The forest air was sharp with the tang of pine sap and damp earth. Blaze moved through it with measured steps, his cloak brushing silently against undergrowth. He had left the knights behind hours ago, but their words still clung to him, echoing in his skull.
*Useless summon. Probably wolf food by now.*
His jaw tightened. The laughter of those armored men replayed over and over until it was no longer memory, but a pulse of hatred that kept him walking, even as hunger clawed at his insides.
It was worse now. The wolf's blood had sustained him for a while, but the fire had already returned. His throat ached with dryness, his tongue felt like sandpaper. He tried to ignore it, but every sound in the forest tempted him. Every rustle, every skitter of life. He could hear the veins beating in rabbits. He could almost see the throb of blood in birds' necks as they darted between branches.
But he didn't move. He refused.
"Not again," Blaze muttered, clenching his fists. His voice was hoarse from restraint. "Not like the wolf."
The ring pulsed faintly. *The beast sustained you,* it whispered, *but beasts are lesser vessels. Their blood is thin, their essence weak. If you would grow, you must drink of higher prey.*
"Higher prey," Blaze repeated under his breath. "You mean people."
The ring hummed with amusement. *Mortals. Beastfolk. Elf, dwarf, human—it matters not. Only in the blood of thinking races lies true power. Feed, and the path opens wider.*
Blaze shook his head hard, as if he could fling the words out. "No. Not yet."
The hunger disagreed. Every step grew heavier, as though his own body betrayed him. His throat burned hotter, a coal that refused to cool. He licked his lips, tasting phantom traces of the wolf again, the rich warmth he both craved and hated.
He pressed a hand against his stomach, whispering harshly, "I'll hold out. I'll—"
A sound cut him off.
Metal striking flesh. A cry of pain. Then the guttural snarl of some beast.
Blaze froze. His new senses sharpened instantly. He turned his head, tracking the direction of the sound—east, a short distance beyond a thicket.
Another crash followed, trees shaking. A roar split the forest, guttural and furious.
Curiosity and hunger spiked together. Blaze moved, slipping through the brush without a sound, each step light and deliberate.
He emerged at the edge of a clearing and stopped.
A battle had unfolded here. Splintered trunks bore claw marks deep as daggers. Blood spattered across grass, staining it dark. And at the center of the carnage lay the fallen body of a warrior.
Blaze's eyes narrowed. Beastfolk.
The warrior's form was humanoid but wolf-headed, fur matted with blood. His armor was simple leather, torn open across the chest by brutal claw marks. His sword lay broken at his side. Nearby, the corpses of two monsters—hulking, bear-like creatures with jagged tusks—lay still, throats torn open by the warrior's blade before he fell.
The beastfolk groaned, clutching his chest. His breath came ragged, wheezing. Each rise of his chest looked shallower than the last.
Blaze stepped closer before realizing what he was doing. His mouth went dry at once. The coppery smell of blood saturated the air—fresh, warm, intoxicating. His fangs ached. His entire body screamed to pounce, to drink, to drown in it.
The beastfolk's head turned slightly. His eyes—golden, dimming with pain—caught Blaze's figure in the trees.
"You there," the warrior rasped, voice thick with blood. "Help me… or finish it quickly."
Blaze stood rigid, fists clenched.
Help him? He couldn't. He had nothing to offer. The man's wounds were too deep—lungs pierced, blood pooling fast. Even if Blaze dragged him somewhere safe, he wouldn't last an hour.
But the other option…
Blaze licked his lips unconsciously. His throat burned like fire. He could already taste the blood on his tongue, as if it called to him.
The ring's voice oozed into his skull. *Take him. End his suffering, and sate your hunger. His death is certain. What does mercy matter, when his blood can be yours?*
Blaze staggered forward, knees weak. The beastfolk's chest heaved, each breath gurgling. His pulse was frantic, fluttering like a drumbeat begging to be silenced.
He crouched beside the warrior, eyes fixed on the gaping wound across his ribs. Blood welled bright and thick.
