The cold forest air bit at Alaric's exposed skin as he and Rhogar moved through the underbrush, pushing deeper into the shadowed woods. There was an urgency to their pace that Alaric didn't entirely understand, but he was beginning to sense the danger in the silence around them. The trees grew thicker, their gnarled roots tangled beneath their feet, the path narrow and winding.
Rhogar's massive form moved with ease, despite the dense foliage, his amber eyes flicking from one direction to another. Alaric followed at a close distance, careful to keep his movements as silent as possible. The Beastman seemed to move instinctively, his senses sharper than Alaric's—something Alaric was growing increasingly aware of as they ventured deeper.
Breaking the silence, Alaric spoke, his voice casual but with a sharp edge of curiosity. "You said we need to move faster. Is it because of the tribes?" His eyes stayed focused on the path ahead, though his mind was already racing through possibilities.
Rhogar didn't look back at him, but his voice was low, almost a whisper. "The tribes are always a threat. They fight for power, territory. But there's more. Something far darker is in these woods."
Alaric's brow furrowed, but he didn't voice his confusion. Rhogar's cryptic words seemed calculated, meant to raise concern without saying much. Still, Alaric pressed on, trying to maintain control of the conversation. "So, these tribes—they fight for land, resources. But there's more to this forest, isn't there? What's the true danger here?"
Rhogar's eyes flicked to him for a split second, his voice just above a murmur. "The tribes fight not just for resources, but for dominance. They're always at war, always moving, never stable. And the deeper we go, the more unstable it becomes. The forest itself is alive with their struggles."
Alaric listened closely, not wanting to seem overly inquisitive, though his mind swirled with questions. "And you said we need to move quickly. Is it just the threat of them, or is there something more specific you're worried about?" His tone remained even, trying to mask his interest while he waited for Rhogar's answer.
Rhogar's voice dropped further, though Alaric was still able to hear it clearly, as if the words were meant for him alone. "There are eyes everywhere. The tribes aren't the only ones watching us. If we aren't careful, we'll become prey." He paused, his amber gaze sweeping the forest once more. "And if you're thinking this is just about tribal politics, you're wrong. There are things in this forest that would make even the strongest warrior hesitate."
Alaric's mind raced, trying to piece together the cryptic warnings Rhogar was giving him. "Are you saying... there are others in the forest? Not just the tribes?" He kept his voice level, though his thoughts were already running wild with possibilities.
Rhogar's pace didn't falter. "Yes. Things that aren't as... straightforward. And in this land, they don't follow the same rules. We have to stay ahead, or we'll be swallowed whole."
Alaric didn't reply immediately, processing the shift in tone. Rhogar's words were strange, filled with layers of hidden meaning. There was more to this world than Alaric had originally thought, and every step forward seemed to take him deeper into something far more dangerous than he could have imagined.
Without warning, the air around them seemed to shift, growing heavier, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Alaric's instincts kicked in. Something wasn't right. His mind raced back to his military training on Earth—he had learned to read a battlefield, to sense when something was amiss. His body tensed, muscles coiling like a spring.
That was when Rhogar reacted. In a blur of movement, the Beastman leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding something that flew toward them. The object whistled through the air, the wind rushing past Alaric's ear as it barely missed him. He jerked to the side, instinctively diving out of the way.
Alaric's heart raced, his mind already processing the situation. His training had kicked in. He hadn't seen the attack coming, but his body had moved on its own, guided by reflex and experience. Rhogar's movements had been just as swift, his enormous body shifting in ways that defied his size. But what caught Alaric off guard wasn't the speed—no, it was the way Rhogar had avoided the projectile. It felt... too deliberate.
Alaric narrowed his eyes. Had Rhogar tried to push him into the path of the attack? The thought lingered in his mind for only a moment. Before he could dwell on it further, another projectile came crashing through the trees, this time aimed directly at him. But Rhogar's massive arm shot out in front of him, deflecting it just in time.
"Stay focused!" Rhogar growled, his voice sharp and urgent. His posture had shifted, all signs of the casual warrior gone. There was a razor-edged intensity to him now.
Alaric didn't question it. He was too focused on the sudden shift in the air—the way everything seemed to change, like the calm before a storm. His hand went to the dagger at his waist, fingers wrapping around the hilt, but something else stirred within him. Not fear. No, something entirely different. It was an electrifying sense of anticipation that rose up from within his core, a rush of excitement, the feeling of a battle about to begin.
Alaric felt his heartbeat quicken, his muscles tense, and for a brief moment, a sense of power surged within him—his newfound abilities aligning with his old instincts. This was a game. A dangerous game, but a game nonetheless. He had always thrived in situations like this. His mind raced, calculating, strategizing in real-time.
From the trees, a figure stepped forward—tall, lean, and covered in a layer of animal pelts. His eyes gleamed a bright yellow, and his posture was predatory, like a beast sizing up its prey. Rhogar growled, his hackles raised, but Alaric noticed the way the Beastman's gaze flickered over him, assessing.
The figure tilted his head, studying Alaric, but said nothing. Instead, a low growl escaped him, barely audible over the growing tension.
Alaric couldn't help but smile, a fierce glint in his eyes. This was it. The game was on. He was no longer a spectator—he was a player.
The unknown opponent took a step forward, and Alaric's blood surged with excitement.
"Ready?" Rhogar's voice came from beside him, low and dangerous.
Alaric's gaze locked onto the figure before them. "Always."
And with that, the forest seemed to come alive with the sound of battle, the air crackling with anticipation.