The mist clung low to the forest floor as the sun began to sink beyond the horizon. Fading orange light filtered weakly through the trees, stretching shadows into long, distorted shapes.

  Flint stepped forward.

  Perched atop the massive Shadowclaw, the rider looked down at him with narrowed eyes.

  “Flint… I know you’re loyal to the King,” he said calmly, “but this is a different game entirely. You’d be wise to stay back.”

  Flint didn’t slow his stride.

  “I’m not sure I follow. What exactly are you talking about?”

  The rider’s lips curled.

  “Are you ignoring the order of the Veils?”

  The name hung in the air. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.

  Rudra, leaning weakly against a broken tree with his useless arm dangling, felt something shift. He didn’t understand the meaning of that name—but he could feel its weight.

  Flint’s expression remained calm.

  “No,” he said simply.

  Then he vanished. A streak of silver cut through the mist. In one seamless motion, he drew his blade.

  “Mistoholic Cut!”

  Steel sliced through the fading light. The Shadowclaw split cleanly down the center. It did not bleed. Its enormous form unraveled into vapor, dissolving into swirling grey smoke.

  The rider let out a sharp cry as he tumbled from his vanishing throne, crashing into the dirt. He rolled and sprang to his feet, irritation flashing in his eyes.

  “You’re making a mistake, Flint!”

  “Run,” Flint said quietly. “Before I truly slash you.”

  The rider’s expression twisted.

  “Shadow Formation: Shadow Claws!”

  From the lengthening shadows of the trees, jagged claws burst outward. Dozens at first—then more—forming a tightening circle around Flint.

  Flint’s gaze sharpened slightly.

  “Without a controller, these beasts are mindless,” he said calmly. “With one… they become weapons.”

  The claws shrieked as they lunged. Flint deflected the first with a precise turn of his wrist. The second grazed his shoulder, tearing cloth and drawing a thin line of blood. A third shot straight for his throat.

  “Behind you!” Rudra shouted.

  Too late. The ground beneath Flint split open. A massive spike of shadow erupted upward, aimed directly at his heart.

  Flint’s eyes sharpened. He exhaled slowly.

  “Haze Smash.”

  He raised his sword toward the darkening sky. The mist above thickened into a crushing canopy. The air grew heavy. Leaves trembled. Branches groaned under invisible pressure.

  Then Flint brought his blade down. The haze slammed into the earth like a descending mountain. The forest shook violently. The shadow spike shattered inches from Flint’s chest. The circling claws disintegrated instantly under the crushing force.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  When the mist settled, only silence remained. Twilight had fully claimed the clearing.

  The rider staggered backward, breathing heavily. His earlier confidence had fractured.

  “You still don’t understand what you’re interfering with,” he hissed. “The Veils will not tolerate this.”

  Flint stepped forward again, calm as ever.

  “Then tell him to come himself.”

  The rider’s eyes darkened—not with courage, but calculation.

  “This isn’t over.”

  Shadows rippled at his feet. Darkness crawled up his body like living smoke. In the next second, he melted into it completely, slipping between the trees as if the forest itself had swallowed him.

  The mist drifted quietly through the clearing. He was gone… for now.

  Flint stood still for a few seconds longer. He knew better than to trust silence. Then he turned toward Rudra.

  “Are you able to stand?”

  Rudra straightened immediately, forcing pride into his voice.

  “That was my prey. I had it under control.”

  Flint raised an eyebrow.

  “With a broken right hand?”

  Rudra hesitated.

  “Yes. I’m very strong,” he insisted weakly. “He was just warming up.”

  “A warm-up that nearly ended you?” Flint said. Rudra went quiet.

  Flint turned and began walking toward the road leading to town.

  After two steps—

  “Hey! Wait!” Rudra called.

  Flint paused but didn’t look back.

  “That was a joke,” Rudra muttered. “Can you… help me?”

  Flint allowed himself the faintest smile.

  “Of course.”

