Lucian stood at the edge of the dense forest, the towering trees stretching high into the mist-covered sky. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else—something faint, yet undeniable. Blood.

  Father Aldric leaned on his staff beside him, his usual grin replaced by something far more serious.

  "Three days," Aldric said. "Three days to track, fight, and kill the beast that lurks within. Bring me its head, or at least something from its body to prove your victory. But be warned—this creature is not the only danger in these woods. You will be tested, Lucian. Mind, body, and soul."

  Lucian clenched his fists. He had trained for months under Aldric’s relentless guidance, refining his movements, sharpening his instincts, forging his Ascen. Now, he had to prove that training meant something.

  "And if I fail?" he asked.

  Aldric chuckled. "Then I’ll have to drag your half-dead body out of there, and you’ll start from the beginning. But I’d rather not. So don’t fail."

  Lucian exhaled and stepped forward. The trees swallowed him whole.

  The Forest of Beasts

  The deeper he ventured, the darker the forest became. The trees twisted unnaturally, their roots clawing through the dirt like grasping fingers. Sounds echoed through the underbrush—the scurrying of unseen creatures, the distant snap of branches, the low growl of something following him.

  He moved cautiously, each step deliberate. Aldric had drilled into him the importance of silence, of controlled breathing. His Ascen hummed within him, sharpening his senses. He could feel the forest breathing, shifting.

  Then, a snap.

  Lucian twisted just as something lunged from the shadows. A beast—a monstrous wolf-like creature, its fur a sickly gray, its eyes burning like embers. Its claws raked through the air, but Lucian was already moving. His body reacted faster than thought.

  He dodged, sliding under its lunge, his wooden training sword swinging upward. It struck the beast’s side with a crack, sending it staggering. But not down. It recovered too quickly, whirling to face him with a snarl.

  Lucian’s mind raced. It’s fast. Strong. But reckless.

  The beast lunged again, and this time, Lucian didn’t dodge. He stepped into the attack, lowering his stance. At the last moment, he twisted his torso, letting the claws graze past him, and drove his sword straight into the beast’s exposed flank.

  The impact sent a jarring vibration through his arms, but he didn’t let go. The wolf let out a strangled howl and collapsed. It twitched, then fell still.

  Lucian panted, staring at the corpse.

  That was just the beginning.

  A Predator’s Eyes

  As night fell, Lucian climbed into the branches of a gnarled tree, keeping his body still, his breathing controlled. Below, something massive prowled through the undergrowth. He didn’t need to see it—he could feel it.

  It knows I’m here.

  This wasn’t just some wild beast. This was intelligence. It was hunting him.

  Lucian tightened his grip on his weapon. If he waited too long, it would strike first. He needed to control the fight.

  He let his breath slow, letting his Ascen guide his body. His heartbeat steadied. He remembered Aldric’s lessons.

  Perceive everything.

  The wind shifted. The beast’s weight pressed into the earth. The flicker of moonlight off something wet—its teeth.

  Lucian moved.

  He leapt from the tree, landing silently behind the creature. It turned, massive, reptilian, with ridged spines running down its back. Its yellow eyes narrowed as it realized too late—Lucian was already attacking.

  He struck low, his blade flashing. The beast roared, swiping with a thick, clawed arm, but Lucian ducked, rolling beneath it. He slashed upward, severing tendons. The beast collapsed onto one knee, shrieking in pain.

  Lucian seized the opening. He sprinted forward, driving his sword into the base of its skull.

  Silence.

  He withdrew his blade, panting. His body ached, but something in him felt… alive. His Ascen pulsed, stronger than before. It was adapting. Growing.

  Lucian exhaled, looking at the fallen beast. He reached down and carved one of its claws free. A trophy. Proof.

  One day down.

  The Final Hunt

  By the third day, Lucian had fought and survived against the forest’s horrors. His movements had become instinctual, his perception razor-sharp. He was no longer just reacting. He was controlling.

  And now, it was time to face the true target.

  He followed the trail of destruction deeper into the forest. The signs were unmistakable—slashed trees, blood-soaked earth, half-devoured corpses. This creature wasn’t just hunting. It was killing for sport.

