Weak, wounded, and nearly blind with exhaustion, she tried to rise—but her body refused. She collapsed back onto the rocky ground, clutching the baby to her chest.
The wolf advanced slowly, deliberate and predatory. Through the haze of her tears and pain, she gathered what strength remained. She raised a trembling hand, fingers glowing with orange light, and pointed at the wolf.
"Stay… away…" she gasped.
The wolf lunged.
A thick orange beam shot from her fingertip, striking the wolf mid‑leap. The creature dropped to the ground, its massive body collapsing in a lifeless heap.
For a moment, there was silence—then the baby giggled again, a soft, joyful sound that seemed almost impossible amid the terror. Her heart ached at that sound. How could a newborn laugh like that?
But she had no time to wonder. The last magic beam she fired drained the last bit of energy from her body. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision. She fought to stay awake to protect her child, but her body gave out.
The last thing she saw were the glowing red eyes of more wolves as they entered the cave.
Six more wolves entered the gave, the baby lokked at them as if watching an interesting cartoon. they circled the child, their growls low and threatening. The baby giggled again, and as the sound echoed through the cave, with it the storm raiged again Outside for a moment before a heavy silence fell. the storm stilled across the forest as if commanded—rain froze mid-fall, lightning hung motionless in the sky. It was as if the the child's laughter suspending time.
The wolves stared at the baby, their glowing red eyes softening to warm brown. As if entranced, they turned away and walked to the cave's entrance. There, they sat—calm, watchful—guarding the child as if nothing else mattered.
Time passed.
Then came another roar.
A tall, gaunt man appeared at the mouth of the cave, draped in a black bear-fur cloak and gripping a thick tree branch like a staff. His glowing red eyes swept the cave in disbelief and rising fury. His voice thundered, "How? Who did this? No beast tamer has ever turned my wolves against me!"
The wolves circled him now, baring their teeth. But he only smiled—cruel and unbothered. "You think you can defy me?" he snarled, raising the tree branch.
With a crack of power, a massive Giant golden lion burst forth, shaking the cave with each heavy step. The ground trembled beneath its paws as it roared, loud enough to rattle the stone walls. The wolves whimpered, shrinking back, their earlier defiance dissolving as they bowed in submission.
The lion's golden fur gleamed, its massive body barly fit throw the cave entrance as it stepped forward. loomed over the child, unmoving. But the baby only giggled and reached out, tiny fingers curling into the lion's thick mane.
The tall man approached, standing beside the beast. His eyes dropped to the unconscious woman on the ground. His sneer was filled with contempt.
"Princess Laura," he said. "How far you've fallen. The most powerful witch I've ever known—reduced to this. Dying in a cave, unable to protect her own child."
With a flick of his hand, the man ordered the lion to strike.
The beast let out a deafening roar that shook the cave, the sound bouncing off the walls like thunder. Then it pounced—not at Laura, but at him.
Before he could react, the lion turned on its master. In a blur of motion, its massive jaws clamped around him, tearing through him with terrifying force. He didn't even have time to scream. His final thought was disbelief:
How?
How could this happen?
My greatest beast... betrayed me.
The lion's glowing red eyes faded to a calm brown as it released his lifeless body. Then, without a sound, it turned its gaze back to the child.
There was no rage in its eyes—only calm reverence, as though it recognized something greater than itself.
The lion padded toward the cave entrance, slow and regal, and lay down just beyond the child, licking its golden fur with quiet dignity.
Laura, barely conscious, felt the world slipping away. Her body gave in, but her mind drifted, pulled into a memory… of how it all began.
Flashback:
Long before that night, the warrior race ruled half the world.
Their king, once noble, had fallen under the influence of General Olaf—a ruthless warlord who commanded the warrior armies with an iron fist. Convinced that only his people could bring justice and order, the king launched brutal campaigns against the other races.
His son, Prince Johan, stood against him.
He begged his father to stop. "Another war will not bring peace—it will bring ruin."
But defiance came at a price. Enraged, the king imprisoned his son in the void dungeon, a place from which no one returned.
Meanwhile, the sorcerer king forged secret alliances—with the blood elves, the fire demons, and the druids. Together, they devised a plan. For when a warrior died, his strength, skill, and life essence passed to his kin. If they eliminated all warriors in one sweep, their bloodline would fall with them.
So they cast a single, devastating spell to wipe out the warrior race.
And it worked.
The warriors were all but annihilated.
All but one.
Johan, locked in the void, inherited the power of every fallen warrior. The sheer weight of their strength broke the prison around him. When he emerged, he was no longer the same.
He was unstoppable.
The alliance panicked. They sent their finest to end him—but Johan slaughtered thousands alone. Then, he vanished into the Ancestor's Woods, a place where even the boldest feared to tread.
But Laura did not fear.
Princess of the sorcerers, the most powerful witch of her kind, she was sent to finish the job.
But when she found Johan, she did not kill him.
She fell in love with him.
Together, they disappeared from the world, choosing peace over bloodshed.
They lived in secret among the trees.
But peace does not last.
Nine months later, with Laura heavy with child, they were discovered.
Her brother, Garen—prince of the sorcerers—had found a way into the forbidden forest. He came with an army. to end what the war had begun.
Knowing Johan's strength, Garen didn't come alone. He arrived with ten elite heroes and hundreds of soldiers—warriors trained for one purpose: to kill the last of the warrior bloodline. he also brought a secret weapon: a magical stone containing the Alliance's greatest spell—the very one they developed and used to wipe out the entire warrior race.
Laura couldn't fight them. Not her brother. Not her own people.
And Johan… he couldn't bring himself to kill Garen in front of his wife.
Garen stepped forward, voice calm, almost diplomatic. "Surrender," he said, "and we'll spare Laura. She can return as a princess of the sorcerer. We will even accept your unborn child into the royal family."
Johan looked at Laura, then at the child growing inside her. He saw hope in her eyes. A future. Peace. Family.
And so, he surrendered.
But the moment he dropped to his knees, Garen betrayed them.
With a cruel smile, he invoked the Alliance's great spell—and killed Johan before Laura's eyes.
Her scream tore through the forest, a cry of pain deeper than magic itself.
At that same moment, the pain of childbirth struck her with full force. Collapsing to her knees, she clutched her stomach, gasping.
Garen's voice rang out, cold and sharp: "Kill the traitor and her unborn child!"
But Laura was faster.
Faster than any spell. Faster than their blades.
With a burst of desperate magic, she vanished into the woods. Her shield spell shattered under a rain of attacks, but she kept running, blood trailing behind her, shielding the child with everything she had left.
Then came Arwan.
The great beast tamer. The leader of the assassins.
He summoned his silver wolves, the only creatures fast enough to catch her.
And so began the legend of Kira.