The silence of the canyon was shattered. The Gravewind Howlers didn't growl; they breathed in heavy, rhythmic huffs that vibrated in the damp air. The Alpha stood at the center, a mountain of charcoal fur and muscle, its molten orange eyes locked onto Kael. It was calculating whether the scrap of metal in his hand was worth the effort of a kill.
Kael didn’t hesitate. He knew from years on the track that when a collision is coming, you don't wait for it to hit you—you pick your line and commit.
As the two smaller Howlers lunged from the flanks, Kael didn't just move; he felt the mana in his blood kick like a turbocharger. He’d spent months practicing this in the Ministry’s dark halls, but this was different. This was the real redline.
He funneled the energy into his legs and spine, feeling his muscles pull taut like high-tension cables.
“Come on,” he thought, his vision narrowing until the world seemed to slow down. “Give me the speed.”
The world didn't actually slow, but his reaction time did. He saw the first Howler’s paws leave the mud. In his mind, it was just like watching a rival driver try to dive-bomb an inside corner. He knew exactly where the beast’s momentum was going to carry it.
Kael pivoted on his heel, the wet rocks slick beneath his boots. With his mana-boosted agility, he moved with a blur of motion that shouldn't have been possible for a human. He drove the butt of his Black-Vine glaive upward, catching the first scout mid-air right under its jaw.
The impact vibrated up his arms, but with his body reinforced by mana, his bones held steady. The beast was tossed aside like a rag doll, splashing into the shallow stream.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
But the Alpha was already on him. It was a black wall of fur and fangs, moving with a terrifying, low-slung power.
Kael triggered the spring-release on his glaive. The "Clack-Hiss" of the blade extending was the only warning. He didn't try to match the Alpha’s strength—he used its own weight against it. He dropped low, his mana-strengthened knees taking the strain as he slid beneath the Alpha’s reach, trailing the glowing edge of his blade across the predator's lead shoulder.
A spray of dark blood hit the frost. The Alpha landed heavily, skidding on the rocks with a pained, guttural roar.
Kael stood up, his breath coming in hot, controlled bursts. The "Blue Fire" static from the canyon was starting to arc between his glaive and his fingertips, making the weapon's dark weave hum. He looked the Alpha in the eye, his expression as cold as the glacial water at his feet.
"I've hit walls at two hundred miles an hour and walked away," Kael said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "You're just a dog with a bad attitude. You want to keep going, or are we done?"
The Alpha scrambled to its feet, its left limb dragging. It looked at its wounded pack-mate, then at the human who moved like a lightning strike. In the wild, predators don't take bad bets. Seeing the glowing blade and the unnatural stillness in Kael’s posture, the Alpha let out a sharp, retreating bark.
The pack dissolved into the fog as quickly as they had appeared, leaving nothing but the scent of ozone and iron behind.
The adrenaline began to recede, leaving Kael’s muscles aching from the mana-overclock. He turned slowly toward the water’s edge.
The Zephyrix Drake was still there. It hadn't bolted. It was standing tall, its feathered crest vibrating so fast it hummed. It had watched Kael fight—not with the clumsy desperation of a normal human, but with the same ruthless efficiency the Drake used to navigate the winds.
Kael didn't reach for his tethers. He didn't even point his weapon. He just sat down on a nearby boulder, resting his glaive across his lap, and waited.
"Scary, right?" Kael muttered, looking at the beast. "They're fast, but they don't know how to take a corner. You and me... we're different."
The Drake took one tentative step forward, its teal-green eyes locked onto the human who had just rewritten the rules of the canyon.
