Having grown wiser over the years, the Umbral Terror had become a patient hunter.
If it had still been an iron rank beast, the panther would have struck almost immediately, its patience much more meager due to its youth. A longer life brought experience, and that experience was often the only thing between life and death in the wilderness.
That experience, gathered over the many years, told it that if it wanted the human boy to be an easy meal, the panther needed to strike fast and viciously. A quick strike would lead to an even quicker kill, and swift hunts were always better than slow ones. It could play with weak prey, but this one seemed confident. Better not take its chances.
Why would the panther not strike immediately then? It knew that it should, but the instincts of a beast were stronger than its mind—even at bronze rank. So it waited and followed its prey, waiting for the perfect moment.
The panther was hungry, and the boy walking through the forest was food—no matter how much he felt like a predator instead…
Valar continued his way through the forest, looking around in wonder. The warm summer morning combined with the clean forest air was something that he had never experienced. It was both exhilarating and nervewracking, as many new things often were.
Now that I’m free, I can explore these lands whenever I want! Beasts are supposedly roaming these forests too, so I need to be careful. Weird that I haven’t seen any, but I guess I should just be grateful for that.
He didn’t know the name of the forest, but whatever it was, he hoped it was a beautiful one. Everything from the vegetation to the high-reaching trees spoke of beauty that Valar felt deeply connected to. Every flower and every blade of grass excited him like nothing ever had. Animals and beasts, however… he saw none. Even Valar, who had grown up inside city walls for most of life, knew that wasn’t normal…
As Valar looked around the verdant forest, he sometimes noticed weird shadows moving in it. It seemed like his thoughts on beasts in the forest were making him paranoid. I need to calm down. There’s clearly no beasts roaming the forests, and I would surely spot them if there were any… right?
Valar’s footsteps quickened as he unintentionally increased his pace. While the forest was beautiful, he had an increasing feeling that something was deeply wrong. Why are there no animals? What’s happening here?
He just wanted to find a road—preferably leading to a nearby town—and follow that. Valar was tired and hurting, and as beautiful as the forest was, he wanted to find himself somewhere safe as quickly as possible.
Now that he started thinking about the shadows, some of them seemed particularly weird. They shifted unnaturally, covering areas that the sunlight was clearly hitting. Valar thought hard, trying to find out what was happening.
What could cause weird looking shadows? The clear answer would be the dark affinity, but that’s rare for us humans. If I remember correctly, it's usually used by beasts instead of sapient… Oh.
Valar took off like his life depended on it, and he was pretty sure it did…
The umbral terror stared confusedly as the small human sprinted off—the boy stumbling over branches and roots in seeming panic.
Its prey had made a catastrophic mistake. Initially, he had been fearless in his ignorance of the forest’s dangers. He had smelled confident, much like a veteran adventurer and thus a threat. Now, the small human was clearly distressed and smelled like fear. He was prey and the panther a predator. It was ready to hunt.
The panthers lithe form crouched down, its cordlike muscles bunching up, and it licked its teeth in anticipation. After all, it was a cat, and cats liked to play with their food.
As the boy got further away, it waited, giving time for the small human. The panther wanted a chase. To give little human hope of escape, then rip it away.
When he reached a good distance, still sprinting like demons of the abyss were at his heel, the panther took off.
Even though the beast loved running, it did not purr with glee like it wanted. Despite its excitement, it was still on a hunt, and hunts were to be taken at least relatively seriously. So it ran, finding itself near its prey swiftly.
It clawed at the boy, not biting his neck like it could have. That would have been too easy for the big cat, and it wanted the small human to feel more fear before his death. Flesh tasted better with a side of fear, and the boy would give the panther plenty of both...
I think I finally get why people don’t venture out of walled cities much… This is fucking awful! If the rat had been a stroke of bad luck, being an iron rank beast when he was still unawakened, this giant black cat was a total catastrophe.
As he ran, Valar accrued more and more small wounds, deliberately made to hurt and bleed but not debilitate. He could continue his stumbling run, but he was fast realizing that escape was essentially impossible. The cat was clearly playing with him, as he had already received numerous wounds near his neck, wrist and spine. Directly striking those parts would have been fatal, but the cat seemed to want to play some more before its meal.
Valar needed to figure out something and fast. He was bleeding from more places by the minute and exhaustion would take the better of him soon. Fighting the rat had been tiring as well as highly traumatic, and that had happened only an hour or two ago. His period of rest after the fight hadn’t been long enough either, not giving him a chance to truly recover his already meager strength. Strength that wouldn’t have been enough against the cat in the first place…
He needed to end the coming fight fast—a surprise attack being possibly the only option. The only question was if Valar could even call on his fire fast enough? He had felt the ability to draw it forth but hadn’t experimented with it, the promise of pain keeping him from experimenting.
