Leo groaned through clenched teeth, pain flaring from his thigh. Blood oozed down his leg, warm and thick, pooling into the forest floor. The beast loomed over him muzzle soaked in gore, jagged teeth bared inches from his face.
Leo shoved at the saberfang's massive chest, but the creature didn't budge. Its weight pressed down like a mountain, muscles coiled with unrelenting strength. Its breath was rancid, hot against his cheek.
Then—steel flashed.
A blade pierced through the beast's thick neck from behind. The saberfang let out a strangled growl, body jerking once before collapsing, limp and heavy. Blood sprayed across Leo's face, warm and metallic, nearly forcing its way down his throat.
Leo coughed, grimacing as he pushed the corpse off. Above him stood Matthew, chest heaving, golden-brown hair clinging to his face with sweat and grime. Bruises marred his skin, and a long gash painted his side red.
He offered his hand with a crooked grin. "You're welcome."
Leo took it, gripping tight. "What took you so long?"
"Had to dance with one of its buddies first," Matthew said, hauling him up. Leo winced as pain shot up his leg. "Where's El?"
Before Matthew could answer, a deafening boom split the air. Not fire but something stranger. A concussive wave of wind shook the trees.
Both of them turned toward the sound.
Limping, Leo leaned on Matthew as they moved. The foliage gave way to scorched earth and shattered branches. Two saberfangs lay dead—one cleaved cleanly in half, the other with El's blade still embedded in its skull.
El sat beneath a tree, head back, eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps. Her leather breastplate was torn, streaked with blood and dirt. She looked worse than both of them combined.
"El!" they shouted.
Matthew dropped beside her and shook her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
El lifted a trembling hand. "Just… let me rest for a bit," she mumbled, her eyes still closed.
Relief washed over Leo. He collapsed beside the others.
That night, under the fractured canopy and silver stars, the three of them sat around a small bonfire. The smoke curled upward like a quiet offering to the heavens. Behind them, the saberfang corpses loomed in shadow proof of their survival.
El crushed herbs into paste, her fingers stained green as she worked them into Leo's wound. He winced, gritting his teeth.
"Easy, will you?"
She didn't even glance at him. "It needs to be treated. Or would you prefer infection?"
"Ouch! That stings!"
"Good. That means it's working."
Matthew poked at the fire, his expression contemplative. "We actually beat them. Four saberfangs. Not bad for a bunch of rookies."
"Not alone," El said, still tending to Leo's leg. "We had each other. And they may be ranked lower than the swordbear, but in packs, they're no less deadly."
Leo exhaled sharply. "Feels like the only reason we survived was dumb luck."
"No," she replied, looking up. "It was teamwork. If we fought the swordbear like that, it might've ended differently."
Matthew raised a brow. "So… how do we reach that level again?"
El smiled not kindly, but with a glint of challenge in her eyes. "We fight more monsters."
Leo groaned. "Great. Can't wait."
She applied more paste to his wound, and he hissed in pain. She didn't apologize.
"First, we return to Tavon. You need to heal," she said, eyes locking with his. "It'd be hard to have a liability in the next battle."
He rolled his eyes. "So once I stop bleeding out, it's back to monster hunting?"
"Yes."
Matthew wandered over to one of the saberfang corpses, nudging it with his foot. "You know… now that I think about it, why didn't we run into one of these on our first night here?"
They all looked at each other remembering what they encountered, the illusion and the horror, it gave them shivered down their spine.
With an awkward cough "Well I'm just saying if we encountered these, surely be dead especially with our lack of knowledge in fighting" Matt said lighting the mood
The fire crackled beside them. And in that moment, amidst blood, ash, and bruises, they remembered what it meant to feel human again.
It took the entire day to drag the saberfang bodies back to Tavon's hut. Along the way, scavengers tried to snatch their prize. Some they chased off. Others? Now part of the growing pile of corpses tied to ropes and dragged behind them.
