Chapter 296: Victor
They scattered.
Too late.
The ball of nothingness shot downward.
It struck the ground among them and burst like ink slapped against stone.
Black spread outward in a violent splatter, consuming the clearing floor, the roots beneath it, the stones, the soil, and the legs of the werewolves too slow to escape. This was not like cutting flesh. Darkness could not simply separate living things from their own bodies and make the result permanent. Flesh with life and blood resisted that kind of severing in ways constructs did not. Even if parts vanished for a moment, once the effect ended, the living matter could return to what it was.
But the ground was different.
The land had no blood.
Darkness ate it eagerly.
The earth disappeared.
A pit opened beneath the pack, sudden and enormous, dropping down far deeper than the clearing had any right to allow. Werewolves yelped, snarled, and clawed at the air as the ground vanished under them. The Elder went down first, old claws raking through nothing before catching uselessly against a wall already dissolving. The Mother twisted midfall and tried to spring from one collapsing edge to another, but the black spread caught the soil beneath her landing point and erased it. Most of the normal werewolves fell with them, crashing into one another, tumbling in a mass of fur, claws, and outraged howls.
The recoil from Heft slammed into Kael.
Instead of dropping straight into the pit he created, he was blasted backward and away from it. The force spun him through the air, rough and uncontrolled, but far better than falling into his own darkness. He hit the ground near the edge of the clearing and rolled, tearing a line through grass before stopping on one knee.
The Hunter stared.
For the first time, he fully transformed.
The young man’s body stretched and split into wolf-shape, taller and broader than the normal pack, covered in fur marked by a mixed yellow and silver mane. His face lengthened into a snout, claws pushing from his hands, his red eyes now bright and animal beneath the moon. Yet the intelligence remained. So did the caution.
"That’s a dangerous ability..." he said.
Kael pushed himself to his feet.
His breathing was heavier now.
The rune combination had taken too much out of him too quickly. Darkness alone was costly. Darkness with Heft, after Stone, while Exploit Weakness and Execrate tore at his senses, was worse. His body felt hollowed for a moment, as if the Tower had reached inside and scooped out warmth. He straightened anyway.
The Hunter looked toward the pit.
"But they don’t look dead," he said. "They’ll soon climb up."
From below came furious snarls and claws scraping stone. The Elder was alive. The Mother too. Several of the normal werewolves were already trying to dig into the wall, using claws like climbing hooks. The pit was deep, but werewolves were strong and fast. Under the moon, it would not hold them forever.
Kael wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
"I don’t know about soon."
The Hunter frowned.
Then the darkness began to fade.
The black along the walls of the pit retreated in patches. The place where the ground had been erased started to remember itself. Earth returned. Stone returned. Roots returned. Mass flowed back into existence where Darkness had consumed it, not gently, not cleanly, but with the inevitability of a wound closing too fast around whatever remained inside.
The snarls below changed.
The Hunter’s eyes widened.
The hole closed.
The ground sealed over the trapped werewolves.
For several seconds, the clearing was silent except for Kael’s breathing.
Then muffled howls erupted from beneath the earth.
The Hunter understood.
His head snapped toward Kael, and he charged.
He had seen the exhaustion. That was the tell. Kael’s shoulders were heavy. His breathing was rougher. Stone had cracked. The heavy rune use had staggered him. If there was a moment to strike, it was now.
But the One Eyed Red moved first.
He intercepted the Hunter with one arm across his path.
"Wait."
The Hunter snarled, claws flexing. "But..."
"We can’t win," the One Eyed Red said.
The words were calm.
That made them heavier.
The Hunter looked at Kael again, disbelief in the angle of his snout, frustration burning in his eyes. "He’s exhausted."
"Stop faking it," the One Eyed Red said.
Kael sighed.
"I guess it was too obvious, huh?"
He rolled his shoulders and stood up straighter.
The exhaustion did not vanish, because it had been real. But the weakness in his posture eased away too smoothly to be accidental. He had let it than necessary. Let the Hunter see what he wanted. Let the pack believe the pit had cost him everything. A little bait, thrown back at hunters who had offered him the same at the church.
The One Eyed Red’s single eye did not leave him.
"You win this round," the red wolf said. "Let them out."
Kael tilted his head. "That sounds like an order."
"More like a request." The One Eyed Red looked toward the sealed ground, where muffled scraping and enraged howls still trembled beneath the clearing. "I knew if you wanted to leave, you could have done so whenever. Using that stone skin ability of yours, you could have simply walked out of the perimeter and no one here would have stopped you. Most of your runes remain unused too."
Kael studied him for a moment.
Then smiled faintly. "Good eye."
"My only eye."
Kael almost laughed despite himself.
He let out another breath and lowered his hand. "Hand over Frost. They should still have some time to breathe."
The One Eyed Red nodded.
The Hunter’s jaw tightened, but he obeyed. He pulled out a hexagonal rune, and threw it across the clearing. Kael caught it midair. The rune was cold against his palm, so cold that frost formed instantly along the edges of his gauntlet. Pale symbols glowed across its surface, beautiful in a way that made the thing feel sharper than ice and quieter than snow.
He did not inspect it yet.
First, the bargain.
Kael turned toward the sealed ground and raised his arm again.
Darkness gathered, smaller this time, controlled and narrow. He fired it into the same patch of earth. The ground vanished once more, opening the path down into the pit. Air rushed up, followed by coughing, snarling, and the frantic scrape of claws. The werewolves trapped below surged toward the opening, some dragging themselves up the walls, others being pulled by their kin. The Mother emerged with dirt packed into her fur and murder in her eyes. The Elder climbed out more slowly, shaking soil from his shoulders with undignified irritation.
The normal werewolves followed, growling the moment they saw Kael.
Several lowered their bodies as if ready to attack again.
The One Eyed Red spoke once.
"He won the game. Let us retreat."
The growls died.
Not happily.
But they died.
One by one, the werewolves turned away. The Mother gave Kael one last long look, all sharp hatred and future promise, then vanished into the trees. The Elder shook his head as if disappointed in the younger ones, then followed. The normal pack retreated with backward glances, dragging injured bodies and limping into the moonlit forest.
The Hunter remained a moment longer.
He looked at Kael, then at the rune in his hand, then toward the edge of the forest.
"Unfortunately," he said, voice still rough from the transformed throat, "I couldn’t even get to have fun."
Kael flexed his fingers around Frost. "I’m more than willing to accompany you in a fight. I still got the energy."
The Hunter looked toward the One Eyed Red.
The red wolf did not speak.
He did not need to.
The Hunter shook his head, though his smile returned. "Orders are orders. We’ll fight again if you ever return here."
"I’ll keep that in mind."
The Hunter backed away, then turned and disappeared between the trees.
The One Eyed Red lingered last, one crimson eye fixed on Kael with a look that was not quite respect and not quite hunger.
Then he too left.
The clearing emptied.
A notification appeared.
[Hunt of the Red Moon has been cleared.]
[Condition fulfilled: The Werewolf Pack has conceded the hunt.]
[You have survived until the end of the hunt.]
[Reward confirmed.]
[You have obtained: Epic Rune - