Some time later, the fox lay sprawled on the ground — tongue hanging, a gaping wound carved into its back.
It had been quick. Aris hadn't really struggled to bring the beast down.
But an uneasy suspicion was beginning to take root in his mind.
"I don't have much on me except these knives… and the western lands keep sending fennecs my way. Now, on top of those little pests, they're sending foxes too."
He glanced at his kill. The fox had been a cut above the rest, larger and smarter — but that also meant something else…
"If the deeper I go, the bigger and more numerous they get… I might not be able to handle what's waiting at the end."
His thoughts drifted to the nature of the border itself. From what he knew, it had been forged in the aftermath of a devastating war between elves and humans.
The land had been torn apart, left barren and uninhabitable.
Since then, the two races had never crossed paths again. The territory had been abandoned. Aris had never expected the western lands to feel like a nation of their own.
In the years following the war, beasts had claimed the region, turning it into hostile ground. But he had never realized just how hostile.
He had once dreamed of making an expedition to reach the elven kingdom. But the council of Arkis had refused him outright, warning him of the dangers.
He'd thought them cowards. Now, seeing the reality, he was starting to think the opposite.
With a powerful, organized squad, he could have pushed deep into these lands — but without information, the risk was far greater. He could wander all the way to the center, only to meet a mountain-sized monster with powers beyond reason.
Suddenly, a shiver ran down his spine.
"Am I going to have to fight something like that… if it exists?"
That was the situation, technically. In the first four days, he hadn't seen a single fox — not even anything bigger than the small fennecs.
They traveled in packs, tougher than they looked, but still manageable.
Then their numbers grew. Soon more than twenty were trailing him like hounds.
It was both worrying and unnatural. At first, there hadn't been any. The packs were swelling behind him… and worst of all, he was fighting more and more of them.
Now the tally was thirty-three beasts — counting the new arrival, who was much larger than the rest.
The western lands clearly hid something deep, vast, and mysterious in their heart… and he was walking straight toward it.
He'd fled the human kingdoms for even the slightest chance of finding help among the elves. But now, seeing the cost of that choice, he was beginning to think it might have been just as foolish.
He growled under his breath.
"Tch. Everything's a bad idea anyway."
The human kingdoms might not know for certain that he was alive — but they surely suspected. Going back was as dangerous as pressing on.
"The problem with the western lands…"
…was that there was no real way to eat. Everything he caught was raw and almost devoid of meat. The black threads were possibly the worst food in existence, and he had no way to cook them.
Worse, he could feel himself slowly being poisoned ever since he started eating fennec flesh.
The deepest instincts of the hunter — the killer — kept rising to the surface, harder and harder to suppress whenever he faced a beast.
If he lost control, he'd become something just as wild and bloodthirsty as the creatures he fought.
"And on top of that, whatever's waiting for me in the depths of this hell… Yeah, I'm not getting out any time soon."
Aris exhaled heavily, staring at the eleven marks he'd carved into the rock rising as high as a house.
They were proof he'd survived this far. Proof he could keep going.
Maybe not until the very end… but the King of Arkis wasn't going to just roll over and die. Ana had asked him to live for them. If he was going to do anything after losing everything, it would be to survive.
For his people.
Arkis… he missed it terribly. Watching his home burn, his people slaughtered, every memory replaced by agony and despair — there was no worse fate.
His heart was heavy. His body, too. Sometimes he wanted to just let go, close his eyes, sleep… and never wake up. See Ana, Ren, Dagrus, his royal guard, Lian — everyone — again.
But he couldn't.
Because the moment he closed his eyes… a dozen fennecs slinked out from behind the massive rock. Their eyes gleamed white in the darkness, their fur catching the moonlight in pale reflections.
Aris slowly raised his head to meet the new arrivals. It was obvious the dead fox beside him had drawn them here.
He grabbed his rough knives, pushed himself up with one knee, shoved the carcass toward the wall, and turned to face the pack.
The trophies he'd carried were gone — he'd had time to butcher them, keeping only the best cuts. But the stench of blood still lingered.
And the fennecs loved it.
As he stared at the hungry pack, Aris sighed once more.
Then he took a step toward them…
The fennecs backed away, driven by an instinctive fear, but soon tried to roar at their approaching foe.
Aris took the chance to hurl a knife at full speed, the blade burying itself in the gaping maw of the lead fennec.
By now, he had become almost an expert at throwing knives.
The rest scattered around him, while a few tried to lay claim to the dead fox lying near the jagged wall.
Aris's pupils slowly shifted toward the fools. In the next moment, he leapt high above them and landed between them and the carcass.
Grabbing the dead beast, he slammed it against the sharp, jagged rock wall — a forest of stone spikes. Several of the reckless fennecs were impaled instantly.
The fox's body didn't hold together for long. It was left hanging from the wall by dozens of stone spikes, its black blood flowing in rivulets down the surface.
Aris glanced at the startled fennecs, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
"This… isn't yours."
Then, in a blur, Aris stepped toward one of the fennecs that had tried to steal his meal, his blade arcing down to cut it in half.
The small beast leapt at the last possible instant, landing on his arm in a movement both graceful and unnerving. With its jaws wide open, it darted toward his face.
Aris was caught off guard — but not unprepared. He ducked just in time, seized the creature by the throat with his free hand, and crushed its momentum.
The others wasted no time. They charged...
Aris rose to his full height in a flash, the squirming fennec clutched in his left hand, his gaze sharp and calculating. He hurled the beast into the cluster, scattering them instantly, then raised his right arm to shield his face.
Indead, one had already reached him in a single bound.
Its fangs sank into the remnants of armor on his forearm, biting with feral fury.
Aris stared at the creature, his eyes turning cold and worried. A grim realization settled over him like lead.
"They're getting stronger… too."