Altleno stood before the edge of the forest, the air thick and unmoving. From a distance, he could already smell the rot — a foul mixture of spoiled food, blood, and something far worse.
The forest floor was littered with broken carriages and snapped wheels, their wooden frames half-buried in the soil. Torn cloth fluttered in the wind like mourning flags.
He stepped forward, the earth soft beneath his boots, every breath heavier than the last. As he moved deeper, the smell grew stronger — a stench that clawed into his nose and memory. Then, among the ruin, he froze.
Before him lay the body of the man he'd killed — the adventurer whose face he'd torn apart.
But something was wrong. The corpse was cleaner now, surgically opened. His chest was carved in perfect lines, the ribs split neatly apart.
Altleno crouched, eyes narrowing. "This wasn't done by monsters," he whispered.
He looked closer — no organs, no blood pooling, just hollow space where life once lived. The body had been harvested.
A chill crept up his spine. For the first time in a while, Altleno didn't feel like the predator. He felt watched.
He straightened up and brushed the dirt off his hands. "Whatever did this," he muttered, "wasn't human."
But still, he pressed on, deeper into the forest — following the trail of decay.
The forest was silent—too silent.
Altleno's boots pressed against the damp ground, each step sinking slightly into the soft earth. The scent of rot hung heavy in the air.
Then—rustle.
He froze. The sound came again, sharper this time, from the thick bush ahead.
Before he could react, something whistled through the air—a spear, its tip glinting faintly in the dim light.
Instinct took over. Altleno twisted his head just in time.
The spear sliced past his cheek, close enough that he felt the cold sting of its wind.
Had he been a heartbeat slower, it would've gone straight through his skull.
His eyes narrowed. He stepped forward slowly, scanning the trees.
That's when he saw them—pairs of eyes, glowing faintly from the shadows, too many to count.
The rustling grew louder, heavier. Then, from between the bushes, ogres emerged—massive, hunched creatures with crude weapons and thick, matted skin. Their growls rumbled through the air like rolling thunder.
Altleno lowered his stance, his aura flickering faintly around him.
"So… it's you," he muttered, smirking slightly. "Let's see how much I've improved."
The first ogre roared and charged.
Altleno didn't move—until the very last second. Then, his hand shot forward.
The battle had begun.
The fight began instantly.
Altleno drew on the lessons Ru had drilled into him—fluid movement, steady footing, strike fast, retreat faster. He ducked under a swinging club, pivoted, and landed a clean punch against an ogre's jaw. Another kick followed, cracking through a thick leg bone.
For a moment, he felt confident. The ogres stumbled back under his blows.
But there were too many.
When he struck one down, two more filled its place.
He parried one strike, only to be slammed from behind by another's club. The impact sent a jolt through his spine, and he barely managed to stay upright.
They were in perfect sync—moving not like beasts, but like trained soldiers.
Every time Altleno turned to face one, another lunged from the shadows. The air filled with snarls, the ground shaking beneath their charge.
Then—a mistake.
One ogre swept its arm low, catching Altleno's legs and sending him crashing onto his back.
The earth burst around him, dirt and leaves flying as the creatures pounced.
Dozens of claws and fists rained down. He raised his arms to shield himself, but the blows came too fast. Each hit drove the air from his lungs, every second slower, heavier.
Rage boiled in his chest.
Then—it happened.
His aura erupted.
A deep crimson light exploded from his body, rotting everything it touched. The ogres closest to him screamed as their flesh bubbled and sloughed off. The rest stumbled backward, howling in pain and confusion.
The forest went eerily silent except for the hissing of decaying bodies.
Altleno rose slowly, breathing hard, eyes glowing faintly red.
The survivors regrouped in a half-circle, their massive frames trembling—but not from fear.
Something else moved beneath them.
The ground pulsed once.
Then again.
Unaware of what lurked deep beneath the earth, Altleno steadied himself—his aura flickering, the soil beneath his feet beginning to crack.
It was as though Altleno's aura had torn through more than just flesh and soil —
it had broken something ancient.
Beneath the forest floor, a deep pulse echoed.
Then, from the cracks in the ground… an eye opened.
A blinding light flashed, and the earth screamed — splintering, twisting, breaking apart as if the forest itself were alive and in pain.
The ogres, once fierce and united, froze in terror.
Their instincts screamed louder than any command.
They turned to flee, but the ground beneath them split wide open. One by one, they vanished into the collapsing earth — their roars fading into the void below.
Altleno staggered back, shielding his face from the rushing wind and rising dust. The world around him was crumbling.
For the first time in years, he felt fear.
The soil beneath his feet cracked again, and he made his choice.
He ran.
Branches whipped against his face as he sprinted, the tremors chasing him like thunder. His legs burned, his breath tore through his chest — but he refused to stop.
Tears streamed down his face from the wind and dust, but he didn't care.
He slipped on a thick root, his body slamming into the dirt, yet with sheer determination — and his deep fear of falling — he clawed his way back up and kept running.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he burst through the final line of trees and stumbled to a stop at a safe distance.
Behind him, the forest collapsed inward, swallowed by the gaping wound in the earth.
Altleno fell to his knees, staring in horror at the abyss he had unleashed.
The wind howled through the shattered woods like the cry of something waking after a long sleep.
Altleno stood at the edge of the ruined forest, chest heaving, sweat and dust streaking his face.
He let out a shaky sigh — a breath of relief, disbelief, and exhaustion.
But then… the air changed.
A heavy pressure settled behind him.
The wind stilled. Even the birds that usually sang in the distance went silent.
Altleno froze. The hairs on his neck stood on end.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned.
And there it was.
A dragon — enormous, ancient, its scales black as midnight and eyes burning like molten gold. The creature's size dwarfed the trees, its shadow swallowing the forest in darkness.
Each exhale from its nostrils came out as a hiss of smoke and ash.
Altleno stumbled back, his eyes wide with awe and terror.
This was no ordinary beast — this was something born from legend, from the whispers Ru once told him about forbidden powers sealed beneath the world.
Meanwhile, in the village…
The ground trembled.
Huts rattled, pottery shattered, and the people fell to their knees as the earth roared.
Then they saw it.
Far beyond the hills, rising through the torn trees — a dragon's silhouette clawing at the sky.
Gasps turned to screams.
Some villagers fell to their knees, praying desperately to forgotten gods.
Others grabbed what little they had and ran, hoping to flee the wrath of the myth reborn.
> "It's the Ancient One," someone whispered in horror.
"The Devourer of Fire... it's real!"
The elders' faces turned pale, and one muttered shakily,
> "That forest... it was sealed for a reason."
Altleno could only stare at the massive creature as its gaze fell upon him — eyes ancient, intelligent, and full of recognition.
> "You woke me, child of decay… now you must bear my fire."