27

The cold night air did little to mask the weight of the horror standing before them. The monstrous entity loomed over the battlefield, its crimson eyes locked onto the warriors who had dared disturb its slumber. Its form twisted, unnatural, shifting with each passing second as if it had no true shape.

Amara steadied her breathing, trying to assess their next move. Around her, the warriors of both packs formed a defensive line, though their expressions revealed the same question she had: how could they fight something like this?

Kian took a step forward, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Whatever this thing is, we don’t run. We face it."

Jarek let out a low growl. "I’d rather know what we’re facing before we rush into it blindly."

Dorian stood rigid, his eyes locked on the creature. "It’s not just a beast," he murmured. "It’s something much worse. I’ve heard stories of beings like this, remnants of the old world. They weren’t meant to be released."

The creature let out another earth-shaking roar, and the very ground beneath them trembled. From the ruins of the stronghold, dark tendrils began to spread, twisting and creeping toward them like living shadows.

"Move!" Amara shouted, slicing through the nearest tendril as it tried to ensnare one of their warriors. The severed limb writhed before dissolving into black smoke.

Kian turned to Fenrir, who had remained silent until now. "Do you know what this thing is?"

Fenrir’s expression was unreadable. "It’s an entity of war. It feeds on battle, on death. Magnus didn’t control it—he was keeping it locked away. And now, we’ve given it exactly what it needed."

A chilling realization settled over them. The war with Magnus had been a distraction. The true enemy had been waiting all along.

Amara clenched her jaw. "Then we end this before it grows stronger. We need to find its weakness."

The creature roared again, and with a sudden surge of speed, it lashed out. Warriors scattered as its massive limbs crashed into the earth, sending shockwaves through the ground.

"Regroup!" Kian bellowed, dodging a strike. "We hold our ground!"

Amara caught Fenrir’s gaze. "You said it feeds on war. What happens if we starve it?"

Fenrir’s eyes widened in understanding. "If it has no battle to consume, it weakens."

Dorian exhaled sharply. "Then we pull back. We deny it the fight it craves."

Jarek snarled in frustration. "You want us to run?"

"No," Kian said, watching as the creature hesitated, sensing their withdrawal. "We make it come to us. On our terms."

Amara gave a curt nod. "Fall back. But not in fear. In strategy."

With that, the warriors moved, retreating into the darkness, leaving behind only the silence of a battle unfinished. The entity watched, its glowing eyes narrowing.

The war was far from over. But for the first time, they had a plan.

The retreat was silent but tense. Every warrior moved with precision, their steps measured, their senses heightened. The entity did not pursue them immediately, but its glowing crimson eyes followed, watching. It was a predator now aware of its prey’s movements.

Amara’s breath came in steady exhales as she led the group through the dense trees. "We keep moving until we’re out of its sight."

Jarek, keeping pace beside her, growled under his breath. "You think it’ll just let us leave? Doesn’t seem like the type."

Kian, walking ahead, glanced back. "No, but it feeds on war. If we don’t give it a fight, it has to come to us. We force it to expend energy, to chase. We starve it."

Fenrir, usually composed, remained tense. "That’s if it follows normal logic. These things, entities like this, they’re different. Ancient. There’s a reason Magnus kept it locked away."

Dorian’s gaze remained on the treetops. "Then we need to figure out how to kill it before it figures out how to hunt us."

The thought sat heavily between them.

After an hour of careful movement, the warriors reached a rocky clearing deep in the forest. Here, the terrain worked in their favor—steep ridges surrounded them, forcing anything that pursued them to approach through narrow paths. It was as good a place as any to regroup.

Kian turned, addressing the warriors. "We make our stand here. If we’re going to defeat this thing, we need a plan."

Jarek crossed his arms. "We don’t even know if it can be killed."

Amara turned to Fenrir. "You know more than you’re saying. What are we dealing with?"

Fenrir exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know everything. But I do know that it’s not something that can be killed by ordinary means. It isn’t alive in the way we are. It exists to consume."

Kian’s jaw tightened. "Then how do we stop it?"

Fenrir hesitated before answering. "We have to weaken it. If it feeds on war, we cut off its supply. But that’s only part of it. There has to be a way to destroy it permanently."

Dorian, who had been silent, spoke up. "What about the ruins? Magnus kept it contained. How? There must have been something in that stronghold that held it in place."

Amara’s mind raced. "The chamber. When we entered, it felt... contained. Controlled."

Kian’s eyes sharpened. "You’re saying something there was keeping it trapped. If we can find out what that was..."

Fenrir nodded. "Then we might have a way to seal it again."

A sudden chill swept through the clearing. The warriors tensed. From the distance, the faint echo of the entity’s roar vibrated through the trees.

Dorian gritted his teeth. "We don’t have much time."

Amara steadied herself. "Then we move fast. Back to the ruins. We find what was keeping it contained. And we end this."

Kian gave a firm nod. "Everyone, prepare to move. We don’t get another chance at this."

The warriors steeled themselves as they turned back toward the path they had fled. The hunt had begun,

but this time, they would not be the prey.