The sun had barely touched the treetops when the hunters gathered at the village edge. This time it was different. No small group. No quiet departure. Fifteen men stood in formation, checking their weapons, tightening their armor, speaking in low, serious voices.
Anton stood near the front, his heart beating steady but fast. He had slept only a few hours, his mind too busy planning. Now his body felt tight, ready, but also tired already. The walk to the eastern ridge would take two hours. Then the fighting would start. He needed to save his strength.
Varren walked down the line, inspecting his men. The big leader looked strong again, his wounds healed enough to fight. He carried a heavy spear with a metal blade that caught the light.
"Listen," Varren said, his voice carrying to everyone. "Today we do not run. Today we hunt. But we hunt smart. Scouts go first. Fire teams stay back. Net carriers watch the sides. We move as one body, not separate men."
He stopped in front of Anton. "Kael, you lead the scouts. Move ahead, find the beasts, come back. Do not fight alone. Information first."
"I understand," Anton said.
"Good. Move out."
The group started walking. The forest was quiet at first, but as they moved deeper, the sounds changed. Birds stopped singing. The wind seemed still. Anton walked fifty meters ahead of the main group, his feet finding soft ground so he made no noise.
His body felt good at first. The morning air was cool. His legs moved easily. But after the first hour of walking and checking paths, he started to feel it. A small tiredness in his thighs. A dryness in his mouth. He drank water from his skin bag, but the feeling stayed.
"Save your energy," he told himself. "Do not run yet. Walk. Just walk."
He found the first signs near the ridge base. Deep claw marks in a tree trunk. Fresh ones. The sap was still wet. He touched the marks and felt how deep they went. These were bigger than before.
He moved forward carefully, crouching low. The smell hit him next. Strong, like metal and wet dog, but sharper. Blood smell. Lots of it.
Anton climbed a small hill and looked down into the narrow valley. His eyes opened wide.
Below, in the shadow of the rocks, he counted them. Not four. Not six. Ten grey shapes moving between the boulders. And they were doing something strange. They were sitting still, watching the paths, like soldiers waiting for orders.
"This is bad," Anton whispered.
He moved back quickly, his legs carrying him down the hill faster than he should have run. He needed to tell Varren. The beasts were organized. They were ready.
He reached the main group breathing hard, his chest rising and falling too fast.
"Varren," he said, trying to keep his voice low. "There are more than we thought. Ten at least. Maybe more hidden. They are waiting for us. They know the path."
Varren's face became serious. "Ten? You are sure?"
"I counted ten," Anton said. "They are not roaming. They are standing guard. Like they know we are coming."
The other hunters looked at each other. Some looked scared. Dorn stepped forward.
"We have fifteen men," Dorn said. "Good odds if we are smart."
"Change of plan," Varren said. "Tighter formation. Shields in front. Spears behind. We push through the narrow path fast. Do not let them surround us."
They moved again, slower now, more careful. Anton stayed ahead, but closer to the group. His legs burned a little from running back. He ignored it.
They reached the ridge.
The attack came without warning.
A grey shape burst from the left rocks. Then another from the right. The Ironhide Stalkers moved like lightning, low and fast, their claws digging into the dirt.
"Shields!" Varren shouted.
The hunters raised their wooden shields. Metal claws hit wood with a crash. The force pushed men back, but the line held.
"Spears!" Varren called.
Three hunters thrust forward. One spear bounced off thick hide. Another hit a beast in the shoulder, making it scream. The third struck true, hitting a neck. Blood sprayed.
Anton moved to the side, his spear ready. A beast turned to him, eyes glowing. It lunged. Anton stepped back, using his speed, and struck at the creature's back leg where the hide was thinner. His blade cut deep.
The beast turned, angry, but Dorn was there. His heavy spear came down on the beast's head, killing it.
"Good strike," Dorn grunted.
More beasts came. The battle became loud and messy. Men shouted. Beasts roared. Dust filled the air.
