The blood moon rises again, painting the earth in crimson light. Mael, torn between man and monster, is dragged into the Kingdom of Kael's first strike. Tonight, the war begins—not with armies marching, but with blood spilled under the cursed sky.
---
The Crimson Awakening
The night was alive with silence. A silence so sharp it pressed against Mael's ears until he could hear only the pounding of his own heart. Above him, the blood moon glared—an unblinking eye of judgment, swelling in size, bleeding its cursed light across the forest canopy. The air thickened with metallic tang, and with every breath Mael took, the beast inside stirred like a chained animal rattling its cage.
Selona stood beside him, her cloak shimmering faintly in the red glow. Her voice, low and steady, cut through the tension.
"Tonight, they come," she whispered. "Not to kill you. Not yet. Tonight, they measure you."
Mael clenched his fists, claws threatening to break through his skin. His reflection in Selona's watchful eyes was no longer fully human. His pupils had stretched into feral slits, and veins crawled darkly across his arms, pulsing like living serpents.
He growled, his voice breaking between man and beast.
"Let them come. Let them see what I've become."
---
The Ambush in the Trees
The first arrow whistled from the shadows, silver-tipped, glowing faintly against the moonlight. Mael dodged, but the arrow sliced across his cheek, burning his flesh with silver's sting. The scent of blood was his warning—the forest erupted.
From the trees leapt shadows in motion: hunters clad in dark leather armor, their faces smeared with ash, their blades gleaming with liquid silver. They moved not like men but like predators—silent, calculated, merciless.
"Kael's hunters…" Selona hissed, raising her hand as if to summon unseen forces. "Stay alive, Mael. Prove you are more than prey."
Mael roared, the sound echoing across the forest like a demon unchained. His claws ripped through the first attacker, tearing flesh from bone, but another lunged with a silver spear, stabbing deep into his side. Agony flared through him, yet the wound refused to stay open; his curse twisted the healing into something violent, flesh knitting, then splitting again, like his body was unsure whether to die or survive.
The hunters' formation was precise—they attacked in waves, testing his endurance. Each strike carried intent: not to kill swiftly, but to weaken, to push him toward madness.
---
The Beast Breaks Free
Mael fought, but the blood moon pressed down on him like a hand forcing him to his knees. His body convulsed, his vision clouding in crimson haze. With a scream that fractured into a snarl, his transformation ripped free.
Fur sprouted unevenly, black streaked with veins of red light. His jaw snapped forward, fangs jagged, saliva dripping thick and dark. His spine arched until bone tore through skin, leaving jagged ridges down his back.
And then—the beast unleashed.
He moved faster than the hunters could blink. Claws tore through armor as if it were paper. Skulls cracked beneath his strength, blood spraying against the bark of trees. The hunters' fear broke through their discipline—Mael saw it in their eyes as they realized they had unleashed something beyond their expectations.
Selona's voice tried to anchor him:
"Mael! Control it—don't let it consume you!"
But her words drowned in the roar of the beast. He was not just killing. He was destroying. Limbs scattered, trees toppled, the forest floor painted in gore. The hunters' screams blended into the howls of the blood moon.
---
The Message of Kael
When the carnage ended, only one hunter remained alive. He lay broken against a tree, blood pooling beneath him. His chest heaved, but his eyes glowed with a strange calm, as if death was nothing but a step toward something greater.
Mael loomed over him, dripping blood, his breath ragged and steaming in the night air. The hunter coughed, his voice thick with blood, yet steady.
"You are no wolf, Mael. You are the storm they feared… the end even we dare not name."
Mael growled, his claws hovering inches from the man's throat.
"Who sent you?"
The hunter smiled, teeth streaked red.
"The Kingdom does not send us to win, only to learn. And now… they know what you are."
With that, he bit down on a capsule hidden in his mouth—poison or curse, Mael couldn't tell—but his body convulsed and went still, lips frozen in a knowing smile.
---
The Aftermath
The forest was silent again, but this silence was heavier. The corpses of Kael's hunters lay scattered like broken dolls, their blood steaming against the cold earth. Mael stood among them, trembling. His body twitched, muscles spasming as the curse struggled to contain the beast within.
His eyes flicked to Selona. Her face was pale, her cloak soaked with splattered blood, but her gaze was steady.
"This was not their army," she said quietly. "This was their test. Tonight you passed… but at a price."
Mael looked down at his hands—hands that no longer looked like his own, claws dripping, veins pulsing with unnatural light. His chest heaved as the question rose, clawing at his sanity: Was he still Mael, or something else entirely?
Selona's voice cut into the thought, cold and certain.
"Tonight was the first blood of war. Tomorrow, Mael… the war itself begins."
And above them, the blood moon swelled brighter, as if smiling at the carnage it had birthed.