The wind screamed between the jagged ridges of the Frostveil Mountains, scattering flurries of snow into swirling white curtains.
Beneath that veil, the scent of predators hung thick.
Somewhere far off, the deep, bone-rattling bellow of an unseen beast rolled through the peaks. Ryujin had learned long ago to read the mountains' voice. Right now, it was telling him he was being hunted.
He crouched low behind a blackstone outcropt, breath fogging in the freezing air. Nox crouched beside him, molten eyes scanning the ravine's upper ledges, nostrils flaring.
Crimson lingered behind, the young drake's ember-lit scales steaming with each breath, tail tip twitching.
They'd been shadowed for the past two days. Not clumsily, not the way common bounty scum tracked.
This was surgical. Coordinated. Every time he shifted path, they were there again, almost like a shadow. Always just outside sight, always upwind.
The Emerald Fangs.
Ryujin's jaw tightened. His knowledge was part of the privileges of being born a noble. He'd heard whispers about them as a boy.
Halveth's personal hunting cadre; twelve elite tamers, each with beasts that could gut a lesser knight in seconds. This wasn't like Valtheris, a single assassin with ghostlike precision.
This was a pack; coordinated, relentless, and built to break monsters. And tonight, he was their quarry.
At first, his intention was to enter the Dragon lair, and get more battle experience from a clash against a powerful Dragon that would surely push him deeper in his progression to D-Rank.
But common sense held him back. His enemies were too close, fighting a theoretical A-Rank Dragon only to meet the Emerald Fangs if he survived was suicide.
And so, he decided to wait for them.
The crunch of snow under claw came faintly from the east ridge. Crimson's head shot toward the sound, lips curling in a silent snarl. Ryujin placed a hand on the drake's neck, steadying him.
"Not yet," he murmured.
Nox's gaze flicked to him, and through the bond Ryujin caught the faint echo of impatience; the urge to lunge, to tear into whatever dared stalk them.
He swallowed it down. They couldn't win this fight in the open.
And then…
Bzzz!
A faint shimmer of movement on the ridge, then gone.
Ryujin narrowed his eyes. The snow swallowed everything here, turning shadows into tricks, but Ryujin's gut knew better. His father wouldn't send amateurs, not after he survived Valtheris.
…
Draeven's POV…
Draven Kaul, Captain of the Emerald Fangs, watched the pass from atop his war serpent, Voryth. The beast was a Steelspine Serpent, plated in emerald chitin, its massive coils half-buried in the snow.
From this vantage, the captain could see the faint indentations of drake tracks heading toward the Frostgrave Hollow.
"He's making for the north ravine," Draeven said, his voice a low rumble. "Standard net formation. Block the mouth".
Six hunters peeled away, their mounts- basilisk hounds and frost wyrmlings moving like blurs between snowbanks. The rest shifted position, corraling the prey.
"Remember," Draeven growled into his comm-rune, "we take him breathing if we can. The beasts die".
A chorus of acknowledgements crackled back.
…
Ryujin's muscles coiled.
The bond with Nox was pulsing hot now, warning him. They were closing fast. Crimson shifted from foot to foot, tail lashing.
"Alright," Ryujin whispered, "we give them one bite, then run".
The first hunter emerged from the snow haze ahead; a lithe man in frostscale mail astride a basilisk wolf, the beast's six eyes glowing red. Its claws tore through the snow as it lunged.
Ryujin reacted as soon as the first hunter came into view.
He stepped into motion before the rider could raise his spear. Nox's shadowflame flared, a black and scarlet gout of fire and darkness that blasted across the path.
The basilisk shrieked and veered, its armor hissing as frost melted into steam.
Crimson roared and lunged from the side, his tail smashing into the beast's flank, sending both mount and rider tumbling into the drift.
But they had no time to finish them; more shapes were already closing in through the storm.
Thud… thud… thud…
The second wave came from the left ridge; two riders on frost wyrmlings, wings snapping open as they descended in a spiral dive.
Spears tipped with froststeel glinted as they leveled at Ryujin's head.
"Down!" he barked.
Nox leapt sideways, snow exploding under his claws. Crimson exhaled a spray of ember fire, catching one wyrmling in the wing.
The creature screeched and crashed into the snowbank.
The second rider came through clean. Ryujin rolled, feeling the spear's edge slice air where his neck had been. He stabbed upward with his short spear, catching the wyrmling in the shoulder joint.
It screamed, bucking its rider.
He didn't wait to see them land. They were seconds from being surrounded.
At that moment, Draeven's voice carried from the ridge. "He's running out of ground. Push him north!"
The hunters tightened the circle. Ryujin felt it, the closing jaws of the serpent.
Only one path remained.
He turned to the looming ice maw of Frostgrave Hollow. The air that poured from it was colder than the mountain wind, heavy with the metallic tang of blood and something older… something that whispered leave in a voice older than men.
The system's warning from before echoed in his head. 'Survival chance is below 30%'.
Better than the zero waiting behind him.
He met Nox's eyes, then Crimson's. "We go in".
A ripple of agreement shivered through the bonds. And immediately, they broke for the entrance, snow exploding in their wake.
Shouts rose from the hunters, but none followed. Even the beasts balked at the Hollow's breath.
Ryujin didn't look back. The darkness swallowed them whole.
…
Inside, the temperature dropped like a blade through flesh. The walls were jagged ice, reflecting distorted version of themselves in the flickering light of Nox's shadowflame.
Every sound, every claw scrape, every breath echoed too far, as if the Hollow itself were listening.
Then came the roar.
It wasn't the cry of a beast defending territory. It was a declaration, a promise of death to intruders.
Nox's hackles rose. Crimson froze, eyes wide, tail rigid.
Ryujin gripped his spear tighter, heart hammering. "Wyvern," he breathed.
The sound came again, closer.
Somewhere deep in the Hollow, something vast began to move.