Golden Savanna Expanse — Wolf-Fang Territory
Approach to the Ridge Village
The wolf-kin hunters moved with the grace of born predators. Not a single footstep was wasted, every movement precise, silent despite the open plains. Raygen and Asa followed at a steady pace, falling into rhythm without effort.
The grass brushed at their legs, glowing faintly with drifting mana pollen. Strange insects hummed in the distance—crystal-winged things that shimmered in the sunlight like shards of glass.
Asa leaned toward Raygen and whispered, "You sure walking into a beastkin camp isn't a terrible idea?"
Raygen kept his eyes forward.
"If it was, they would've attacked instead of showing their backs."
"Or maybe they're leading us to a place with more backup."
Raygen didn't blink.
"Then there'd be even more of a reason to go."
Asa stared at him. "You do realize you keep saying things that make you sound like an apex predator pretending to be a teenager, right?"
Raygen said nothing.
He didn't have to.
He saw the hunters' ears flicking, picking up scraps of Asa's voice—but their eyes always returned to him.
Measuring.
Evaluating.
Respecting.
Not out of kindness.
Out of recognition.
Strength spoke the same language in every world.
---
The Ridge Village
They crested the hill.
The sight below almost stole Asa's breath.
A sprawling village of packed earth and carved stone sprawled in a crescent around an oasis-fed lake. Animal-hide tents and wooden halls stood beside towering bone totems carved from the massive skulls of long-extinct beasts. Smoke rose from communal fire pits. Children with wolf ears splashed in the water while armored warriors sharpened obsidian-edged axes.
The air vibrated with mana—raw, wild, unfiltered.
Raygen's senses throbbed in response, the system inside him humming like something ancient had finally found familiar ground.
A group of elders emerged from the largest longhouse as the hunters approached. Their pelts were thicker, their eyes fiercer—wolf-kin in their prime or past it, with power radiating from every controlled breath.
The lead elder's fur was silver streaked with black. One eye clouded white. Scars laced his arms like history written in flesh.
He stepped forward.
The hunters kneeled.
Raygen did not.
He didn't challenge.
He didn't bow.
He simply stood, calm and grounded, meeting the elder's gaze as an equal.
The elder's one good eye narrowed thoughtfully.
"Hrrm." His voice was gravel. He looked from Raygen to Asa. "Strangers. Not of the tribes. Not of the beastlands. You smell of steel and sky… and something else."
He sniffed lightly—wolf instincts reading mana signatures the way humans read expressions.
"…danger."
Asa froze, but Raygen didn't flinch.
The elder's lips curled—not quite a smile, not quite a threat.
"You walked into our land with no fear. You face the Wolf-Fang without trembling. Good."
He thumped his chest.
"I am Elder Kha'ven, Fang of the South Wind."
Raygen inclined his head—polite, but not deferential.
"Raygen."
Asa followed. "Asa."
Kha'ven grunted. "The hunters bring two strangers who might be fools or might be warborn. We will judge which."
Asa muttered, "Always fun being judged by giant wolf-people."
Two nearby wolf pups yipped, and Asa's heart instantly melted.
"Okay never mind, they're adorable."
Raygen ignored her, the faintest twitch betraying he heard.
Kha'ven gestured to the longhouse. "Come. You are not prisoners. Not guests either. But we will speak."
---
Inside the Longhouse
The interior was huge, lit by glowstones and fire pits. Furs covered the floor. Massive spears decorated the walls. Meat roasted on spits, and the smell was intoxicating after a day of battle.
Raygen scanned everything automatically—entries, exits, weapon counts, mana signatures.
Asa whispered, "You do that in every room?"
"Yes."
"You're terrifying."
He didn't deny it.
The elders seated themselves around a central fire. Raygen and Asa were given a woven mat across from them.
Kha'ven leaned forward.
"You carry no tribe scent. No land scent. You are not from any of the kingdoms on this continent. Not from the distant foxlands, nor the eagle peaks, nor the serpent valleys. Not even from the human kingdom of Drakmore in the far north."
His eye gleamed.
"So where are you from?"
Raygen held his gaze.
"…far away."
The room went silent.
Beastkin hated lies—but they respected boundaries even more. Raygen wasn't evasive. He was simply resolute.
An elder with brown fur and three braids huffed. "You speak simply. Directly. You smell of truth." She studied Asa. "Your companion… smells of knives."
Asa grinned proudly. "Thanks."
"That was not praise, cub."
Raygen spoke evenly. "We don't wish conflict. We only wish to train, learn, and survive."
"And why come here?" another elder asked. "Why walk into Wolf-Fang territory, where even kings tread lightly?"
Raygen answered without hesitation.
"Because there is strength here."
The crackle of the fire deepened.
"And strength seeks strength."
Silence again—long, heavy.
