Arthur's gaze locked onto the source of the sound: a dark green bush, a patch of matted gray fur just visible within its depths.
He moved slowly, cautiously, sword held at the ready. His supply pack hit the soft earth with a muffled thud, thrown away to free his movements.
Bark!
A gray flash erupted from the foliage, leaping straight for him. Instinct took over. Arthur's feet moved, a burst of speed carrying him to the side as the creature soared past.
A familiar warmth coursed through his veins, mana surging to strengthen his muscles, sharpen his senses. The world seemed to slow for a fraction of a second. The gray flash resolved into a clear image: a lean, powerfully built wolf with eyes like burning coals.
"A Dire Wolf!" Arthur registered, his mind racing. "Need to end this fast." He kept moving, circling.
The wolf, recovering quickly, darted again. Its silver-gray fur rippled with muscle as it bounded towards him, those two crimson dots of its eyes fixed solely on Arthur. He brought his sword up, bracing for impact.
"Iron Veil!"
Instantly, mana flooded his skin, hardening it like stone. He gripped his sword tight as the dire wolf's fangs clashed against the steel with a clang.
The moment of impact sent both combatants staggering back a few paces. Without wasting a heartbeat, Arthur lunged.
"Mana Step!"
In a blink, mana rushed to his feet, and he reappeared at the wolf's exposed flank.
He thrust his sword, aiming for the vulnerable hide. But the beast was preternaturally quick; it twisted, and the blade merely skittered across its ribs, drawing a shallow line of red.
"Close," Arthur muttered under his breath. "They weren't joking when they said we'd need a party." If he'd had a team, a Dire Wolf would be manageable. One to tank, another to flank, a conjurer to exploit openings. Alone, he was both shield and spear.
The streak of red on the wolf's fur was already darkening. It wasn't a deep wound, but it was blood.
"Piercing Lunge!"
Arthur exploded forward, mana flowing from his core, down his arms, and into the blade, empowering the strike as he closed the distance.
Awooooo!
The wolf howled, a sound of pain and fury, as it leaped back, trying to disengage.
"Damn it. Too quick again," Arthur cursed, his eyes never leaving his target. He twirled his sword, advancing slowly. The scratch had only enraged the beast. It gathered itself and launched forward once more, a gray blur of teeth and claws.
Seeing it charge in a straight line, Arthur smirked. He stood his ground, seemingly unmoving. The wolf was mere inches from him when, with deceptive suddenness, Arthur moved.
Mana previously fortifying his skin now blazed into his limbs. His figure flickered.
The wolf, unable to halt its momentum, snapped its jaws on empty air where Arthur had been a split-second before. Before it could even skid to a halt, a searing pain shot through its abdomen.
AwooooOOOO!
The howl was sharper this time. Arthur had driven his sword deep into its side.
"Gods, that howl," Arthur hissed, glancing around nervously. "Now I really have to make this quick."
Wounded and bleeding, the wolf couldn't retreat in time. Arthur, seizing the opening, brought his sword down in a vicious arc, aiming for its thick neck. The blade bit deep. The dire wolf thrashed, still alive despite the grievous wound. Arthur pinned its head with his boot, then plunged his sword point between its glowing red eyes, ending it instantly.
A moment later, a small, dull gray crystal materialized from the dissipating magical energy of the beast. He snatched it, pocketed it, and retrieved his sword.
Without a backward glance at the fallen wolf, he grabbed his supplies and sprinted deeper into the woods, fleeing the scene of the kill. The scent of blood would draw unwanted attention.
He ran east, noticing the trees gradually thinning. Spotting a relatively easy to scale, sturdy-looking tree, he slung his pack higher and began to climb for higher ground.
AWOOOOOOOOOOO!
A loud, resonant howl echoed through the forest, far more powerful than that of the dire wolf. It sent a shiver down Arthur's spine. This was different. This was primal.
"A magical beast," Arthur breathed, a grim smile touching his lips as he continued his ascent. "So the dire wolf had a pack leader. Good thing I didn't stick around."
Luckily, the trees in this area were shorter, less imposing than the ancient sentinels guarding the forest entrance.
