The atmosphere in the village had changed.
I was young, but I wasn't blind. The adults spoke in hushed whispers, casting wary glances toward the dense treeline that bordered our home. My father, usually calm and composed, was on edge.
Whatever he had encountered in the forest had shaken him.
And I intended to find out why.
My father had spent years tracking prey—watching, waiting, understanding the rhythm of the land. His instincts were sharper than any blade, honed through countless encounters with beasts that lurked beyond civilization.
So when he said something was wrong, I believed him.
I had spent the past few days sharpening my ability to sense mana, and though I was still far from controlling it efficiently, I was beginning to notice things.
The air was different.
It carried an unsettling stillness, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Birds that once chirped endlessly were now silent. The rustling of leaves, usually constant, had grown sporadic. Even the wind that carried the familiar scents of pine and damp earth seemed hesitant.
Something was watching.
And I felt it.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, I made my decision.
If I was to grow stronger, I couldn't rely solely on training in controlled conditions. I needed to experience danger. To understand what true power meant.
So, against all common sense, I ventured into the woods.
It wasn't reckless—not entirely. I memorized my father's hunting routes, ensuring I never strayed too far. My mana, though weak, was slowly integrating into my body, making my movements lighter, quicker, more responsive.
But nothing could have prepared me for what I found.
A corpse.
It was slumped against a tree, limbs twisted unnaturally. Blood soaked the ground beneath it, pooling into the roots like dark ink. The stench was overwhelming—rotting flesh and something… foul.
This was no simple animal attack.
I knelt beside the body, scanning its wounds. Deep claw marks raked across the man's chest, his ribs partially exposed. But what sent a chill down my spine was the expression on his face.
His mouth was frozen in a silent scream, his eyes wide, unseeing, yet filled with sheer terror.
He had died afraid. Horribly afraid.
I had seen countless corpses in my past life. Victims of war, of assassinations, of starvation. But this? This was something different.
I needed to leave. Now.
Then I heard it.
A low, guttural growl.
I turned slowly, heart hammering against my ribs. Something moved in the trees, just beyond my sight, shifting between the shadows. It was large, its silhouette distorted, unnatural.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't a normal beast.
I steadied my breathing. Panic was the enemy.
A rustling in the underbrush. The creature circled me, its steps unnervingly silent for something so large. My mind raced, analyzing my limited options.
1. Run? Impossible. It was faster.
2. Hide? No cover, and it had already seen me.
3. Fight? …Suicidal.
But there was a fourth option.
I reached inward, finding my mana—the ember that had flickered weakly before. I didn't need to overpower the creature. I just needed to survive long enough to escape.
My father's words echoed in my mind. Guide it. Don't command it.
I focused, drawing the mana toward my legs, forcing it into my muscles. A surge of energy coursed through me, not powerful, but just enough.
The beast lunged.
I moved.
Faster than I ever had before.
I barely avoided the swipe of its claws, feeling the rush of air as they tore through empty space where I had stood a moment before. Too close.
I pivoted, planting my foot against the dirt, forcing another burst of mana into my legs. Another step. Another dodge.
But I was running out of time.
Mana wasn't infinite. I was burning through it far faster than my body could handle.
I needed to end this.
The beast snarled, its movements jerky, unnatural—like it didn't belong in this world. I had seen creatures like this before. Not in this life, but in my past one.
Aberrations.
Things that should not exist.
Its eyes locked onto me, filled with something far more terrifying than animal hunger. Intelligence.
It knew I was a threat.
I grabbed the nearest weapon I could find—a jagged stone, barely enough to pierce flesh, let alone whatever this thing was made of. But I had no choice.
The beast lunged again.
I dropped low, letting it pass over me, and in that instant, I drove the stone into its exposed throat.
A sickening crunch. A gurgled snarl.
The beast collapsed, twitching violently as dark ichor spilled from the wound. It writhed, struggling to move, but the damage was done.
And then… it stopped.
I stared at its lifeless form, my breathing ragged. My heart still pounded in my chest, but something else filled me now.
Satisfaction.
Not because I had killed it.
But because I had survived.
By the time I made it back to the village, the sky was a deep shade of blue, the first traces of dawn peeking over the horizon. My clothes were torn, my arms scraped, my body aching.
I had killed before. In another life, I had taken more lives than I could count. But this was different. This was my first battle in this world.
And it wouldn't be my last.
I pushed open the door to our home, my body screaming in protest. My mother was asleep by the hearth, and my father—
"Sylas."
He was already awake. Sitting in a chair, arms crossed, gaze sharp.
"You went into the woods." It wasn't a question.
I met his eyes, unflinching.
"Yes."
A long silence stretched between us. Then, to my surprise, he sighed, rubbing his temples.
"You're reckless," he muttered. "Stubborn. And too damn smart for your own good."
He leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "Did you kill it?"
I hesitated, then nodded.
Another pause. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Good," he said. "Because that was only the beginning."