Rin stood alone in the clearing, the bodies of the lesser Wendigos already cooling at his feet. Steam rose from their wounds, vanishing into the mist that clung to the trees. He could still hear it — the slow, deliberate scrape of something massive moving through the frost.
He flexed his hand on his sword hilt, breath steady. "Come on, then," he muttered. "Don't keep me waiting."
---
A branch snapped to his right — sharp and deliberate.
Then silence.
Then another snap.
Rin turned slowly, eyes narrowing as he scanned the tree line. The forest itself seemed to shudder as a shadow peeled away from it — tall, distorted, and crawling forward on its knuckles.
The Wendigo stepped into the moonlight.
It was huge — easily seven feet, its form stretched thin and wiry. Skin clung tight to sinew, the ribs sharp enough to cut glass. From its head jutted a tangled rack of antlers, one broken, the other smeared with dark blood.
Its eyes gleamed a sickly pale blue — not mindless hunger, but awareness.
Rin's lips curled into a half-smile.
"You're not like the others… are you?"
The Wendigo tilted its head, jaw clicking as it mimicked a breath — like it was trying to imitate humanity and failing miserably.
Then, it lunged.
---
Rin moved first — his sword flashing up to meet it, steel ringing against claw. The impact shuddered through his arm, sparks scattering into the snow. The creature's strength was immense — almost enough to numb his grip.
He twisted, pivoting on one heel, and slashed across its chest. The blow landed — clean — but instead of recoiling, the Wendigo grabbed the blade mid-swing.
Its flesh sizzled. It didn't care.
With a roar, it hurled Rin backward through a half-rotted tree. The trunk splintered with a deafening crack. Rin landed hard, coughing blood, but he was already smiling as he pushed himself up.
"Heh… not bad."
---
The Wendigo came again — fast now, unnervingly so for its size. Each step dug deep trenches into the snow, claws scraping frost and bark as it moved on all fours. It leapt from a ridge, crashing down with such force the ground caved slightly under its weight.
Rin ducked the first swing — barely — then countered with a short, snapping cut. His blade bit into its shoulder, severing muscle. The beast howled, twisting away — a spray of black ichor painting the trees.
Rin exhaled slowly, steam trailing from his lips.
"Alright… no holding back."
---
He lowered his stance. Energy rippled along his sword — faint at first, then pulsing in waves that distorted the air around it. The next movement came like a thunderclap.
Explosive Burst — Second Form: Flash Rend.
The strike ignited the snow beneath his feet. The Wendigo barely saw him move — just a streak of light and force slamming through its torso. The explosion of compressed air split a nearby tree clean in half.
The Wendigo reeled, clutching its side — and laughed.
A low, guttural, almost human laugh.
Rin froze for half a second. "You've gotta be kidding me."
The thing raised its head — and spoke, voice strangled and wrong:
"...Hunter…"
The sound sent a chill crawling up Rin's spine. Not fear — disgust. It remembered them. It knew who they were.
---
The beast moved differently now — no longer reckless. It circled him, testing. Every lunge was followed by retreat. It was learning his rhythm.
Rin's teeth clenched.
"Smart bastard, huh?"
He leapt forward, using a broken log as a step, flipping overhead to bring his sword down in a brutal overhead arc. The Wendigo intercepted mid-air — its claw caught the blade's edge again, but this time Rin twisted the hilt, releasing a secondary charge.
A shockwave burst outward — snow exploding in a wide circle.
The Wendigo stumbled back, but before Rin could follow up, its tail — thin and bone-spined — lashed out, catching his ribs. He grunted, the hit sending him rolling through the snow, skidding against a frozen trunk.
For a moment, his vision blurred red. His side burned.
He wiped the blood from his mouth, grinning weakly.
"Okay… that hurt."
---
The Wendigo didn't press. It stood still, chest heaving. Watching him.
Rin rose slowly, sword dragging against the ground — sparks trailing behind.
"You've got power. But I've got purpose."
He flicked the blade upward, scattering the snow.
Both hunter and beast tensed — one breath between them, hanging like frost in the air.
The Wendigo growled, the sound rumbling through the clearing.
Rin smirked, eyes glinting.
"Let's finish this."
They charged at each other — claws and steel clashing in a shower of snow and sparks.
The forest trembled with every blow.
Each movement a blur of instinct — fury meeting precision.
As the blizzard swallowed their shapes whole, only the echo of metal and roaring filled the void.