Now he regretted his choice to not at least test it. Obviously the fire hurt like abyss, and Valar wanted to avoid it by all means. The cauterized wounds from the previous fight also suggested that he wasn’t immune to his own fire, which frankly sucked.
But… Valar still needed to use it. Defeating or even driving off a bronze ranked beast was a job for adventurers—armed to the teeth and at least bronze rank themselves. Valar without the abyss cursed fire was a malnourished thirteen-year-old boy with no weapons, fighting experience or magic. Honestly, his chances were slim even with the fire, but he wasn’t ready to toss his life away just yet. There was too much to see, too much to experience… If anything, the forest he was in right now proved that, and it was the first thing he saw outside the walls! He could not give up, no matter how much the only option he had would hurt…
So, I have to use it. I really hope the fire and soul tear were separate events though. If the choice is another soul tear or dying to that cat… I might actually just rather die. Flames I can take, but that soul deep pain was something else.
The mere thought of the traumatic experience made Valar lose his focus for a moment, and he stumbled against a root. He fell down and tumbled along the forest floor until his back crashed against a thick tree, his vision going blurry from the impact.
When his vision cleared, the panther was in front of him, the cold bark of the tree at his back. It was staring right at him, crouched down to his eye level. Its eyes were predatory—all playfulness gone. It considered its hunt over, and Valar’s back was against a wall, both literally and figuratively.
Fuck. “Any chance you could leave me alone? I just escaped the city and all…” Valar saw no reason to at least try, as bronze rank beasts usually had at least some level of intelligence.
As the beast pounced, only one thought manifested itself in Valar’s head. Let’s hope I don’t burn this forest down…
Perhaps bravely, but most likely stemming from tired stupidity, Valar threw a punch at the panthers head. Seeing a free meal, the big cat chomped down, its teeth burrowing into the bone under Valar’s bicep.
Valar screamed, tired and pain induced mania filling his thoughts. His mind was overwhelmed by the burning fire of his soul, making it harder to think. At least I’ll take this overgrown housecat with me!
“I really hope this will hurt you at least as much as me!”
Valar's clothes were ruined beyond repair, his body full of fresh wounds, burns and old scars. His manic grin was filled with bloody teeth and his eyes…
Valar's eyes were bloodshot, yes, but that didn’t explain the change. Normally the boys eyes were chestnut brown—now their color was orange, bordering on red. Flames danced in his eyes, instilling a strange trepidation in even the much stronger panther. It felt that something was wrong.
It tried to disengage, feeling the same instinctual fear it had before the boy had started his panicked escape. Valar wasn’t letting that happen, delirious with the pain and the day's traumatic experiences.
He flexed, grabbing hold of the panther's tongue. Cat got your tongue? If someone had heard the ensuing giggles, they would have put down the clearly demonic child right then and there.
Valar started the search deep in his inner self, finding the wound in his soul almost instantly. He followed his instincts and drew, and his soul responded to his need.
Let’s see if this is the end of my road, or if maybe, just maybe… This wall can be burned down.
Everything else vanished, the erupting fire taking all his attention. It burned just the same as when he vaporized the rat, but this time he needed the fire to do something specific. It needed to go to his hand, right in the mouth of the panther, and burn.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The fire didn’t want to be controlled. It wasn’t Valar's awakened affinity, and thus had no reason to obey him. The only thing that mattered with the flames was his very own will.
About half of the fire went towards Valar’s extended hand as the rest escaped from other places, burning everything in its path. Valar's screams intensified, but his fear and hatred for the panther drove him on, its coming death giving him relief from the pain.
As Valar felt the fire reach his hand, much slower in its movements than with the rat, he smiled brightly to the now panicked cat.
“Burn.”
Valar’s hand exploded with flame, and for the briefest moment, the panther’s eyes glowed the same color as his.
This was not the same kind of overwhelming inferno as with the rat. That had been the initial eruption of the wound—a much stronger blast capable of incinerating a beast completely—and this was only Valar’s weak draw. His willpower simply wasn’t enough to vaporize the head of a bronze rank beast, no matter how strong it was for an unawakened thirteen-year-old.
But did it even need to? It was not like he was trying to burn through the incredibly tough hide of the panther, nor was he striking at the center of its mass. The fire originating from his hand materialized inside the panther’s head, and as tough as the beast was, it could not survive a burst of fire flowing through its brain. The umbral terror was dead before it could even react.
