The forest was unnaturally still. Only the sound of Dawon's steady breathing broke the silence, golden inscriptions still pulsing faintly across his muscular frame. Om had been on guard for hours, Zero whispering occasional data into his ear. Then—
ROOOOAAARRR!
A thunderous cry split the night, not far, not near—everywhere at once. It was followed by another, then two more, until four distinct roars shook the canopy, shaking loose leaves and unsettling the air.
Om's eyes narrowed, a grim recognition flashing across his face.
"Zero?" he asked, though he already had a guess.
Zero's voice chimed in his mind, calm but edged with tension.
[those signatures… strong. Comparable to Dawon. Apex predators of this forest.]
[They may have sensed Dawon's… new awakening.]
Before Om could respond, Dawon rose to his full height, mane billowing as the golden glow around his body intensified. His eyes burned with primal authority.
The beasts surrounding there were shifting uneasily, instincts urging them to attack but something greater chaining them in submission.
Om glanced at Dawon. "Tell them to go."
The lion bared his fangs, then tilted his head back and unleashed a roar that ripped through the night like a storm made flesh. The effect was immediate.
The lesser beasts didn't just run—they groveled first, pressing their bodies low in complete submission before fleeing into the distance. Some even whimpered as if they were leaving behind a god.
Om exhaled slowly, his confidence settling in like tempered steel. He rested his palm on Dawon's thick mane.
"Good. Now it's just us. Let's continue the hunt."
But the forest disagreed.
From the depths of shadow, it came—the Mother Spider (different entity than wood spider), its colossal body draped in webs shimmering faintly in moonlight. Its dozens of eyes glimmered red, each the size of a fist, each fixed on Om. Venom dripped from fangs longer than spears, sizzling against the soil.
On the opposite side, the Rift Howler emerged, its cracked, obsidian-like hide pulsing with faint blue fissures. Its chest vibrated like a living drum, low rumbles resonating in the ground.
And then came the other two.
From the left padded a hulking Iron-Tusk Behemoth, a beast resembling a mammoth but plated in metallic armor. Each breath it exhaled was like steam escaping a furnace. Its tusks gleamed, sharp as scythes.
From the right slithered the Serpent Monarch, its massive coils easily rivaling Dawon's height, scales shimmering like liquid mercury. Its vertical pupils narrowed on Om, radiating a killing intent so refined it made even the trees shiver.
Four predators. Four apex rulers.
Each one released their aura in full. The forest floor groaned. The air thickened until even breathing felt heavy.
The forest groaned under the weight of their combined auras.
Four predators against two.
Om's breathing slowed, his heartbeat syncing with Dawon's growl beside him. His hand rested on the lion's mane, the inscriptions pulsing in unison with his own soul.
"Let's split them," Om murmured. "Spider and Serpent for you. Howler and Behemoth for me."
Dawon's golden eyes flashed with feral joy. His massive paw slammed into the earth once, claws carving deep furrows.
Then chaos began.
---
Dawon's Battle
The Mother Spider lunged first, releasing a web that shimmered like steel threads. Each strand vibrated, sharp enough to slice stone.
Dawon roared. The sound wasn't mere defiance—it was command. The absolute authority he had gained from Kalpavriksha. The surrounding beasts, even miles away, felt their spines stiffen and fled deeper into the woods.
But the spider was no lesser beast. It resisted, legs stabbing into the ground, anchoring itself.
Dawon's mane flared, inscriptions burning bright. He leapt, wind exploding under his paws. "Vayavastra!" The gale sharpened into hundreds of blades, tearing through the web. Shredded silk rained down like ash.
From the shadows, the Serpent Monarch struck. Its jaws opened wide, revealing fangs dripping with venom potent enough to melt steel. Its massive tail coiled and whipped, aiming to crush Dawon mid-air.
The lion twisted. His claws glowed golden, slashing downward. Sparks burst as claw met scale—neither side yielding. The serpent hissed, its body writhing with terrifying agility.