Then Kha'ven's lips peeled back, revealing wolfish fangs in something that was unmistakably approval.
"You speak like a warrior."
Raygen's posture didn't shift. "I aim to be one."
Elder Kha'ven nodded. "Very well."
---
Beastkin Power System — "The Three Paths"
Kha'ven gestured to the fire.
"In our world, power is shaped by the land. Humans use magic veins and academies. Elves cling to ancient trees. Dwarves forge strength from stone."
He tapped his chest.
"But beastkin follow the Three Paths."
The fire surged, responding to mana.
"Fang. Claw. Spirit."
Raygen's eyes narrowed slightly.
Asa leaned forward, fascinated.
Kha'ven pointed to three carvings behind him.
A wolf's jawbone for Fang.
A raptor's talon for Claw.
A glowing crystal orb for Spirit.
"The Path of Fang is for warriors—those who hone body and instinct. Physical might, speed, resilience."
A younger elder flexed—muscles rippling like coiled steel.
"The Path of Claw is for hunters—stalkers, assassins, trackers. Precision, stealth, killing strikes."
Asa perked instantly. "I like this path."
Raygen didn't even look at her. "You would."
"And then," Kha'ven continued, "the most difficult—Path of Spirit. Communion with the world's mana. Bonding with ancestral echoes. Magic born from instinct rather than language."
A young wolf-kin produced a floating orb of water shaped like a wolf head—detailed, alive, swirling with mana.
Asa smacked Raygen's arm. "That's so cool—"
"It is."
He said it quietly, acknowledging, eyes sharp with interest.
Kha'ven watched Raygen closely.
"You wish to learn our strength."
"Yes."
"As an outsider?"
"Yes."
"You expect us to give it freely?"
Raygen finally broke his stoic stillness.
A small shake of the head.
"No."
Kha'ven's brows rose. "Then what do you offer?"
Raygen met his gaze without apology.
"Effort."
A pulse went through the elders.
"To learn your ways, I offer my effort. My discipline. My strength. My resolve."
The fire crackled violently, reacting to Raygen's mana.
"You may teach or not teach," he continued. "But I will walk the path regardless. I don't expect your approval. I only aim to earn it."
A long silence.
Then Kha'ven threw back his head and barked a deep, rumbling laugh.
"WELL SPOKEN, STEEL-CUB!"
Raygen remained still.
Asa threw her hands up. "Oh come on—he gets praise for being a quiet badass and I get 'you smell like knives'?"
"You smell strongly," another elder muttered.
Asa glared. Raygen's shoulder rose in the faintest shrug.
Kha'ven leaned forward.
"I will test you."
Raygen nodded without hesitation.
"Now."
Asa jerked. "Wait what now—"
The elder slammed his palm into the earth.
The ground cracked.
Mana surged.
A circle formed beneath Raygen—etched in glowing lines of crimson, gold, and azure.
Asa jumped back. "Raygen—!"
But he did not move.
Not a muscle.
The energy rose around him like a storm.
Kha'ven's voice boomed.
"THE FIRST TEST OF FANG—FEARLESSNESS BEFORE SPIRIT!"
A spectral wolf—massive, ethereal, its eyes twin moons—emerged from the circle. Its jaws opened in a silent snarl as it lunged.
Asa screamed, "RAY—"
Raygen stepped forward.
Not away.
Forward.
He raised a hand and placed it calmly against the spirit's muzzle as it snapped down.
The entire longhouse froze.
The wolf paused… confused… then pressed its enormous head against his palm.
Raygen's voice was steady.
"I don't fear you."
The spirit dissolved—flowing into his arm like warm breath on a winter day.
The fire dimmed.
The circle vanished.
Kha'ven stared, stunned.
"…The spirit accepted you."
Raygen lowered his hand.
No emotion.
No boasting.
Asa exhaled explosively. "Okay I'm officially done trying to predict you."
Kha'ven stood, towering over them, but there was no threat—only newfound respect.
"Raygen Steel-Cub. Asa Knife-Cub." He struck his chest. "You will stay with us. Train with us. Learn the paths."
Asa punched the air. "YES—"
Raygen bowed his head slightly. "We accept."
Kha'ven smiled a predator's smile.
"Good. Because danger moves across the beastlands. Something stirs in the east. And your arrival… may not be coincidence."
Raygen's eyes darkened.
Asa crossed her arms. "Coincidence in our lives died the second Alac blinked us here."
The elders looked at one another.
"…Alac?" Kha'ven repeated.
Raygen opened his mouth—
But a thunderclap split the sky.
A streak of silent lightning arced across the clouds.
The elders jolted upright.
"That omen—!"
Kha'ven growled deeply.
"It is beginning again…"
Raygen's heart steadied.
Asa tightened her grip on her daggers.
And far above, unseen, Alac watched with eyes like storms waiting to break.
-End of Chapter 14-