"Mana is the life force that surrounds the universe—it exists for life, and for miracles."
"Magic," the book read, "has two phases: absorption and formation. You absorb mana even at the edge of the cosmos. You must feel it in all things."
As Alex read, his breath slowed… and he drifted into sleep.
Snap.
Snap...!
His eyes flicked open.
He stayed still, breathing calmly, listening. Something was outside. Still dark.
He checked the watch.
"Eleven hours of night…" he muttered.
A wolf crept toward the camp, sniffing the air.
Alex gripped his sword tightly, locking eyes with the beast. No fear—just focus.
Then—
Snap!
From behind.
He turned—hyenas. A whole pack emerging from the mist.
He activated his Battle Spirit Technique. Vapors of energy curled off his body like smoke. The sword in his hand shimmered. He lunged.
Steel sang.
One blade in the eye. Another in the ribs. He pivoted—fire ignited in his other hand. He flung the flame toward the leader and torched the rear with golden fire.
The fox watching nearby bolted. Smart.
The hyenas didn't burn—they turned to ash.
"Demonic creatures…" Alex whispered.
He packed up, chewing on burnt direwolf meat as he walked deeper into the forest. The sun was still hiding.
But then—
A roar. Deep. Ancient. Like the earth itself screamed.
Ahead—a lion.
Massive. Red, curved horn like a scimitar jutting from its head. Wings. Fire in its breath.
He backed away.
"Nope. We don't fight dragons in lion form today."
He turned, choosing another path.
The light began to return. Thirteen hours of night.
"Gotta detour far from here."
He ran with Battle Spirit for hours, finally reaching a cliff edge.
Ocean.
End of the island.
Lightning storms raged endlessly over the ocean, and the wind screamed like a curse. Anything that dared to enter—or escape—was reduced to ash.
He stared out.
"Damn ocean... that nightmare again. I'm not ready to cross that."
Then he heard it.
Roars. Screams. Bone-shattering impacts.
He turned back toward the lion's last known location.
A battlefield.
The lion was fighting off bears crackling with black lightning, and hyenas gnawing at its flesh. Two cubs already lay dead. One last cub hid behind a rock.
The lion's flames flickered.
One hyena clawed its neck while others surrounded the cub.
Alex turned away. Took a step.
Then stopped.
"Damn it. Life… always testing me."
He turned back. His grip tightened on the hilt.
He dropped into a stance—the kind he'd seen in ancient scrolls. Pure, focused, deadly.
He launched forward, slashing through a hyena in a blur of steel and fury.
He massacred the others, cutting them down in front of the dying lion.
Golden flames danced on his fingertips. He touched the bodies of the fallen—their ashes scattered in the wind.
He approached the lion. It lay on its side, heart still beating, staring at him.
Alex nodded.
"You'd rather die a warrior than fade away."
He raised his sword—
But the cub dashed out, placing its body between him and its mother, nuzzling her with a low whimper.
"Hey, brat," Alex said. "Get away. It's your mother's wish."
The lion let out a final roar of pain—a farewell. The cub, understanding, slowly backed into the shadows of the cave.
Alex knelt beside the mother, hand on her mane. He whispered a prayer. The lion, with its final breath, broke its crimson horn, offering it to him.
It fell to the ground.
Alex gently caught it. Then, with steady hands, he thrust his sword into her skull—an honorable end.
The cub howled in sorrow. Flames sparked from its small frame. It lunged at Alex, slamming into him with fire.
He didn't flinch.
"Come on, little warrior," he said softly, "It was her wish."
The cub stumbled to its mother's lifeless body, pressing its head against hers, growling low and wounded. The sound was not just sorrow — it was denial clawing its way out.
Alex stepped forward. His hand ignited with a golden flame as he knelt and gently touched the cub.
The cub didn't burn.
"Your mother... she was protecting you all this time."
The cub snarled and bit down on Alex's hand. He didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped the golden flame around his palm and allowed the magic to sink in, even as the little teeth dug deep.
Before the cub's eyes, its mother's body began to dissolve into soft golden ash.
It whimpered and clung tighter, trembling, watching her vanish. Alex held its gaze.
"Say your farewell now, little one."
As Alex turned and walked away, the cub stared at the ashes. Then, without a sound, it bit down on the lioness's broken horn and followed.
Alex noticed. He turned his head.
The cub darted behind a tree.
He chuckled. "I see you. Go back. You're gonna get me in trouble."
Snap.
Crunch.
Every twig under the cub's paws betrayed its silent pursuit.
