Chapter 5: Into the Maw
The morning after Kaze's escape was grim. The villagers gathered in silence around the square, torches burning low, their faces drawn and pale. The sun had risen, but no one dared call it a new day. It felt more like the end of something.
Elder Ronen stood before them, staff in hand, her voice as sharp as the chill in the air. "We can no longer hide behind fear. That thing is no animal. It took our children. It tried to kill one of our own. Today, we take the fight to it."
Volunteers stepped forward—hunters, guards, even a few older villagers with basic combat skills. Among them were Kaze and Atlas, standing side by side, their expressions hardened by what they had seen.
"I'm going too," Atlas said quietly. "I'm not letting it take anyone else."
Kaze nodded. "This ends tonight."
Elder Ronen didn't stop them. She knew she'd need every bit of power she could muster.
By midday, a force of fifteen men and women, led by Ronen, moved into the forest. Kaze and Atlas walked near the front, alert, their senses honed. Atlas kept his hand close to his focus stone, the source of his Soul Magic. Kaze's eyes scanned every tree, every shifting shadow.
They found the trail easily enough—crushed branches, deep claw marks in the soil, and that faint green glow lingering in the leaves.
Then the attack came.
It struck from the trees—fast, brutal. Not one beast, but two.
The creatures were barely stable, their forms twitching with unnatural movement. One had arms that extended like tendrils; the other had bone blades growing from its shoulders.
The first to die was Bren, a young hunter who barely had time to scream before a talon ripped through his chest. Another villager, Maerin, tried to shield him with a blast of fire—but she was tackled to the ground, her flames extinguished by a spray of sickly magic.
Kaze yelled and flung out a blade of wind, cleaving one of the creatures across the side. It stumbled, howling, and turned toward him.
Atlas stepped up, summoning a pulse of silver light. "Soul Bind!"
Chains of light shot from the ground and wrapped around the beast's limbs, slowing it. Kaze struck again, this time with more precision, cutting through its warped head.
The second creature was tougher. It adapted mid-battle, sprouting new limbs, redirecting attacks. Two more fighters fell—Hern and Tavik—both brave, both overpowered.
"We can't keep this up!" Atlas shouted, his voice strained.
"I've got one shot left!" Kaze yelled back. He took a deep breath, focused his energy, and whispered: "Gale Burst."
A torrent of compressed wind exploded outward, hitting the beast square in the chest and sending it crashing through several trees. It didn't rise again.
The silence afterward was unbearable. Four villagers lay dead. Blood soaked the leaves. The survivors stood in quiet grief—but Kaze, catching his breath, narrowed his eyes.
The green glow was still ahead. A trail.
Atlas stepped beside him, clenching his fists. "They didn't die for nothing. We finish this."
The remaining group followed the trail deeper into the forest, until they found it—a crumbling stone structure, half-buried in vines and shadow. A ruin from the old wars, long forgotten.
Inside, the air was thick with decay and the hum of unstable magic. Arcane symbols pulsed across the stone floor. A series of broken cages lined the walls—each large enough to hold something monstrous.
Then they heard the voice.
"Well done. You survived longer than I expected."
A man stepped into view from the far end of the chamber, draped in a tattered cloak. His face was pale, marked with black veins. His eyes glowed the same sickly green as the beasts.
"I was curious how long it would take someone to find me."
Elder Ronen stepped forward, staff raised. "Who are you?"
The man smiled. "Just a scholar of truth. A student of what your people call forbidden."
Atlas felt the sting of power behind those words. He reached into the air with his soul. "That magic—it's artificial. It's stitched together."
The man turned to him. "Ah, a Soul Mage. Rare. You understand then. This isn't just magic. It's evolution."
"You took children," Atlas said coldly.
"To test compatibility," the man replied, unfazed. "Sadly, none of them survived the bonding."
Kaze's eyes widened. "You killed them?"
The man sneered. "They were weak. The strong endure."
Rage exploded in Kaze's chest, and he charged. The man flicked his hand, and a blast of dark magic shot forward. Atlas intercepted it with a shield of soul energy, deflecting it just in time.
Ronen signaled the others. "He's unstable—take him down!"
The battle erupted. The creator fought with a blend of Blood Magic and dark spellcraft, twisting the air with corrupted sigils. But Atlas stayed focused, tracing the soul threads tied to the beast's creation.
"I've found it!" he shouted. "He's bound to the creatures—if we break the tether, we can sever his power!"
Kaze launched forward, blades of wind spiraling around him. "Then let's cut it loose!"
Atlas drew on his full strength. "Soul Extraction!"
A silver beam shot from his focus, piercing into the creator's chest. The man screamed as the corrupted magic unraveled—exposing the raw, malformed energy that bound the creatures to his life force.
Kaze struck it with all he had.
Wind met soul. Light met darkness.
The tether snapped.
The chamber exploded in silence as the residual energy collapsed. The man staggered, falling to his knees.
Elder Ronen stepped forward. "You're done."
But the man only smiled, blood running from his mouth. "No… I'm only the first."
He died before he could explain.