Anton moved between the fighters, striking when he saw a chance, running when a beast turned on him. He used only Minor Mastery now, saving his strength. Even so, his breathing became heavy. Sweat ran down his back. His arms felt heavy holding the spear.
A young hunter named Jef got separated from the group. A beast cornered him against a rock. Jef raised his spear, but he was shaking.
"Help!" Jef cried.
Anton ran. His legs pumped hard, eating the distance. He reached Jef and grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him away just as claws hit the rock where Jef had stood.
"Stay behind me," Anton said.
He faced the beast, moving side to side, keeping its attention. When it lunged, Anton was already gone, moving behind it. He stabbed quickly at the back leg, then jumped back.
Dorn and Mak arrived, and together they killed the creature.
"Thanks," Jef said, his face white.
"Stay with the group," Anton said, breathing hard. "Do not wander."
The fighting continued. Two beasts lay dead. Then three. The hunters were winning, but it cost them. Two men had deep cuts on their arms. Another had a broken shield and bruised ribs.
Then everything went quiet.
The remaining beasts stopped attacking. They backed away, making space in the center of the battleground. The wind stopped. The dust settled.
A sound came from the rocks. Heavy steps. Slow. Deliberate.
The beasts lowered their heads, almost like they were bowing.
It walked into the clearing.
The Alpha.
It was huge. Bigger than the others by half. Its shoulders were as wide as a door. Its hide was not grey but black, thick and shiny like metal. When it breathed, the sound was like a drum.
It looked at the hunters with eyes that were too aware. Not animal panic. Calculation.
"Back," Varren said softly. "Everyone back. Now."
The Alpha did not rush. It walked forward, each step pressing deep into the dirt. It passed its smaller kin and stopped ten meters from the hunters.
Varren stepped forward, his heavy spear ready. "Form line. Do not break."
The Alpha looked at Varren. Then it moved.
Fast. So fast.
One moment it was standing still. The next, it was in front of Varren. Its paw struck out. Varren raised his shield, and the wood exploded into pieces. The force knocked Varren off his feet, sending him rolling backward.
"Varren!" Dorn shouted.
The Alpha turned, looking for the next target. It saw Anton.
Anton felt a cold feeling in his stomach. The beast was staring at him. It recognized him as the fast one.
The Alpha charged.
Anton ran.
He sprinted away from the group, leading the beast toward the rocks. He needed to buy time. He needed to let the others regroup.
His legs burned. His lungs burned. He pushed himself hard, using Minor Mastery, running faster than any normal man. But the Alpha was faster.
He could hear it behind him. Breathing. Steps getting closer.
Anton turned sharply around a big boulder. The Alpha followed, its claws scraping stone. It was gaining. Five meters. Four meters.
Anton needed more speed.
He made a decision.
Major Mastery.
Power flooded his legs. The world blurred. He shot forward like an arrow, leaving the Alpha behind for just a moment.
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stamina: 3(-1)/5
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He ran up a slope, jumped over a fallen log, and kept going. After 60 seconds, he let go of the Major Mastery. The power faded, leaving his legs feeling like jelly.
He looked back. The Alpha had stopped at the bottom of the slope, confused by the sudden burst of speed. It was looking around, trying to find him.
Anton's chest heaved. He could not get enough air. His legs shook. That ten seconds of Major Mastery had cost him dearly. He felt like he had run a whole day in that short time.
But he was not done.
He waved his arms and shouted. "Here! Come here!"
The Alpha saw him and charged up the slope.
Anton ran again, forcing his tired legs to move. He led the beast in a circle, staying just ahead of its claws. His speed was slower now. His body was heavy.
He passed near the hunters. "Varren! Now! Attack it now!"
Varren was back on his feet, though bleeding from his shoulder. He understood. "Surround it! Move!"
