The night felt heavier than usual.
Leon stood alone atop the outer watchtower of Valcrest Manor, the cool wind brushing against his face as he looked toward the distant forest. The torches along the walls flickered faintly, their light barely pushing back the darkness.
Below, guards moved along their patrol routes. Farmers' homes beyond the manor had long since dimmed their lamps.
Everything appeared normal.
It was not.
Leon could feel it.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Pressure.
Subtle, distant, but real.
The armored warrior stood a few steps behind him, shield resting against the stone railing.
"You said we were observed," Leon said quietly.
"Yes."
"By something intelligent?"
"Yes."
Leon exhaled slowly.
"Human?"
"No."
That single word settled heavily between them.
Leon rested his hands on the cold stone edge of the tower and stared into the darkness. The forest had always been dangerous. That was not new.
But this felt different.
Measured.
Aware.
"How far?" Leon asked.
"Beyond current patrol reach," the warrior replied. "For now."
For now.
Leon turned.
"If it approaches, I want warning."
"You will have it."
Silence returned.
Leon remained on the tower longer than necessary, memorizing the shadows, studying the treeline. If something watched him, he would not pretend ignorance.
Eventually, he descended and returned to his chamber.
Sleep did not come easily.
At dawn, the calm shattered.
A rider approached at full speed, horse lathered with sweat, dust trailing behind him.
"Monsters!" the man shouted as he reached the gates. "Three villages near the eastern border. Destroyed."
Leon was already moving before the gates fully opened.
"What kind?" he demanded.
"Not wolves. Not boars. Something larger. Clawed. Fast."
Leon's jaw tightened.
His father emerged moments later, armor half-fastened.
"Reports?" his father asked sharply.
"Minimal survivors," the rider answered breathlessly. "Whatever attacked came at night."
Leon looked toward the forest.
Crimson eyes.
He did not wait for orders.
"I will go," he said.
His father hesitated only briefly.
"You will not go alone."
"I won't."
The armored warrior stood already prepared.
Leon mounted his horse and rode hard toward the eastern villages.
The further they traveled, the more obvious the destruction became.
Trees splintered.
Ground torn.
A farmhouse lay collapsed, claw marks raked across stone.
Leon dismounted slowly.
The smell reached him first.
Blood.
Old smoke.
He walked forward carefully.
A survivor sat near a broken well, wrapped in a blanket, eyes hollow.
"It was fast," the man whispered. "Too fast. We never saw it clearly. Only red eyes in the dark."
Leon's pulse quickened.
"How many?" he asked.
"One."
The man shook his head weakly. "Only one."
Leon turned toward the forest.
One creature had done this.
He knelt near a set of deep claw marks carved into the earth. Larger than a wolf. More deliberate than a beast acting on instinct.
"Intelligent?" Leon asked quietly.
"Yes," the armored warrior replied.
Leon stood.
"If it is intelligent, it will not stop."
He mounted again.
They rode deeper.
The forest shifted gradually, trees growing denser, light thinning.
The sensation returned.
Stronger now.
Not distant.
Present.
Leon slowed.
"Ready," he murmured.
The armored warrior stepped ahead, shield raised.
The air stilled.
Then it moved.
A blur between trees.
Too fast for ordinary eyes.
Leon barely turned in time as a massive shape lunged from the shadows.
Claws like curved blades slashed downward.
The armored warrior intercepted with his shield. The impact echoed like struck steel, forcing him back a step.
Leon saw it clearly for the first time.
Lean.
Long-limbed.
Dark fur matted along its back.
Eyes burning crimson.
Not a mindless beast.
Its gaze locked onto Leon.
Recognition flickered there.
It moved again.
Leon thrust.
The spear cut across its flank but failed to penetrate deeply. The creature twisted mid-air with unnatural agility and landed behind him.
Leon pivoted sharply, forcing distance.
It circled.
Testing.
"You are the disturbance," the creature's voice rasped faintly.
Leon's blood ran cold.
It spoke.
He did not answer.
It lunged again, faster this time.
Leon stepped into its path, angling his spear toward its throat.
The creature deflected with a claw, redirecting the shaft and nearly tearing it from his grip.
The armored warrior struck from the side, spear thrusting toward its ribs.
The creature recoiled with a snarl, eyes narrowing.
"You command the old line," it hissed.
Leon felt the words strike deeper than claws.
So it knew.
The creature vanished into the trees in a blur.
Leon did not chase.
He stood still, breathing hard.
It was testing.
Measuring.
The armored warrior stepped beside him.
"It will return," the warrior said.
"Yes."
Leon wiped sweat from his brow.
"And next time, it will not test."
He looked at his spear.
The previous fights had been physical.
This was different.
This enemy thought.
Calculated.
If one creature could destroy villages alone, more would follow.
Leon's mind worked quickly.
"We cannot wait for it to strike again," he said.
"We prepare," the warrior replied.
Leon nodded slowly.
Preparation.
Training.
Strengthening Valcrest defenses.
Expanding the line.
He looked back toward his territory.
If the creature returned stronger, he would not be alone with only one warrior.
He would not allow that.
As they rode back, the forest felt alive with quiet tension.
Far deeper within, beyond visible sight, the crimson-eyed creature paused upon a rocky ledge.
It stared toward Valcrest lands.
It had expected prey.
Instead, it had found resistance.
And resistance demanded escalation.
Behind it, shadows moved.
Others stirred.
The disturbance had awakened something older than villages.
Older than noble houses.
Older than empires.
Leon reached Valcrest Manor by dusk.
His father listened grimly as he described the encounter.
"It spoke?" his father asked quietly.
"Yes."
Silence followed.
"We must request imperial support," his father said.
"Not yet," Leon replied firmly.
His father looked at him sharply.
"If we appear weak, Ferrowyn and others will circle. We prepare first. Strengthen the guard. Expand patrol routes. Quietly."
His father studied him.
"You are thinking beyond a single beast."
Leon nodded.
"It called me a disturbance."
That word lingered heavily in the room.
His father finally sighed.
"Very well. We prepare."
That night, Leon stood once more beneath the open sky.
The armored warrior waited.
"How do I increase capacity?" Leon asked.
"Survive what comes," the warrior answered.
Leon tightened his grip on the spear.
Then he began practicing again.
Each thrust now carried urgency.
Each correction sharper.
The system remained quiet.
It would not save him.
It would only acknowledge growth.
Deep in the forest, crimson eyes multiplied.
The hunt had ended.
The war had begun.