He coughed violently, saliva splattering the bark as he dropped to one knee.
"D-Damn... what a strong bastard," he muttered between shallow breaths.
He spat blood onto the ground. The vines recoiled back to the beast.
And then, it howled.
A sound that didn't belong in this world—low, guttural, and carried on the wind like a death knell. The trees shivered. The moons flickered behind passing clouds.
Zay wiped the blood off of his mouth and pushed himself up, his legs trembling beneath him. His shoulder throbbed where the vine had struck, blood running down his arm. He grit his teeth and steadied his breathing.
The Tharvul's thirteen heads moved in unison—yet not. Each one jerked, slithered, twitched in a different direction, eyes glowing like crimson lanterns in the dark. It didn't wait.
The beast lunged again.
Zay moved.
He ducked under the first head's strike, rolled between two snapping maws, and brought his katana across with brutal precision—severing a second skull with a burst of black sap. He twisted on his heel, catching a third head in mid-air and slashing through its jaw, snapping bone and tearing muscle.
Three heads down. But the remaining ten were already circling.
A fourth head barreled toward his back—he turned just in time to slash it across the snout. But another slammed into his ribs from the side, lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing through a tree trunk with a loud snap of splintering wood.
He coughed, spitting blood into the air as he hit the ground. His katana skidded across the grass, stopping several feet away.
Vines lashed out, tearing at the earth, ripping trees from their roots. Zay barely rolled aside, clutching his side. The creature was toying with him now—ten brains working together, calculating his limits.
He reached for his blade—but a thorned tendril wrapped around his leg and dragged him backward across the jungle floor. Stones cut into his skin, the scent of rotting moss and damp earth filling his lungs as he fought to breathe.
Another head dove toward him—Zay slashed upward with his free hand, using raw aura to blast it back—but two more followed, crashing into him from opposite angles like hammers.
He hit the ground hard, face-first, groaning through grit teeth. His body ached. His aura flared in panic, flickering violently around him.
All of the severed heads began reattaching again. The stumps twitched. The vines regrew.
Zay wiped blood from his lip and dragged himself toward the katana. His fingers touched the hilt just as a head slammed down behind him, narrowly missing his back.
He rolled, sliced upward, cut another throat—but the movement left him exposed. A thick vine caught him mid-swing and hurled him through the air. He crashed into a boulder, the impact cracking the stone and stealing the breath from his lungs.
For a moment, everything spun. He tasted iron. Heard growls, howls, and roars coming from the jungle.
Three creatures made of rot appeared from the forest, their crimson glowing eyes scattered across their decayed bodies. Tails of vines lashed around as they stood tall, as imposing as the Tharvul, though less dangerous in appearance.
[Warning: The Sequence Beast that has appeared in front of you is beast of Abyssal Rank.]
They screamed as the tails of vines lashed forward toward Zay, while the Tharvul sent all of its heads forward—its others having regenerated. All thirteen heads charged at him, accompanied by more than thirty vines from the other beast, surging through the air.
"Today is not my fucking day!" Zay shouted as he leapt into the air. The heads twisted and redirected, aiming for Zay. Meanwhile, the vines from the other beast continued their relentless advance. Some of the vines pierced through all thirteen heads, and as the body of the Tharvul leapt back, the vines shifted course and surged toward Zay.
As Zay began to descend back toward the ground, the vines charged at him. He swung his katana, cutting through some of them instantly, but others slammed into his body, sending him flying backward. Some of the vines had pierced his skin, causing blood to flow. Another crack sounded in his back as he hit the ground, his chest and back now covered in dirt and grass. A tree branch dropped onto his back, and he coughed up blood.
The beast began to advance toward Zay, its vines slowly slithering back into its decayed body.
[Forsaken by Dawn has drawn the attention of a follower.]
From the shadows of trees, the creature from the chamber emerged—mist-born, longsword in hand, stepping silently in front of Zay.
The beast shrieked and unleashed every vine it had, launching them toward the figure in a blur of motion. But the mist-born didn't flinch. With a single motion, it raised its longsword high into the air—and in the next instant, every vine disintegrated into black mist, scattering harmlessly into the wind.
[Nubilum has appeared. Core Rank: Hidden by choice.]
Nubilum lowered its blade and began walking forward, each step slow and deliberate, as it approached the hulking mass of rot. The beast screeched again, louder this time, and charged with a roar. One arm of tangled vines—pulsing with searing red aura—swung violently toward Nubilum.
The attack passed straight through.
Nubilum's body shimmered with black mist, reforming itself the moment the vines touched it. Silent. Unshaken.
Then, it raised its longsword once more, now cloaked in coiling tendrils of dark mist. The blade came down—not with brute force, but with slowness and precision.
It didn't slice.
It seeped.
The mist-wrapped blade dissolved into the beast's body, invading it from the inside. The rot-born monster froze mid-scream. It couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't even suffer. Its body trembled, suspended in place.
Nubilum turned away, walking calmly toward the Tharvul.
Behind it, the creature of decay began to fall apart as black mist consumed it from the inside out. In seconds, it dissolved into mist and drifted away on the wind like smoke from a dying star.