Reaching the upper branches, he finally got a panoramic view. A vast, undulating sea of green stretched in every direction. Far to the west, he could just make out the dark line of the cliffs that bordered his home city. To the north, the distant smudge of Eldermoor itself. But beyond that, only endless forest.
The Eldermoor Great Forest. One of the largest magical beast ranges in the entire Caelorian Kingdom. He knew the cliffs to the west stretched for leagues, a natural border between Caeloria and the wild lands of Tharion.
Turning his attention back to his immediate surroundings, he saw the canopy here was less dense, with small clearings and game trails visible below.
He pulled out a worn notebook and a piece of charcoal, quickly sketching a rough map of the terrain, marking potential water sources and defensible positions. He stowed it away.
"Alright then," he mused, scanning the area below. "The organized teams will be fighting over the prime spots near the known resources. This little grove here…" He eyed a secluded cluster of trees nestled in a shallow depression. "Far enough from the main entry, and I've got a head start. Competition should be minimal."
He descended quickly and made his way to the grove. Leaning against a broad tree trunk, he took a long sip of water from his canteen.
"What next?"
Suddenly, his head snapped up. His ears, still sharp from the lingering effects of his mana enhancement, caught a faint sound. Then he saw it: a dark smear of blood on the leaves of a nearby bush. Fresh.
Sword instantly in hand, he moved towards it. The blood trail, intermittent but clear, led him towards another small opening a few hundred meters away.
Rustle.
The sound came from directly behind a thicket to his right. Arthur spun, dropping into a defensive stance, sword poised.
"Wait! Wait! Don't attack! I'm a student!" A panicked shriek, followed by two hands thrusting above the bush, waving frantically. The sleeves were white and crimson. Highcrest Academy.
A moment later, a girl stumbled out, her eyes wide with terror, hands trembling. She had short, practical brown hair, and her uniform was sharp white with crimson patterns decking it.
"What happened?" Arthur asked, lowering his sword slightly but keeping his guard up. "You don't look injured." The girl didn't seem to have been in a fight, which made the blood trail even more puzzling.
"M-my team," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I went to scout ahead… for a safer campsite. When I came back… an instructor was there. He… he told me the rest of my team was… eliminated." Her lip quivered.
"I'm Arthur," he said, offering a small, reassuring smile.
"L-Liora." She tried to return the smile, but it was a watery, stressed thing. "I'm a Conjurer." The fear was still stark in her eyes.
"Do you know what attacked them? Was it a magical beast?" Arthur pressed, trying to gauge the level of danger.
Liora shook her head, tears welling. "I don't know. The instructor… he wouldn't tell me. He just said I had to either find out for myself or get back to the edge of the training zone."
"Of course they did," Arthur muttered. Standard procedure for this kind of training – harsh, but effective. He scanned the area again. The blood trail was clear, but there were surprisingly few signs of a major struggle. A few scuff marks on the trees, some broken branches, but nothing that screamed 'battle to the death.' Even his brief fight with the dire wolf had left more of a mess.
"How many in your team?"
"Four of us," Liora replied. "Two Augmenters, myself, and another Conjurer. No Knights or Bishops."
Arthur nodded slowly, his mind piecing things together. Three students, including two Augmenters, taken out so cleanly that a nearby scout heard nothing and the scene was relatively undisturbed? That spoke of something fast, powerful, or incredibly stealthy.
"You should head back towards the forest entrance," Arthur advised, his gaze already drifting towards the faint tracks leading away from the blood. "Your team is gone. It's not safe for you here alone, especially if you don't know what you're up against."
"But… but you're alone too…" Liora's voice was small, hesitant, as Arthur turned away from her, his attention captivated by the scene of the attack.
He paused. She was right. He was alone. And whatever did this to her team was still out there. A flicker of something – caution, perhaps – warred with a rising tide of curiosity and a familiar, reckless thrill. A beast capable of such efficiency…
He glanced back at Liora, then towards the almost invisible trail. A faint, almost predatory smile touched his lips. "Maybe," he said softly, more to himself than to her. "But then again… why not find out just what we're dealing with?"
Without another word, he turned and broke into a run, the mystery of the silent predator pulling him deeper into the unknown.