His fangs itched. His vision swam.
"Damn it," Blaze whispered. He shut his eyes, clutching his head. "I can't—I won't—"
But then the ring whispered something new. Something darker.
*There is a third way.*
Blaze froze. His head tilted slightly, as though straining toward the words. "What?"
*Do not merely drink. Do not merely kill. Give him your blood. Bind him with it. Through death, he will be remade. Through you, he will live again.*
Blaze's eyes shot open. His breath caught. "You mean…"
*Spawn.*
The word slid like oil across his mind.
He stared down at the beastfolk, whose eyes had already begun to glaze. His hand trembled above the wound. The temptation was unbearable. A servant. An ally. No longer alone.
But revulsion surged too. To enslave someone, to corrupt them into… whatever he was becoming—it was monstrous.
The beastfolk coughed wetly, blood spilling down his chin. His lips moved, barely audible. "Please… don't let me… die…"
The plea speared through Blaze like a blade. He saw himself in the man's desperation. Helpless. Cast aside. Begging for someone, anyone, to give him a chance.
His hand lowered.
"Damn me for this," Blaze whispered.
He sank his fangs into the warrior's neck.
The taste hit him instantly, hotter and richer than the wolf's had been. His throat convulsed, greed swallowing before his mind could stop him. The beastfolk writhed weakly, his pulse slowing with each draw.
Then Blaze bit his own wrist. The pain was sharp, immediate. Blood welled, thick and dark. He pressed it against the beastfolk's lips.
At first nothing happened. Then the warrior convulsed violently. His back arched, a strangled cry ripping from his throat. His hands clawed at the dirt, muscles spasming uncontrollably.
Blaze gritted his teeth, holding him down. The air reeked of sweat and iron, of something ancient stirring. The warrior's eyes snapped open wide—once gold, now streaked with crimson veins.
The bond struck Blaze like lightning. He gasped, clutching his chest. He felt the beastfolk's heartbeat inside his own veins, felt his fear, his agony, his desperate clinging to life. And beneath it all, a tether formed—unbreakable, pulling tight, linking master to servant.
Then silence.
The beastfolk collapsed limp against the ground, chest still. Blaze's breath caught. Had it failed? Had he just murdered him for nothing?
But slowly—agonizingly slowly—the warrior's chest rose again. Once. Twice. Steadier each time.
When his eyes opened, they glowed faintly red. His wounds were gone. His breath came smooth, strong.
And the first thing he did was kneel.
"Master," he whispered hoarsely. His voice carried no hesitation, no doubt. Only devotion, burning absolute.
Blaze stared, frozen.
The ring purred with satisfaction. *Your first child. Your first knight.*
The beastfolk lifted his head slightly, crimson eyes locking on Blaze. His lips curled into a faint smile. "You saved me. I am yours to command."
Blaze's stomach twisted. Some part of him recoiled in disgust—this wasn't loyalty. This was compulsion, blood-deep, an unnatural chain.
And yet another part of him, darker and colder, thrilled at the sight.
He extended his hand. "Rise."
The spawn obeyed instantly.
Blaze felt the tether pulse again, a constant reminder. He could sense the beastfolk's emotions now—calm, eager, submissive. His mind bent like steel under pressure, unyielding in its obedience.
"What's your name?" Blaze asked.
"Kael," the warrior replied without pause.
Blaze nodded slowly. "Then, Kael… you're mine now."
Kael bowed his head. "Yes, master."
Blaze's lips pressed into a thin line. His thoughts churned. It should have horrified him. It *did* horrify him. And yet—he wasn't alone anymore.
Not useless. Not prey.
He looked at Kael—his first servant, his first creation—and for the first time, Blaze felt something bloom alongside his hatred.
Ambition.
He whispered, barely audible, but with weight that sank into the soil itself:
"This world tried to cast me aside. Then I'll make it mine—one spawn at a time."
The ring's glow pulsed, and for once, Blaze didn't resist the thrill it sent through him.