Thalen watched it, wings half-spread.

  Instinct (calm, icy):

  — It won’t last.

  One step. Then another.

  Tharion crossed the clearing, silent, determined.

  The Malh?l lifted its head, growling, gathering its last strength.

  Tharion stopped one meter away.

  Tharion (cold, emotionless voice):

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  “I’ve had enough.”

  The Malh?l leapt.

  It never reached its target.

  An invisible pressure twisted the air around it.

  The beast’s body froze, suspended in a breath.

  Then a dry, muffled crack.

  It fell heavily.

  Dead.

  Silence fell again. The forest seemed to hold its breath, afraid.

  Thalen remained motionless.

  Instinct (disturbed):

  …He erased it.

  Tharion slowly lowered his hand. His icy eyes met Thalen’s for a brief moment.

  No pride. No satisfaction. Only fatigue… and a silent threat.

  Tharion:

  “You could have finished it.”

  He paused, then added softly:

  “But not too early. You learned. You endured.”

  A cold vibration ran through Thalen. Not victory. Just silent recognition.

  Tharion:

  “You are progressing.”

  He disappeared into the shadows.

  Thalen remained alone with the forest… and the blackened body of the Malh?l.

  Thalen (inner thought, dark):

  …So this is what progressing means.

  Instinct (gentle, serious):

  Yes. And he saw it.