All sounds of the forest vanished.
Birds silenced. Leaves stopped rustling. Even the breeze seed to hold its breath.
Ethan couldn't hear a thing—and even if he could, it wouldn't matter. His focus wasn't on the eerie stillness or the blood dripping from his side.
All that existed now was the beast standing before him.
It was no longer just a fight. It was a final standoff.
The pain in his chest dulled, fading into a distant ache as his mind sharpened like a blade drawn across stone. Sothing inside him stirred. Shifted.
It wasn't adrenaline. It was clarity. His senses heightened, his thoughts focused, and for the first ti, he felt sothing alien… and yet utterly familiar.
Complete control.
Every fiber of his being moved in sync. Every breath felt asured. Every heartbeat purposeful.
Yet Ethan didn't even notice the change.
Because every ounce of his attention was locked onto the growling creature ten paces away.
Everything else—his wounds, his fear, his exhaustion—ant nothing.
The beast snarled, muscles tense, fur bristling. But then… it hesitated.
It took a step back.
Just one.
Barely more than a shuffle.
But it was enough. Enough to show uncertainty.
The mont passed as quickly as it ca.
Realizing what it had done, the beast roared in fury and stepped forward again—its body beginning to dissolve into shadows.
Ethan didn't flinch.
He'd seen this before.
And he understood. It was hiding. Not running—preparing to strike.
His eyes scanned the area.
The sun hung high above. It should've helped. The clearing he stood in was bathed in light, but the trees surrounding him cast long, warped shadows that clung to the earth like snakes.
Then, a flicker.
One shadow darkened for a split second… then returned to normal.
Sothing had passed through it.
Ethan's breath caught.
That's how it moves. Through shadows.
He looked around. Carefully now.
So shadows subtly shifted—darkening, then lightening. It was faint, almost unnoticeable. But it was enough. Enough for him to understand.
He activated Flash Steps.
Ti bent.
The world slowed.
The wind itself beca a whisper. Leaves seed frozen mid-tremble. The dust in the air sparkled like fragnts of ti.
And yet… nothing.
The shadows remained still. No flickers. No movent.
It's hiding in a blind spot.
Ethan's pupils dilated. Sweat trickled down his temple.
He didn't turn.
He moved.
In an instant, Flash Steps launched him forward. A streak of silver and black against the light.
A gust of wind grazed the back of his neck—too precise to be natural.
He spun.
Claws.
Inches from his face.
His eyes widened. Ti seed to snap back to normal all at once.
The beast lunged. Jaws open wide, teeth glinting with hunger and death.
And in that heartbeat—Ethan knew.
He couldn't dodge this one.
But before death could reach him—
CRACK.
A shape dropped from above like a teor.
A brutal kick smashed into the creature's skull, snapping its head sideways.
Before it could even hit the ground, the newcor twisted midair and launched a roundhouse kick straight into its ribs. The beast flew across the clearing like a ragdoll, crashing through two trees before slamming into the ground.
Arthur.
Ethan gasped.
The sa beast that had almost torn him apart… now lay groaning and limp.
Arthur landed without a sound, the dust around him gently settling.
Ethan stared. His breath caught in his throat.
He couldn't speak.
Couldn't process.
The rage. The relief. The humiliation. The gratitude. It all twisted into a silent scream inside him.
His legs gave out.
But before he could hit the ground, Arthur was there—calm and steady—catching him with one arm.
"Easy," Arthur said softly, pulling him upright.
Ethan winced. Pain roared back through his chest like wildfire. It felt like his ribs were splintered, his lungs barely working.
Arthur's voice remained calm, gentle. "You did well."
"…No," Ethan said bitterly, the words almost choking him. "I didn't. I failed."
Arthur shook his head.
"No. You dodged its last attack. I don't count the follow-up. That was mine to handle."
Ethan blinked. "But… it was one continuous strike—"
"I made the rules," Arthur interrupted, his tone final. "And you passed."
Ethan fell silent.
But he didn't feel like he'd passed anything.
The creature was too strong. He had barely survived. His heart still raced from how close death had been.
Arthur noticed the conflict on his face.
"You don't seem happy," he said, more gently now.
Ethan hesitated.
"It's not that…" He looked away, his voice barely audible. "It's just… I gave it everything. Every drop of strength just to dodge a few attacks. And you took it out like it was nothing. So what does it matter whether I pass or fail?"
Arthur's eyes sharpened. He stepped forward until they were nearly face to face. His voice dropped to a sincere whisper.
"It matters."
He held Ethan's gaze, eyes unwavering.
"Anyone who fights with everything they have to survive… is a warrior. And that's what you did."
"You didn't run. You didn't break. You fought."
"And you lived."
"That's what matters."
Ethan felt a lump rise in his throat.
The words hit him harder than any wound.
Because soone had finally seen him—not as weak. Not as broken. But as soone who fought.
Soone who mattered.
He lowered his eyes. His voice trembled, soft yet filled with quiet emotion.
"…Thank you."
Arthur smiled—a warm, honest smile. "You're welco."
He reached into his space pouch and pulled out two vials—one glowing green, the other yellow.
"Here," he said, holding them out. "Green's for your injury. Yellow's for nourishnt. You'll need both."
Ethan took them with shaky hands. The glass felt heavier than it should've.
He uncorked the green one first and downed it in one gulp. The taste was bitter and tallic. Imdiately, his chest flared with heat.
The pain intensified for a mont—then subsided.
He looked down and watched, amazed, as the gash across his ribs began to seal. Muscles reknit. Skin closed.
But then, an intense hunger clawed at his gut, like a beast had awakened inside him.
He hastily drank the yellow potion. Warmth spread from his stomach, and the hunger vanished like smoke on the wind.
Arthur nodded in approval. "Good. You're stable now."
He turned to look toward the tree line. His expression darkened.
"Now," he said, his voice turning cold. "Let's deal with that fallow."
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