  Lucian stepped into a clearing. And there it was.

  A massive beast, unlike anything he had faced before. A fusion of muscle and malice, its fur dark and bristling with spikes. Eyes that burned like molten gold. Its breath came in ragged huffs, its claws coated in dried blood.

  Lucian’s grip tightened. This wasn’t a mindless monster. This was something ancient. Something that had survived in this forest for too long.

  The beast growled, stepping forward.

  Lucian exhaled. He stepped forward too.

  The battle began.

  ----------------------------------

  The beast struck first—faster than anything that size should be. Lucian barely ducked in time, the force of the swipe sending shockwaves through the air. He countered, slashing at its exposed flank, but the creature twisted, adapting just as fast as he was.

  Lucian rolled away, reassessing. He couldn’t just overpower it. He had to outthink it.

  He remembered Aldric’s words: The body follows the mind. If your mind is strong, your enemy’s strength means nothing.

  He needed to disrupt its rhythm.

  Lucian feinted left—then threw his sword at its face.

  The beast flinched, just for a fraction of a second.

  That was all Lucian needed.

  He lunged forward, drawing his blade in a single fluid motion, and drove it deep into the beast’s exposed throat.

  Lucian twisted the dagger deeper, but the creature’s reaction was violent. It roared, a guttural, primal sound that rattled the bones of the forest. The beast, Varr’gorath, the ancient terror of the woods, reached up with a clawed hand and grabbed Lucian by the arm, its grip like iron, crushing the bones beneath his skin. Lucian's breath caught in his throat as he was slammed into the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

  Pain flared in his arm, and for a moment, everything seemed to blur. His Ascen pulsed inside him, desperately trying to stabilize his breath, his body. Focus. Focus, Lucian! He couldn't let the pain control him—not now.

  Varr’gorath loomed over him, massive and unrelenting, the blood dripping from its jagged mouth as it lunged for him, its fangs gleaming in the moonlight. In a flash, Lucian's training kicked in. He couldn’t afford to rely on his weapon anymore. It’s stronger than steel.

  With a guttural growl, he used his legs to push against the beast’s chest, launching himself backward with a speed that defied his exhaustion. His sword—shattered in the struggle—lay forgotten in the dirt, but his hands were still there. His fists. His body.

  Lucian’s vision narrowed. The beast isn’t just a creature. It’s a predator. It wasn’t enough to outlast it. He had to think like it.

  Varr’gorath’s massive head swiveled to face him again, a snarling fury in its molten eyes. The beast’s next strike was swift, a blur of claws that cut through the air with terrifying speed. Lucian, relying on his instincts, ducked under the swipe, but the claws raked across his back. The sharpness of the attack was like fire, searing into his skin, but he didn’t flinch.

  He didn’t have the luxury of pain anymore.

  Lucian pressed his palm to the ground and pushed himself to his feet in a fluid motion, his Ascen guiding him as if it were an extension of his own will. His hand clenched, the familiar hum of the energy rippling under his skin. The dark, shimmering pulse of his power surged to the surface.

  This is it.

  The beast howled again, preparing for another attack. Its back arched, the muscles in its limbs tensing. It launched forward with terrifying force, slashing at Lucian’s chest with its claws.

  Lucian didn't dodge.

  Instead, he pivoted on his heel, taking the hit to his side—but only the side. The claws raked across his ribs, leaving deep gouges, but Lucian had anticipated it. His Ascen flared, shielding him from the worst of the damage, but the real strike came from his other fist.

  He unleashed a punch—his left fist—into the beast's exposed flank with a power he hadn’t known he could muster. Crack. The sound of ribs breaking echoed through the night. Varr’gorath roared in pain and fury, staggering back as Lucian pressed the advantage.

  Without missing a beat, Lucian launched himself forward again. His hands moved faster than his thoughts—each strike flowing like the rhythm of a battle he had been preparing for his entire life. He didn’t need a weapon now. His Ascen was his weapon. His mind was the blade. His body the strike.

  With a twisted growl, Varr’gorath lunged once more, swinging both claws in an arc to tear Lucian apart. Lucian dropped low, weaving between the claws, his body moving with fluid precision. He could feel the power of his Ascen flowing into his fists, every strike amplified with its force.

  He dodged again, this time flipping over the beast’s back, landing behind it with a roll. His hands—cracked and bloodied—were now as deadly as any weapon.

  Lucian wasn’t finished.

  He turned, his right fist glowing with the faint blue light of his Ascen, his mind clearing. This was the moment. One final blow.

  The beast had begun to turn, its back exposed for just an instant. Lucian gathered every ounce of his power, his heart and soul focused on the strike. His body moved on its own, driven by pure instinct and the guidance of his training. He sprang forward, his fist landing squarely against Varr’gorath’s spine.

  The impact was like a thunderclap.

  The beast’s spine cracked, a sickening sound of bone breaking and shifting under the force. Varr’gorath’s body stiffened. It howled, an agonizing wail that shook the ground beneath Lucian’s feet, but the fight was leaving it. Slowly, the beast collapsed to its knees, its molten eyes dimming, its breath ragged.

  Lucian stood, chest heaving, his Ascen humming, his fists still burning with the energy of his victory. But it wasn’t over. Not yet. He needed to finish it.

  He circled behind the beast as it tried to lift its head, attempting one last desperate swipe with its claws. Lucian grabbed its arm, twisting it with the force of his Ascen. The beast howled again, but the strike came too late. Lucian slammed his knee into the back of its skull with a brutal force. Crack. The creature’s head snapped forward.

  And then silence.

  Lucian stood over Varr’gorath, breathing heavily, his fists still glowing faintly from the power of his Ascen. His body ached with exhaustion, the pain of his wounds mixing with a strange satisfaction. He had done it.

  He had won.

  He looked down at the beast’s defeated body, his mind still racing. This wasn’t just a victory over a monster. It was a victory over his own doubts, over the trials that had pushed him to his limits. He had faced the beast and, in the end, become something more.

  A new silence stretched over the forest, but Lucian knew this was only one battle in the long war ahead.

  ----------------------------------

  Lucian emerged from the forest, his steps slow but steady, the severed head of Varr’gorath gripped tightly in his hand. The beast’s lifeless eyes still burned faintly with their molten glow, its massive jaw slack, deadly fangs glistening in the moonlight. Each step he took felt heavier, the weight of exhaustion creeping back into his body now that the battle was over.

  At the edge of the forest, Aldric sat in the same spot where Lucian had left him three days ago. His legs were crossed, his staff resting lightly against his shoulder, his eyes closed as if in deep meditation. He had not moved an inch.

  Lucian paused, his breath hitching. How is that even possible?

  Before he could speak, Aldric’s voice broke the silence, soft yet carrying a knowing amusement.

  “You actually did it.” His eyes slowly opened, glinting with quiet pride. “I must admit, I wasn’t sure you’d pull it off.”

  Lucian let out a breath—half a laugh, half disbelief. He wanted to say something, to question how Aldric knew, to ask if he had really been aware of everything from the outside. But before the words could leave his lips, the full weight of his exhaustion crashed over him like a tidal wave.

  His vision blurred, his limbs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

  Aldric sighed, shaking his head as he pushed himself up. With slow, deliberate steps, he walked over and crouched beside Lucian. The young warrior’s breath was ragged, his body trembling from the sheer strain of what he had endured. Aldric placed a firm hand on Lucian’s back, closing his eyes as he felt the pulse of his Ascen.

  Then, he frowned.

  It was different. Stronger. Deeper. More refined. The growth was staggering. It wasn’t just a minor improvement—it was as if Lucian had tapped into something far beyond what he should have been capable of at this stage.

  A smirk tugged at Aldric’s lips as he muttered to himself, “It might be sooner than I thought… for you to wield the weapon inside of you.”

  His grip tightened slightly, feeling the hum of potential beneath his palm.

  “A Relicarn.”

  The night wind stirred, carrying Aldric’s words into the darkness as he looked down at his student—his pride evident in the sharp glint of his eyes.