The hunters spread out, trying to trap the Alpha. But the beast was too smart. It stopped chasing Anton and turned to face the men, not letting them get behind it.
The battle became a dance of death. The hunters struck and moved back. The Alpha turned and struck, killing one man instantly with a blow that crushed his chest.
Anton watched from the side, his hands on his knees, trying to breathe. His vision swam. He was so tired. But he had to help.
He picked up his spear and moved in again.
The Alpha was slowing. Not much, but a little. It had chased Anton too long. It had fought too many men.
"Keep moving!" Anton shouted, his voice hoarse. "Make it turn! Do not let it rest!"
The hunters listened. They attacked from different sides, forcing the beast to spin around constantly. It roared in frustration.
Varren saw the opening. He charged from the front, his heavy spear aimed at the beast's chest. The Alpha blocked with its paw, but the blade cut deep into the leg.
The beast stumbled.
"Now!" Varren screamed.
Anton saw the chance. The Alpha's neck was exposed for just a second.
He ran forward. His legs felt like they were made of stone. Every step hurt. His lungs screamed for air. But he ran.
He needed more speed. One more burst.
He grabbed the last of his strength and pushed again.
Major Mastery. Second time.
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Stamina: 1.5(-1)/5
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The power came, but it felt weaker this time. His body was too tired. Still, it was enough.
He became a blur. He leaped into the air, his spear pointed down, and drove the blade into the Alpha's neck, right where the hide was thinnest.
The spear went deep. Blood sprayed hot across Anton's hands.
The Alpha roared and shook its head. Anton was thrown backward, losing his grip on the spear. He hit the ground hard, rolling, his body screaming in pain.
The Alpha staggered. It tried to reach the spear in its neck, but could not. It coughed blood. Then, slowly, like a falling tree, it collapsed.
Silence.
Anton lay on his back, staring at the sky. His chest moved up and down, but each breath was hard work. His arms felt empty, like the muscles had been removed. His legs shook uncontrollably. He tried to sit up, but his body would not listen
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Warning stamina to low, body function halted
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"Kael!" Someone was calling his name, but it sounded far away.
Footsteps running. Dorn's face appeared above him, worried.
"Kael, are you hurt? Speak to me!"
"Spear," Anton whispered. His throat was dry as sand. "Is it dead?"
"It is dead," Dorn said. "You killed it. But you... you look terrible."
Anton tried to smile, but his face was too tired. He could not lift his head. The world spun slowly around him. Black spots danced in his vision.
Varren appeared, limping badly. His face was pale, but his eyes were wide with wonder. "That speed," he said. "That last strike... I have never seen anything like it."
"Water," Anton croaked.
Someone put a water skin to his lips. He drank, spilling half of it down his chin. The cool water helped, but his body still felt broken.
"He is exhausted," Mak said. "Look at him. He is shaking."
"Carry him," Varren ordered. "Gently. We need to get back to the village. Now."
Dorn and Mak lifted Anton together. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled immediately. There was no strength left. None. He had used it all. The two brief bursts of Major Mastery had taken everything, draining his stamina until he was empty.
As they carried him, Anton's head rolled back. He saw the sky, blue and peaceful. He heard the other hunters talking, their voices excited, amazed. They had won. The Alpha was dead. The beasts were scattered.
But Anton could not celebrate. He could barely keep his eyes open. His body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Even his thoughts were slow, muddy.
"Rest now," Dorn said quietly. "You earned it."
Anton closed his eyes. The darkness was warm and welcoming. He let himself fall into it, knowing he had pushed too far, knowing he had revealed too much, but knowing also that they had survived.
The last thing he felt was the sun on his face as the hunters carried him home.
Behind them, the other men dragged the Alpha's huge body. Proof of their victory. Proof of the day a scout became a legend.
But Anton did not see it. He was already asleep, his body finally shutting down after being pushed past every limit.
He would sleep for a day and a night. And when he woke, everything would be different.