Dawon hit the ground hard but landed gracefully. He lowered his head, mane bristling. Golden inscriptions spread further, glowing like molten rivers. His roar shook the forest again—this time, even the serpent hesitated, pupils narrowing.
The Mother Spider screeched, launching itself forward again, fangs stabbing downward. Dawon's paw lashed out, smashing it aside with sheer force. His body blurred, a golden streak as he leapt onto the serpent's back. His jaws clamped down on its neck.
Scales cracked. Blood spurted. The serpent thrashed violently, smashing Dawon into trees, rocks, even its own coils. But Dawon held firm, his golden eyes blazing with dominance.
---
Om's Battle
Meanwhile, Om faced the Rift Howler and the Iron-Tusk Behemoth.
The Howler's chest vibrated again, unleashing another soundwave. It wasn't mere noise—it was rift energy, tearing through matter like invisible blades. Trees split. Rocks shattered.
Om's Vajra Kaya barrier flickered. He gritted his teeth, forcing his body forward. Golden threads of Sanskrit script emerged from his hands, wrapping around the Howler's legs. The beast snarled, pulling violently, but the glowing bindings held just long enough.
The Iron-Tusk Behemoth charged. Steam erupted from its nostrils, tusks glowing hot. Om slammed his palms into the earth.
"Grutva Akarshan!"
Gravity twisted. The ground itself seemed to pull downward, doubling the Behemoth's weight. Its legs buckled, cracking the soil beneath. Yet it didn't stop—it dragged itself forward, tusks inches from Om's chest.
Om's eyes sharpened.
"Come, then."
His fist blazed golden as he stepped into the charge.
"Vajra Kaya Fist!"
The impact echoed like thunder. Golden light clashed against iron tusks, sparks exploding. Om was hurled backward, bones rattling, but the Behemoth's charge faltered, blood dripping from cracks in its tusks.
The Howler, freed from its bindings, lunged. Its claws glowed faint blue, rift energy slicing through the air. Om spun sideways, barely dodging, the claw grazing his shoulder. Flesh tore, blood spilling, but his eyes only grew colder.
"Good," he muttered. "Push me further."
He summoned another surge of Sanskrit light, weaving it around his arms like divine gauntlets. The forest trembled as he charged back into both beasts, fists blazing.
.
.
.
.
Dawon's roar tore through the battle again. He had forced the Serpent Monarch to the ground, claws tearing chunks from its scales. The Mother Spider leapt onto his back, stabbing its legs deep into his hide. Dawon bellowed in rage, rolling violently, slamming both spider and serpent into the ground.
Om, hearing the cry, turned his head for an instant—just long enough for the Behemoth's tusk to catch him in the side. Pain flared white-hot. He spat blood but twisted mid-air, landing on one knee.
"Still breathing," he growled, forcing himself up.
Golden script burst brighter across both man and lion. The forest seemed to bow before them. Their wills synchronized—two beings fighting as one.
Om leapt onto the Behemoth's tusk, sprinting up its massive head. His fist slammed into its eye, Sanskrit glyphs exploding on impact. The Behemoth roared, thrashing wildly.
At the same moment, Dawon clamped his jaws around the Mother Spider's thorax, crushing it with a sickening crack. Venom sprayed, hissing as it burned the ground.
The Serpent Monarch, enraged, lunged again, fangs bared for Om this time. But Dawon intercepted, his body a golden blur. His paw smashed into the serpent's head, sending it crashing into the Behemoth. Both beasts toppled, their roars shaking the night.
The Rift Howler, wounded but not broken, reared back and released a final, deafening roar. Blue rift energy erupted outward, tearing the battlefield apart.
Om stood at the center, battered and bleeding, but his voice rang steady.
"Dawon! Together!"
The lion answered with a thunderous roar. Their powers surged—Sanskrit glyphs and golden inscriptions overlapping, fusing, weaving into a storm of divine authority.
Om's fists blazed like miniature suns. Dawon's mane erupted into a halo of golden fire.
They charged.
Man and beast.
The forest itself trembled as they struck.