The Rageler sprang.

  It launched itself through the air with terrifying speed, extending its claws, with a ripping roar from its throat, as it aimed straight for Darius’ chest. There was no hesitation in the attack; only pure, murderous intent.

  Darius did not panic. He pivoted on his heel and swung.

  Steel met scaled flesh with a sickening crack. The force of the blow caught the Rageler mid-air and hurled it sideways, its body smashing into the corner of the room where Nathan had taken cover.

  The wall shuddered on impact, loose plaster raining down as the creature snarled in fury. Thick, dark blood seeped from the gash torn across its side, hissing faintly where it struck the floor.

  Nathan did not wait to see more.

  He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door, shouting for Catherine, Jeremy and Anthon. They fled after him, fear lending speed to their limbs, just as the Rageler twisted upright again, shaking off the blow with an unnatural resilience.

  Darius was already moving.

  He charged with his blade raised, refusing to grant the beast even a heartbeat to recover. His boots slammed against the floor as he slashed again and again, driving the Rageler back.

  But the creature was fast; far faster than the one he had faced before.

  It danced backwards, claws scraping the ground as it slipped just beyond the reach of his sword, its movements jerky yet precise. Darius’ blade sliced through empty air and frustration flared.

  With a shout, Darius lunged again… but this time, the Rageler vanished upward.

  It leapt, not away, but sideways, landing against the wall with a wet slap and clinging there like a grotesque spider. Its claws dug deep into the wood and stone, holding its weight effortlessly as it hissed down at him.

  Darius froze.

  He had seen a Rageler fight. He had bled against it. But this…

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” he breathed.

  The Rageler sensed the hesitation.

  In a blur, it began to move— leaping from wall to wall in rapid succession, claws striking, releasing and striking again. The room became a spinning cage of motion.

  Panic crept in as Darius turned, his boots scraped as he tried to track it, sword swinging from one side to the other as his eyes struggled to keep pace. His breath grew ragged. The walls felt too close.

  Then, the Rageler sprang again.

  This time, it launched from the wall to the ceiling, clinging there for a fraction of a second— long enough for Darius’ eyes to flick upward, and then it dropped straight at him.

  Darius swung instinctively, but the blade cut through nothing.

  Pain exploded across Darius side as claws sank into his flesh, tearing through the tunic and skin alike. The impact drove the air from his lungs as the Rageler crashed into him, forcing him backward.

  They flew together.

  Wood splintered as they smashed through the window. Darius felt himself weightless for a heartbeat, as the world spinned…

  And then they burst out into the open air, locked together, falling hard toward the ground beyond the house.

  Darius slammed his heel into the Rageler’s chest, the impact knocking the creature sideways. It skidded across the dirt, claws tearing furrows into the ground.

  Darius rolled, gritting his teeth as pain flared from the gashes in his side. Blood soaked through his tunic, warm and sticky, but he forced himself upright anyway.

  He raised his sword again, as duty did not wait for pain.

  Yet the Rageler did not rush him.

  Instead, It rose slowly, almost cautiously, its head cocked at an unnatural angle.

  Its glowing eyes were not fixed on Darius, but on something beyond him, beyond Jeremy’s house. It stared into empty air, alert, as though listening to a command only it could hear.

  Darius straightened fully, breathing heavily as he followed the creature’s gaze.

  There’s nothing there, he thought

  Then the Rageler moved, not toward him but away.

  It bolted with terrifying speed, sprinting past the edge of the compound and straight toward the dark line of the woods.

  Darius froze for half a heartbeat, disbelief crashing over him.

  “No,” he whispered. “You don’t run.”

  He had been told, a Rageler does not retreat. Not until its Truther was dead, or it was.

  And yet it was fleeing.

  Darius swore and broke into motion.

  He sprinted for the tethered horses, sheathing his sword only long enough to grab the reins of his mount. The horse reared slightly as he vaulted onto its back, startled by the blood.

  “Go!” Darius shouted, kicking hard.

  The horse surged forward just as Jeremy, Nathan, Catherine, and Anthon stepped out into the yard. None of them spoke. They only watched, shaken, as Darius thundered past and vanished after the monster into the night.

  The Rageler hit the treeline and vanished into shadow.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Darius drove his heels in again, forcing the hesitant horse onward. Branches whipped at his face as he entered the forest.

  The Rageler was fast. Too fast.

  It darted between trees, its silhouette flashing briefly whenever it crossed a sliver of moonlight. Then, with a powerful leap, it launched itself upward.

  Darius caught a glimpse of it clinging to a tree trunk, claws digging deep into bark. In the next instant it sprang again— branch to branch, tree to tree— moving above him at terrifying speed.

  “Damn you,” Darius hissed.

  His horse snorted nervously, slowing despite his commands, unwilling to charge blindly beneath snapping branches and falling debris. Darius leaned low, one hand tight in the reins, eyes straining upward as the Rageler flowed through the canopy with inhuman grace.

  It was not fleeing in panic. It was being drawn.

  The yellow gem beneath Darius’ sleeve pulsed once, then again. It was faint but insistent.

  Someone was near.