Morning had stretched six hours long. Alex settled beneath a tree, pulled a slab of dried meat from his pack, and roasted it with a flicker of flame. The cub watched with wide eyes and an empty stomach.
He carved off a piece, lightly scorched it, and tossed it over. "Here."
After the meal, Alex checked the sun's position and headed toward the cave edges, moving through dense woods, avoiding beasts far beyond his current strength — mammoths with iron hides, saber-toothed beasts as large as bears, some black as night, others bone-white.
"Seven twenty," he muttered. "Damn it. Gotta prep."
He gathered sticks, scanning the terrain. "Stop making noise!" he snapped at the cub, which dropped a branch in panic.
He set up a camp, warmed more meat, and passed it to the cub, who devoured it hungrily. Inside the tent, he opened a book and began to read — swordsmanship theory and rune-drawn movements.
when he was immesively reading it the book
Gweroo! Gweroo!"
A high-pitched, terrified growl split through the forest.
Alex's head snapped up.
"Damn... the cub!"
He shot out of the tent, heart thundering.
There — two crimson eyes in the dark. A small red horn. It was the cub, trembling uncontrollably. He rushed to it, lifting it into his arms. Its body was shaking, fur damp with fear.
Then—
CRASH!
The sound of trees shattering ripped through the forest like thunder.
Alex whirled.
The tent was obliterated in an instant, crushed flat beneath something massive.
He looked up… slowly.
From the darkness, a monstrous, black-scaled serpent erupted — tearing through the forest like a living avalanche. Its body coiled and stretched longer than a house, each movement shaking the ground.
Its eyes burned like molten coal.
Its aura — suffocating.
"A Wyrm…" Alex whispered, stunned. "Insanely large."
Alex swept it into his arms, wrapped it in his jacket, and ducked behind a tree. He slowed his breathing, heart thudding like war drums in his ears. He willed it silent.
Then he saw them—glowing gold irises, slitted pupils like twin blades. The Wyrm hissed, crushing sleeping mammoths in its path as if they were nothing more than fallen leaves.
Then, finally... it turned, slithering off into the distance. The ground trembled with every inch it moved.
When silence returned, Alex pulled off the jacket. The cub's eyes were glassy, still shaking.
"Thanks for the warning, little warrior," he said, forcing a smile.
The cub leapt down, dropped the broken horn before Alex's feet. It began to glow.
Visions exploded behind Alex's eyes — the lioness, her final stand, blood and lightning, the same Wyrm tearing into her body. A memory embedded in the horn.
He clutched it, wrapping the jacket around it carefully. "Good job. It's too dangerous to wander now. Let's set up another tent."
He worked quickly, cutting wood, forming shelter, and motioned for the cub to come inside. It bolted in, nuzzling against his chest.
"You're pretty comfy, huh?" he chuckled, surprised. "Alright, you win."
He resumed reading, the cub's warmth beside him. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut.
Snap.
Snap.
Alex jerked awake, reaching for his blade.
A pack of wolves circled the area, hunting — not him, but a saber-tooth trying to sneak past.
Once they were gone, he scanned the area, hoisted the cub, and burned the ground they'd slept on. No scent. No trace.
He activated his battle spirit technique and sprinted, faster than the eye could follow, until he passed the scorched trail the Wyrm had left behind. He didn't stop until his lungs burned.
Then — rest.
He pulled out a piece of muscle, roasted it with a flame-wrapped hand, and shared it with the cub. The cub yawned, sleepily munching beside him.
That's when he heard it.
Water.
"Oh, hell. Running water? That'll get us killed faster than anything."
He remembered Mavrick's survival lesson.
"Listen up, kids. Poisoned water is a death sentence. Boil it or drink vapor. Worst-case scenario, drink your own piss—but vaporized!"
Alex gagged. "No way I'm doing that crap."
Instead, he dug a small trench, redirected the stream, and let it collect into a temporary pond. He dipped his flame-wrapped hand inside, purifying it until the water shimmered clean.
He filled all ten bottles.
Then he poured a little into the cub's mouth, letting it drink peacefully.
They returned to the cave.
As they approached the entrance, the cub jumped excitedly, but Alex caught it.
He threw a stone inside. Hissing.
Snakes.
The cub trembled again.
Alex unsheathed his sword and hurled a fireball into the dark. The cave lit up with a brief boom.
Thud.
Boom.
Giant footprints. The bear.
The one that killed the flame horn lioness.
Its claws crackled with lightning.