The road beyond Black Hollow was a scar across the wasteland, a jagged path carved by time and the weight of forgotten battles. Reven and Kaela moved swiftly, the echoes of the Forsaken still clinging to their thoughts. The blade at Reven's side felt heavier now—not from fatigue, but from knowledge. The ruins had been a warning, and if the dead were stirring, then something far worse was on the horizon.
Kaela walked a step ahead, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "We're close to the Ashen Ravine. If we make it through before nightfall, we might avoid—"
A howl cut through the air. Not a beast's cry. Not human, either. Something else.
Reven drew his sword instinctively, its runes flickering at the edge. Kaela's ears twitched. "We're not alone," she murmured.
A shadow moved along the ridgeline above them, kicking loose rocks as it leaped from outcropping to outcropping. Then another. And another.
Hunters.
A pack of them, their forms barely visible against the ashen sky. They moved like spectres, their wolf-like features twisted by war and hunger.
"Fangborn," Kaela said under her breath, her expression unreadable.
Reven's grip tightened. Kaela's kind.
But these weren't like her. Something was wrong.
The first one leapt from the rock above, a blur of fur and steel. Reven barely had time to pivot before it struck, its curved blade clashing against his own. The force of the impact rattled his bones, but he held his ground.
Kaela was already moving. In a single fluid motion, she drew an arrow and loosed it into the throat of a second attacker mid-air. The beast choked, crashing lifelessly into the dust.
Another closed in. Kaela turned sharply, meeting the attacker head-on.
"Stand down!" she barked.
The Fangborn warrior hesitated for only a moment, his golden eyes locking with hers. Then, with a low growl, he lunged.
Kaela cursed, meeting his charge with her twin daggers. There would be no diplomacy here.
Reven's blade sang as he parried another strike, stepping into the space of his attacker. A quick pivot—his sword found flesh. The Fangborn snarled, then fell.
But the others were circling.
Then, from the ridge above, a voice.
"Enough!"
The remaining warriors halted, their yellow eyes shifting toward the speaker. A massive figure stood above them, half-shrouded in the dust of the battlefield. A warlord's stance. Armor scarred from a hundred battles.
Kaela's expression darkened. "Raze."
Raze, the Iron Warlord, descended the rocks like a beast surveying his prey. His fur was darker than the others, streaked with silver along his arms and shoulders. Scars lined his face, one running from his brow to his jaw.
"You've got nerve coming through my lands, Kaela." His voice was deep, rough with experience.
Kaela sheathed one dagger but kept the other in her grip. "Didn't realize you claimed the whole wasteland now."
Raze's gaze flicked to Reven. His nostrils flared slightly. "And you bring a stray."
Reven met his stare without flinching. He'd seen that look before—the weighing of a warrior, the calculation of strength.
"I don't answer to you," Reven said evenly.
Raze's lips curled, revealing sharp fangs. "Brave words. But a dead man's courage means nothing."
Kaela stepped forward. "We're passing through, Raze. We don't want a fight."
Raze let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. "A fight? No. But if you want passage through my territory…" His golden eyes locked onto Reven. "He earns it."
Reven's jaw clenched. "A challenge."
"Single combat," Raze confirmed. "You win, you go free. You lose…" His grin widened. "Well. I'll let you decide which is worse."
Kaela tensed. "This isn't necessary—"
"It is," Raze interrupted. "Or do you want me to take it as an insult?"
Silence stretched between them.
Then Reven exhaled. He stepped forward, drawing his blade.
"I accept."
Raze's expression sharpened, the anticipation of battle lighting his features.
"Then let's see what kind of warrior you are."
The circle was drawn. No interference. No tricks.
Raze stretched his neck, rolling his shoulders. He fought without a shield, wielding a massive cleaver-like blade—a weapon built for brute force.
Reven had speed. He had precision. But he also had something more.
The blade.
Raze moved first. He lunged, bringing his cleaver down with enough force to shatter bone. Reven barely sidestepped in time, the ground splitting beneath the impact.
He countered, slashing for an opening in Raze's armour. Too fast. The warlord twisted, deflecting the strike with his gauntlet.
Then Raze spun, his elbow catching Reven in the ribs.
Pain exploded in his side. He staggered, barely rolling away before the next strike came down.
"Too slow," Raze growled.
Reven wiped blood from his mouth, eyes narrowing.
Then he gripped the hilt of his sword—and let the blade guide him.
The runes flickered, and Reven moved.
He surged forward, dodging past Raze's swing. The cleaver barely missed his head as he twisted inside Raze's guard—and struck.
The Forsaken Blade found its mark.
Raze's armour split at the shoulder, a deep cut opening beneath the steel. The warlord snarled, staggering back.
But he didn't fall.
Instead, he grinned.
"Now that's more like it."
Raze lifted his hand, signalling the end of the duel. His warriors, who had been waiting in silence, did not protest.
"You've got fire, stray," Raze said, rolling his shoulder where Reven had struck. "Not bad."
Reven lowered his sword, breathing heavily. "Does that mean we're free to go?"
Raze's grin widened. "For now. But don't get comfortable. The wasteland is changing."
His gaze flickered toward Kaela, unreadable for a moment.
"Stay sharp, little wolf."
Kaela said nothing as Raze and his warriors disappeared into the dust, their shadows melting back into the wasteland.
Only when they were gone did Reven exhale fully. He glanced at Kaela. "Friend of yours?"
Kaela sheathed her daggers. "Something like that."
Reven nodded, still catching his breath. He had won today—but something told him this wasn't the last he'd see of Raze.
And something even deeper told him the warlord had been holding back.
The road ahead was only getting more dangerous.