  And whatever had called the Rageler, Valiant or something far worse—he could not let the beast reach it.

  Realising the distance was growing, and that the Rageler was slipping away into the canopy, Darius drew a breath and spoke with strained authority.

  “[Reveal Armoury].”

  The forest air shimmered.

  His weapons burst into existence around him, floating in tight formation as his horse thundered forward. Even the sword already in his hand tore free and joined the orbit, momentarily startling the horse beneath him. Darius ignored it, eyes fixed upward.

  He reached out.

  The bow and quiver snapped into his grasp, and the rest of the armoury vanished at once.

  Darius drew an arrow as the horse surged beneath him. The movement threw his balance but he loosed the arrow anyway.

  It vanished uselessly into the branches.

  Darius cursed under his breath, nocked another, and fired again; too fast and too rushed. The arrow struck bark and splintered.

  Still, he did not stop.

  Arrow after arrow hissed into the dark as he rode, each shot steadier than the last. He slowed his breathing, remembered Karev’s voice, Meredith’s corrections, the feel of stillness before release.

  The Rageler leapt again, and this time, Darius anticipated it.

  He released…

  The arrow struck home with a wet, meaty thud, burying itself deep into the creature’s arm just as it reached for the next branch. The Rageler screeched and its grip failed.

  The branch cracked under its weight, snapping clean, and the beast slid violently down the trunk, tearing bark as it fell.

  Before it could recover, Darius fired again.

  The second arrow slammed into its neck.

  The Rageler hit the forest floor with a thunderous crash, leaves and dirt exploding outward as it landed.

  Darius hauled hard on the reins, bringing the horse to a skidding halt. He leapt down before it had fully stopped, boots striking the ground as he raised the bow once more.

  Without hesitation, he fired and the arrow drove into the beast’s skull.

  Another followed, then another; each one sinking deep, pinning the creature’s limbs and torso to the forest floor.

  The Rageler thrashed and its claws tore at earth and roots, but it could not rise. Its movements slowed and the growls devolved into broken, animal whimpers.

  Darius’ chest heaved as he stepped closer, blood dripping from his wounds onto the leaves below. His wrist burned beneath his sleeve, the violet gem pulsing faintly, as if urging him on.

  He dismissed the bow and summoned his blade.

  The sword slid into his hand, heavy and resolute.

  With a final breath, Darius raised it high.

  “For Favian” he whispered.

  He brought the blade down in a single, clean arc.

  The head rolled free, landing with a dull thud among the leaves. The Rageler’s body shuddered once… then lay still.

  Darius stood over it for a moment, sword hanging loose in his bloodied hand, and his chest rose and fell as the forest slowly reclaimed its sounds. Only then did he lower his blade in exhaustion.

  The beast was finally dead.

  Darius stood motionless, chest heaving as the last echoes of the fight drained from his limbs. Blood ran freely down his side, soaking into his tunic and dripping onto the forest floor.

  Before his eyes, the Rageler’s corpse began to change.

  Its scaled flesh broke apart, not rotting, not burning—but dissolving. It crumbled into fine ash, then into drifting smoke.

  Within seconds, nothing remained of the creature that had nearly torn him apart.

  Nothing… except something else.

  Floating where the Rageler had fallen was a small glass bottle, untouched by dirt or ash. Yellow smoke churned gently inside it, glowing faintly in the darkness.

  Darius blinked. “…Mend,” he breathed.

  Relief and disbelief washed over him at once. A Potion of the Mend— rare, precious, and invaluable. He did not hesitate. His hands moved on instinct as he snatched the bottle from the air, uncorked it, and inhaled deeply.

  The mist poured into his lungs and his pain vanished.

  The torn flesh across his chest knit together in an instant, skin sealing as though it had never been broken. The blood dried. Strength returned to his limbs, sudden and overwhelming.

  Darius corked the bottle quickly and weighed it in his palm. There was still some left.

  For Favian, he thought.

  Relief softened his face for the first time that night. He slipped the bottle into his tunic, exhaling slowly…

  …and froze.

  His wrist burned again.

  The yellow gem flared violently, pulsing with urgency. Darius’ head snapped up, muscles tightening as his gaze swept the forest.

  A Valiant was near.

  Darius did not retreat. Adrenaline surged anew, hot and unforgiving. His hand flexed, ready, eager. Whoever it was—one or many—he would not be caught off guard again.

  His eyes searched the trees.

  Then he saw it.

  High above, half-hidden by branches, a pair of eyes gleamed back at him.

  Darius summoned his armoury without a word. The bow snapped into his hands, the string already taut beneath his fingers. He aimed upward and released.

  The arrow flew true… but before it could strike, the figure dissolved into smoke.

  It scattered into the night air and vanished completely.

  Darius stood frozen, bow still raised, heart pounding. Slowly, he lowered the weapon and glanced down at his wrist.

  The yellow gem had gone dull.

  The red gem still glowed. So did the violet—static now and unmoving.

  Understanding settled over Darius.

  The static glow meant a kill had been completed. But his eyes lifted once more to the empty branches above.

  “What did I kill,” he whispered, “that still leaves the red alive?”

  The forest did not answer.

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