The first rays of dawn pierced through the dense canopy of Tempest Forest, fractured into shafts of rose, gold, and soft lavender. The forest floor, blanketed in moss and fallen leaves, seemed to glow under the early light. The air was thick and still, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and decay, a primeval reminder that this was a forest older than any memory of man.
Yet the usual symphony of life, birds chirping, small creatures rustling in the underbrush was muted, as if the forest itself were holding its breath. Rhys felt it, a low hum of anticipation vibrating in the air. His grip tightened on his spear, the polished wood smooth beneath his calloused fingers. Excitement mingled with caution as he followed his brother, Kaelen, deeper into the shadowed heart of Tempest Forest.
"Keep your wits about you, Rhys,"
Kaelen whispered, and his quiet voice hardly disturbed the silence. His gaze swept through the dense foliage, sharp and calculating.
"We aren't exactly in the friendly woods behind the village. Tempest Forest isn't forgiving."
Rhys nodded, though his pulse was thrumming with eagerness.
"I'm ready,"
He said, his voice quiet and yet firm.
Kaelen's eyes narrowed.
"Ready? Let's see if that's true when we're facing Razor Boars bigger than you've ever hunted. Their tusks aren't just for show, they'll pierce armor if you give them a chance."
He shifted his quiver, adjusting the straps.
"We stick together, we hunt smart, and we don't chase shadows. Understand?"
"Yes, brother."
Rhys said, forcing himself to appear attentive. Yet even as he spoke, a mischievous flicker of excitement danced in his eyes. The forest whispered secrets, promising hidden wonders beyond the trail, and his curiosity gnawed at him like a living thing.
The two moved in near silence, following the subtle signs of their quarry: crushed leaves, broken twigs, the faint scent of musky beasts. Sunlight wove through the towering trees, casting shifting patterns on the undergrowth. Rhys felt the thrill of the hunt rising in his chest, his youthful impatience pushing against Kaelen's steady guidance.
"I think I saw movement to the left,"
Rhys murmured, pointing towards a thick patch of ferns, still swaying despite the still morning.
Kaelen's hand fell on his shoulder.
"Rhys,"
He said, quiet but sharp.
"Stick to the plan. We find the boars together. No wandering off."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"Remember Old Man Hemlock's hound last spring? The one that disappeared in the northern glade? Tempest Forest doesn't forgive carelessness.
Rhys swallowed and nodded, though the appeal of the unknown tugged at him. His heartbeat quickened at every step deeper in the forest as each shadow and glimmer of light stirred his imagination.
Then a flash of iridescent black caught his eye behind a cluster of moss covered rocks. His hunter instincts flared. Without thinking he muttered:
"Just a quick look,"
He veered off the highway and into the woods, spear in hand. The memory of his dream haunted his mind, the spear shining bright, almost legendary, as if beckoning him through the night to great things.
Rounding the rocks, he froze. Coiled among the gnarled roots of a fallen tree was a D-rank Black Serpent. Its obsidian scales gleamed in the dappled sunlight, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. Crimson eyes fixed on him, intelligent and predatory. A low hiss vibrated through the clearing, carrying an unsettling weight of danger.
Rhys' chest tightened. This was no ordinary hunting beast. Even seasoned adventurers treated a C-rank Black Serpent with caution. Yet something primal urged him forward, a mix of fear, adrenaline, and the urge to prove himself.
Suddenly, he heard the sharp voice of Kaelen saying:
"Stick together."
But it was drowned out by the surge of adrenaline pushing Rhys toward the serpent.
"I can handle this,"
He said to himself, raising the spear.
The serpent lashed out with terrifying speed, its body uncoiling like a living whip. Rhys barely managed to sidestep, the tip of his spear scraping against its thick scales. The tail slammed into him with the force of a falling log, sending him sprawling backward into the mossy ground, breath knocked from his lungs.
The serpent loomed over him, every scale rippling with dark energy, eyes burning like embers. Rhys scrambled backward, heart pounding, realizing the truth he had ignored: he was completely outmatched.
A streak of light suddenly cut through the shadowed clearing.
"Rising Comet!"
Kaelen roared a fierce, and protective echo.
The tip of Kaelen's spear erupted in brilliant golden light, striking the serpent's side with devastating force. The creature shrieked and recoiled, massive scales scraping rocks and dirt as it turned toward the new threat. Kaelen's stance was resolute, his eyes locked on the serpent as it hissed in fury, golden mana coiling along the length of his weapon.
Rhys scrambled to his feet, with awe and relief pouring into him.
"Brother… you."
He began, breathless.
Kaelen's glare silenced him.
"What in the hell were you thinking?"
His voice was thick with rage, with a swollen concern, shaking lightly with the adrenaline of the moment.
"That was a D-rank Black Serpent! You could've gotten yourself killed! Do you even understand what's at stake?"
Rhys' ears burned.
"I… I thought I could,"
"You thought?"
Kaelen cut him off; a firm finger pointed.
"Thought?! Rhys, it's not just about courage. You need skill, control… and patience. You're lucky I was right behind you. If I hadn't been,"
His voice broke, and he let out a frustrated sigh, lowering the spear a little.
"Don't do that again. Do you hear me?"
"Yes… I hear you, brother,"
Rhys said, his voice low, swallowing pride as the adrenaline faded into shame and lingering awe.
Kaelen's eyes softened slightly as the anger gave way to relief.
"Good. Now, behind me. Stay close. That's an order."
Rhys nodded, stepping carefully beside Kaelen, spear gripped tightly. The serpent hissed, watching them, its glowing eyes a reminder that danger lingered.
The two brothers moved cautiously, circling the creature. Kaelen spoke under his breath, a teaching tone in his voice.
"See how it reacts to movement? Its senses are sharp. One wrong step and we could both be casualties. That's why you never act on impulse. Not in Tempest Forest, not ever."
Rhys nodded again, taking every word in, his eyes fixed upon the serpent.
"I see… I won't hurry the next time."
Kaelen's lips twitched in a faint, grim smile.
"Good. And remember… survival comes first. Everything else comes after. You want to be a hero? Fine, but don't get yourself killed before you learn how to survive."
The serpent, still coiled and wary, watched them like a living shadow, the hum of the forest returning gradually as tension eased slightly. But Rhys' heart still raced. The encounter had changed something in him, he felt the pull of destiny, the call of challenges greater than any boar or wolf he had faced.
Kaelen looked at his younger brother, observing those mixed feelings that signaled fear, excitement, and determination.
"Come on. We finish this hunt together. No more solo heroics."
"Yes, brother,"
Rhys answered, a new resolve settling over him.
"Together."
The forest around them sighed, the mists curling and twisting as if acknowledging the beginning of something larger, something inevitable.
Far above, Tempest Mountain loomed, its peaks still shrouded in swirling clouds.
The Silver Storm Fenrir stirred in its hidden cavern, sensing the ripple of fate set in motion below.
The threads of fate pulled tighter, and the journey had barely begun.