The night in Blackwood Village was always eerily quiet, broken only by the chirping of nocturnal insects and the faint rustle of the trees surrounding the settlement. Yet tonight, the silence was thicker than usual, as though the very forest beyond the wooden palisades was holding its breath. The hunters who had returned earlier from patrol whispered uneasily of strange movements in the woods. Even Garron, the grizzled captain who had faced wolves and bears without flinching, had furrowed his brows with unease.
Aiden sat outside his small hut, gazing into the forest. His sword rested across his lap, the faint moonlight reflecting off the steel. The blade felt heavier these days—not because of fatigue, but because of the weight of expectation he had begun to place on himself.
It had been three years since he awakened in this new body, inheriting the ambitions of the boy who once dreamed of becoming a knight. And though Aiden's heart was filled with that same dream, the devouring power he carried twisted his journey into something stranger—something more dangerous.
He could still remember the first time he used it, the terror of absorbing the essence of a forest beast and feeling its strength meld with his own. At first it had disgusted him, felt like a stain on his desire to be a noble knight. But now… he was beginning to understand. Strength, no matter how dark its source, was necessary in this world. And if his dream was to be realized, then he could not afford hesitation.
From the distance, a wolf howled. Deep, guttural, powerful. Not the cry of an ordinary Rank 1 wolf, nor even the larger Rank 2 variety that roamed in small packs. This was heavier. Wilder. Something much closer to the whispers Garron had muttered to himself on their last hunt.
Dire wolves. Rank 5 beasts.
Aiden's fingers tightened around his sword hilt, his knuckles whitening.
---
Inside the village tavern, Garron slammed his mug onto the table, the frothy ale spilling over the rim. The hunters gathered looked up.
"You all felt it," Garron growled, his voice like gravel. "That howl came from deep within Blackwood. The Dire Wolf pack is stirring."
Murmurs rippled through the hunters. Dire Wolves weren't just another monster. Their intelligence and pack cohesion made them deadlier than most beasts of their rank. If they were moving closer to the village, the forest itself was changing.
"But Captain," one of the younger hunters said nervously, "the Dire Wolves haven't left their territory for decades. Why would they stir now?"
Garron's jaw clenched. He didn't answer immediately, only staring at the flickering torchlight on the wall. In his heart, he knew the answer. Something deeper, older, was waking. The sealed presence beneath the Blackwood. The one the village had forgotten, but Garron's ancestors had whispered of.
Before he could speak, the tavern door creaked open. Aiden entered. His presence, though young, had begun to draw eyes. The boy wasn't like the others—there was a fire in his eyes, a focus far sharper than any youth his age.
"I'll join the next patrol," Aiden said firmly, his voice cutting through the murmurs.
Several hunters exchanged glances. Garron raised a brow. "Boy, you don't even understand what you're asking. Those howls weren't from some Rank 2 wolves. This is beyond your—"
"Then let me prove it," Aiden interrupted. His tone was calm, not arrogant, but filled with an unshakable determination that made Garron pause. "If I'm to walk the path of a knight, I can't shy away from danger. Let me fight, Captain. If I can't survive the forest, I don't deserve the title I'm chasing."
Silence. The hunters studied him. Some snorted. Others muttered that the boy was too reckless. But Garron saw it—the steel in Aiden's eyes.
After a long pause, Garron finally grunted. "Fine. But you'll follow my orders to the letter. One mistake, and the wolves will tear you apart. Understand?"
"Yes," Aiden said simply.
---
That night, as the patrol left the safety of the village, the forest stretched before them like a black abyss. Torches flickered, shadows dancing across the ancient trees. The hunters moved with practiced silence, their weapons ready. Garron led at the front, his great axe slung across his back, while Aiden walked near the rear, sword drawn, senses sharp.
Every step deeper into the forest made Aiden's heartbeat quicken. The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of moss and something else—something foul. It reminded him faintly of the aura he had felt near the sealed cavern months ago. A darkness that pressed against his skin.