Unfortunately, Valar’s suffering was not lessened by the beast’s sudden demise. He still had sharp teeth jammed painfully through his bicep and tricep straight to bone and partially through it, and that wasn’t even the most painful part. While the flames had burned hot inside the panther’s head, they had not only harmed Valar’s enemy, but him too. He was not immune to his own power, and his power was one that hurt a lot.
As the fire left him, Valar screamed. Everything hurt, his head felt dizzy, and he was completely spent. I guess this is it… I’m not living with these wounds. The tissue in his arm was no longer the light pink it had been just a couple of hours ago. Instead, it was a mix of deep red and pitch black, and even thinking about it hurt. He would die here, that was for sure. Still, he felt a strange kind of peace, happy that he had at least taken the beast with him. It’s time to sleep.
Valar’s eyes closed, his pulse weakening and mind soothing. It felt nice—a contrast from the harrowing experiences of the night. He accepted the feeling with an open heart, ready to see what came after he crossed the curtain and entered the afterlife, whatever it was.
He lay there bleeding, the burned beast still holding his hand within its mouth. A peaceful smile had replaced the manic grin, and the boy was ready to pass on.
His peace didn’t last for long.
Valar was shocked awake and sensation crashed back into his body. His returning pain was ignored, as he stared at the beast in front of him in confusion.
Energy flowed from the corpse of the beast, even visible to Valar’s eyes. This is… Mana? Unawakened are supposed to see it when they are about to awaken. Why am I seeing it?
The mana rushed towards Valar, but he had no time to prepare for what was to come. The mana flowed through his skin and flesh—the physical matter not able to slow its passage—and found his soul.
A surge of mana crashed against Valar’s gate. It was tightly shut and not supposed to open for years. Still, the boy had killed a much more powerful beast alone, and part of its energy belonged to the one who defeated it. The mana needed to reach his soul, and if that meant that it needed to go through his gate, the mana would slam against it until either the gate opened or it was no more..
Valar gasped, his mortal wounds irrelevant compared to the sensation in his soul. Soul deep pain was always worse, as there was no tolerance that could be built. The pain came in waves as the energy crashed against his gate, wearing down its barricades slowly but surely.
This was not supposed to happen. Awakenings happened at 17 years old, maybe 16 if you were lucky. The body of an adolescent simply wasn’t ready for the infusion of energy awakening brought, and it would open only when the time was right. The time was not right…
Tears came to Valar's eyes for the fourth time that day. The first two had been for pain endured and the third for joy. Apparently, he would be crying from pain for the third time that day.
This was something that Valar could not avoid, he was sure of it. As the mana crashed against his gate, its defenses fraying, Valar closed his eyes and balled his fists. If I just survive the coming pain, I might actually end up living! He chuckled nervously, ignoring the falsehood in his own thoughts. He had no chance to live without help and he was alone in the forest. He was free food for any old beast, as even an unawakened one could slay him easily.
I wonder what affinity I’ll get… Probably none. That was the most common result after all, and Valar didn’t feel particularly lucky at that moment. I’ve been out of the orphanage for a couple of hours at most and I’ve encountered two awakened beasts. The stars seem to hate me after all…
Valar smiled through the blinding pain as the last remaining defenses of his soul were torn down, the gate to his soul just barely cracking open. At least something about his awakening was normal, a fully open gate signifying gold rank after all.
Mana flowed out in waves, the promised euphoria mixed in with excruciating pain. Pathways carved into his body, green tinted mana filling them. So I got the life affinity. Nice.
Valar’s worn out mind reached its limits and his consciousness finally faded. The last thing he heard was a subdued “What the fuck?”
Carla was displeased with her team. This was completely understandable, as the mission they had been sent on should have been an easy one. After all, it was their first mission together—caravan journey to Lyndale excluded.
They had been sent to do rounds of the city, killing any roaming iron or bronze rank threats along the way. They had found their beasts, and that was of course good…
“Why were all the beasts lurking in the swamp?” Carla complained loudly, kicking at the dirt road her party was walking on. “I mean it’s nice that they were all there already, but now we’re all covered in mud! This robe is new and now it smells like shit!”
“Language Carla. We’re adventurers, not common bandits,” Rodrick commented.
“Our team name is fucking Cookie Sandwich! Nobody takes us seriously anyways.”
“That’s not my fault and you know it.” Rodrick turned his head, staring at Arthur, his eye twitching dangerously.