  As they moved toward the road, something shifted behind them. Far between the trees, a thin ripple of shadow slid across a trunk. Watching.

  Flint’s eyes flicked slightly to the side—just once. He did not react. If the shadow was still there… it was choosing not to attack. Good. Let it watch.

  For a brief moment, a pair of dim, fading eyes opened in the forest. Then closed. The darkness stilled completely. The shadow did not follow. Not tonight.

  By the time they reached the medical camp outside town, night had fully settled. Lantern light flickered against rows of white tents. The scent of herbs and medicine filled the air.

  Dhruv was already seated, his fractured leg tightly braced. Lucia stood beside him.

  “Rudra!” Dhruv said, relief softening his calm expression. “What happened?”

  Rudra’s confidence returned instantly.

  “You won’t believe it. I fought that shadow guy… and I won.”

  Flint stared at him without expression. Rudra leaned closer and whispered urgently,

  “Please. Don’t expose me. He’ll never let me live it down.”

  Dhruv examined him carefully.

  “Well… your arm and your face are telling a very different story.”

  “You don’t believe your best friend?”

  “No.” Flint sighed and helped Rudra sit down. Rudra yelped immediately.

  “Ouch! Watch it!”

  “I feel very sorry for you,” Flint said to Dhruv.

  Dhruv nodded solemnly.

  “I’ve been handling him for five years.”

  “Five years?” Flint repeated.

  “Yes.” Flint looked at Rudra, then back at Dhruv.

  “…I truly respect you.”

  The tent flap burst open suddenly.

  “Dhruv! Where is my baby?!” Anos rushed inside, scanning every bed until he spotted his son.

  “My baby! Are you hurt?”

  “Dad…” Dhruv muttered, his face turning red. “I’m fifteen.”

  “To me, you are always my baby.” Laughter spread through the tent.

  Anos noticed Flint and immediately wrapped him in a crushing embrace.

  “My friend! I’m surprised to see you here!”

  “We were sent together from Royal Town,” Flint groaned. “We met this morning. This is called brotherhood!”

  Then Anos turned toward Lucia with a mischievous grin.

  “And my daughter-in-law, are you safe?”

  Lucia froze. Dhruv’s face turned even redder.

  “Dad!”

  Even Rudra, despite the pain, was enjoying the scene.

  A royal messenger stepped inside and whispered urgently into Anos’ ear. The humor vanished instantly.

  Anos’ expression hardened.

  “Flint,” he said quietly. “We’re recalled. The King wants us back at the palace.”

  Flint nodded. Before leaving, he looked at Dhruv.

  “You’re strong, kid. Stronger than you think.”

  Dhruv watched his father walk away. A memory surfaced. A younger version of himself stood in a dim room, holding a small wooden toy.

  “Is Dad not coming home for my birthday?” he had asked.

  His mother’s gentle voice echoed in reply.

  “You know he is always busy with his work, Dhruv.”

  The memory faded. Night deepened.

  When sleep finally came, the same dream returned. Dhruv stood in an endless black field beneath a crimson sky. The air was heavy, suffocating.

  In the distance stood a tall figure engulfed in flame.

  “Dad?” Dhruv called out.

  The flames twisted. They darkened. Fire melted into shadow. A whisper echoed behind him:

  “You are not ready.”

  Cold chains wrapped around his injured leg. He tried to move—but he couldn’t. The sky cracked like fractured glass. And from above, a massive shadow claw descended.

  Dhruv woke violently. His heart pounded against his ribs. In his confusion, he pushed the chair beside him. It slid across the ground and slammed into Rudra.

  “Aaaah!”

  The entire camp stirred awake. Sleepy, annoyed eyes turned toward Rudra.

  He slowly stood up, stretching painfully.

  “What are you doing, bro?”

  Dhruv didn’t answer. He stared into the darkness beyond the tent. The nightmare felt closer tonight. Not distant. Not symbolic. Closer.

  As if something had moved. Somewhere far away… unseen eyes opened in the dark.