Then came the sound. Branches snapping. Low growls rolling across the trees.
The patrol froze.
From the shadows, glowing red eyes emerged. One pair. Then three. Then a dozen.
The Dire Wolves stepped into the clearing, their massive forms dwarfing ordinary wolves. Their fur was matted black, their fangs gleaming in the torchlight. The largest among them—a hulking alpha easily three times the size of a man—let out a guttural growl, its presence suffocating.
"Rank 5… at least," Garron muttered. He gripped his axe tightly.
The hunters formed a defensive circle, their spears outward. The air was thick with tension.
Aiden's gaze locked on the alpha. His fingers twitched against his sword. His body screamed at him to back down, to flee from the overwhelming aura radiating from the beast. But another voice inside him—calm, cold, hungry—rose above the fear.
Devour it.
He clenched his jaw. This wasn't like the lower-ranked beasts he had slain before. This was different. Stronger. But if he couldn't stand against monsters like this, then his path to knighthood was nothing but a lie.
The alpha wolf snarled—and the pack charged.
---
What followed was chaos.
The clearing erupted into flashing steel, snarling fangs, and the screams of men and beasts alike. Hunters thrust their spears, striking wolves mid-leap, but the Dire Wolves moved like shadows, weaving between attacks and tearing into flesh. Garron roared, swinging his axe in a wide arc, cleaving through a wolf's skull in one blow.
Aiden moved at the edge of the circle, his sword flashing as he parried a wolf's snapping jaws. The sheer weight behind its bite nearly sent him tumbling, but he twisted, driving his blade into its flank. Hot blood sprayed across his arms.
But there was no time to breathe. Another wolf lunged.
Aiden ducked low, rolling across the dirt as claws ripped through the space where his chest had been. His sword lashed out instinctively, carving across the wolf's leg. The beast stumbled, howling, before another hunter finished it off.
His heart pounded. His breath came ragged. But his eyes—his eyes burned. This was the fire he had longed for. The battlefield where strength was tested, where resolve was measured in blood.
Then it came.
The alpha wolf barreled forward, scattering hunters with sheer force. Its massive body crashed through spears, its claws shredding shields like paper. Its gaze locked on Aiden.
Time slowed.
Aiden's instincts screamed. His body moved before thought could catch up. He raised his sword—too small, too fragile against the monstrous claws descending upon him.
And then, in that instant, something inside him stirred.
The dormant power. The dragon's blood sleeping deep within.
His vision sharpened. His grip steadied. His fear vanished, replaced by a cold clarity.
The wolf's claw came down—Aiden stepped in, his blade thrusting upward with impossible precision. The steel pierced between the alpha's armored chest plates, sliding into flesh. The beast roared, thrashing, but Aiden didn't falter.
"Fall!" he shouted, voice echoing with something not entirely human.
The alpha staggered, blood spraying, before Garron's axe slammed down upon its skull, ending its roar in a sickening crunch.
Silence.
The clearing was littered with corpses—wolf and man alike. The hunters panted heavily, some wounded, some barely standing.
And Aiden… stood still, his blade dripping with the blood of the alpha.
Every eye turned to him. The boy who had faced down a Rank 5 Dire Wolf and lived.
And deep within his chest, his heart pounded—not just with exertion, but with hunger. The devouring talent whispered again, urging him to claim the essence of the beast he had struck down.
He clenched his teeth, fighting it back. Not here. Not yet.
But the seed was planted.
---
When they returned to the village, dawn was breaking. The hunters carried their wounded, their expressions grim but filled with a new respect for the boy among them. Garron walked in silence, but every so often, his gaze flicked toward Aiden.
That night, as Aiden sat alone in his hut, he stared at his sword, the echoes of the battle replaying in his mind.
If this is only Rank 5… what kind of monsters await beyond the forest?
He looked toward the horizon. His path had only just begun.
And far beneath the roots of the Blackwood, something stirred. A seal weakened. A whisper escaped.
The true darkness was watching.
---