The lithe archer with blonde hair purposely ignored Rodrick's gaze, keeping his eyes on the road. Everyone was staring at him now, even Ciel displeased with the dreamy young man.
“Uhh… I think the name’s pretty goo-,” Arthur ducked his head, Ciel’s foot appearing in its place.
The golden haired young man cursed, jumping away from Ciel’s imposing form. “Relax, you abyss demon of a woman! My hair will be ruined!”
This time, The dark haired woman threw a punch instead, the fist connecting with Arthur’s stomach.
Carla started laughing, Rodrick joining in as the archer fell to his knees, groaning from pain. Arthur was infuriating at times, but getting a better archer at the start of bronze rank was practically impossible so they just endured his eccentricities instead.
Besides, they had Ciel, so Arthur would get his shit kicked in every once in a while. The man never seemed particularly pressed about it, so they all just took it in good fun. Only if he wasn’t so god damn lucky too…
Carla was interrupted from her musings when she heard Ciel speak.
“Call me an abyss demon one more time and the next hit will be on your nuts.”
Carla had to admit that Ciel was a bit scary. The woman towered over most men, only Rodrick beating her in that aspect. Dark hair, pitch black eyes and pale skin too. I kind of understand the whole abyss demon comment…
Carla would of course never say that out loud, as she didn’t want to die a painful death.
“Why are your clothes clean anyways? Everyone else got covered in mud!” Ciel’s words drew Carla's complete attention to Arthur.
Arthur rose up from his knees, his clothes clean as new if you ignored the dirt he had just gotten on his knees. He patted down at his pants, trying to get the dirt off.
“I’m good at dodging. Just don’t get hit by the mud spray next time,” Arthur commented, his grin growing as he now had to dodge punches and kicks from both women of the party.
Every punch and kick almost seemed to hit the grinning man, but missed by a hair. Both Carla and the tall rogue continued trying to hit the infuriating archer, Rodrick’s roaring laughter filling the forest.
As Carla was sure she was finally about to land a punch she tripped on Ciel’s foot, both of the young women falling on the ground and landing in a heap. They immediately started cursing at each other. Arthur’s laughter was added to Rodrick’s, as the two women tried to argue who was to blame for the fall.
“Your foot was in the way you gangly bitch!” Carla screamed.
“Oh and who's the hand to hand specialist here? Rogue or mage, huh?” Ciel threw back at Carla.
“Don’t get me started–.”
“Do you two want a hand up?” Arthur interrupted, both hands extended and smiling down at the mage and rogue.
Both women grudgingly accepted, slightly mollified by Arthur’s peace offering. Ciel still tried a quick jab, which the archer somehow managed to dodge.
Carla still threw a quick “Fuck you” to Arthur, who just grinned back at her, somehow managing to be infuriating even when he was being genuinely helpful.
“Language, Carla,” Rodrick muttered. The guard's son seemed to have that line carved deep in his mind, the city guard being a serious military force and all. “Also, speed up everyone. We’re late for the report already…”
“Who cares? We’ll get paid any-,” Arthur went silent, gazing to the east. He grabbed his bow, and rushed to the forest. “Someone’s in big trouble that way!” Arthur yelled as he increased his pace.
Better to see what he found... Everyone took off after him, following the fast moving archer through the forest.
Rodrick tried to keep up, running faster than a man his size should be able to move. Ciel and Carla moved with him, as the group was always supposed to move as a unit anyway. Carla was the only non-physical fighter, but she was also dressed lightly in a mage’s robe, so she could keep up with the rest just barely.
They soon reached Arthur, the man staring past the trees to a clearing, bow laying on the ground at his feet.
Carla and others stopped beside Arthur, looking at the confusing scene in front of them. Everyone was silent, just processing the impossibility of what they were seeing.
There was a boy, maybe 12 or 13 years old, sitting with his back against a tree. He was bleeding and full of burns. Initially, Carla wasn’t even sure if the kid was alive, but that was about to change quickly.
In front of the boy, with half his hand in its mouth, rested the corpse of a bronze rank panther. It was dead. How in the abyss is that panther dead? That shouldn’t be possible…
All of them gasped as mana started flowing out of the panther, streaming into the boy’s battered body.
No, it couldn’t be. The kid is clearly way too young-. Carla’s thought process was interrupted as green veins started growing on the boy’s body, creating a complex network of mana pathways under his skin.
He’s actually awakening? A boy that young is alone in the forest with a bronze rank beast corpse on top of him, and he’s awakening? He’s going to fucking die!
Rodrick’s booming voice filled the clearing, breaking the silence.
“What the fuck?”