The forest eventually gave way to cultivated fields, rows of vegetables swaying in the breeze. The sight brought with it a sense of peace.
Smoke curled from Tavon's chimney.
They reached the door, covered in dirt and blood, dragging half a dozen beasts behind them. The door creaked open and there he was.
Old Man Tavon turned from the stove, eyes landing on the battered trio. His brow rose at the monstrous haul behind them.
"What took you so long?" he said, amused.
Matthew and El dragged the bodies forward.
"Four saberfangs," Tavon muttered, impressed. "You brought more than I asked. Overachievers."
He stepped closer to inspect them—but recoiled with a grimace, pinching his nose.
"Gods. Before you even think about food, wash yourselves."
They sniffed. They agreed.
At the river, the trio stripped down just enough to wash. The cold water bit at their skin but it was a small price to pay for the cleansing feeling.
"This is heaven," Matthew sighed, floating on his back.
Leo eased into the water, flinching as it met his bandaged leg. "Speak for yourself."
Then—splash.
A cannonball.
El surfaced with a grin, floating lazily on her back, her modest tunic and shorts soaked. Water glistened on her skin under the moonlight.
"Hey!" Leo shouted. "Careful, my wound!"
El just smirked, then splashed water in his face.
Matthew joined in with a laugh. Soon, the river was alive with splashes and shouts.
Leo was dragged into their chaotic play, limbs flailing.
For a while, they forgot the monsters. The danger. The weight of what awaited them beyond the forest.
They were just three kids again—laughing under the stars.
And for that fleeting moment… It was enough.
The trio slept better than they had in days. No howling winds, no dirt-caked backs, no monsters stalking the treeline. Just warmth, solid ground, and a roof over their heads.
It felt like heaven.
The next day passed quietly. Time slowed, letting their bodies rest and wounds begin to heal.
By the morning of the second day, the hut stirred to life. El stood in the clearing behind Tavon's home, her blade carving arcs in the air with surgical precision. She moved like smoke and fire—graceful, unyielding. Sweat glistened on her brow, but her expression remained focused.
Matthew rolled his shoulders, stretching, preparing for his usual routine—but before he could even lift his sword, a gravelly voice cut through the air.
"Matthew."
He turned. "Yes, old man?"
Tavon stepped into the clearing, arms crossed, eyes narrowed—not unkindly. "I heard you took down one of the saberfangs."
Matthew rubbed the back of his neck, bashful. "Yeah. But it's nothing compared to what El did out there."
From her corner, El didn't pause, only smirked mid-swing.
Tavon shook his head. "Nah. Don't compare yourself to her. She's got years more experience. Fighting and killing a saberfang on your own is impressive, no matter how you frame it." He glanced back toward the porch. "No offense, Leo."
Leo, still reclining with a bandage wrapped around his thigh, gave a thumbs-up. "None taken."
"The sword just isn't your path, Leo," Tavon said, his voice soft but certain. "You've got something else ahead of you."
"I know," Leo replied, staring at the sky with a tired smile. "Doesn't stop it from stinging, though."
Tavon nodded, then returned his gaze to Matthew, stepping closer. "Now, as I was saying—there's still a wide gap between you and El, in terms of form, reflex, instinct… but."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "But?"
"But," Tavon said, smiling, "you've got the persistence. The drive. That's worth more than raw talent any day."
El, still twirling her blade, chimed in with a teasing note in her voice. "If you actually try, that is."
Matthew chuckled awkwardly. "Trying. Got it."
He turned back to Tavon. "So… what are you saying, old man?"
Tavon's eyes gleamed, and there was something fiery in his voice now.
"I think you're ready for an upgrade."
Matthew blinked. "You mean—?"
"Yes," Tavon said with a nod. "It's time you learn my way of the sword. The Scorching Sword."
For a second, Matthew said nothing. Then his eyes widened, mouth parting into a huge grin. "You're serious?"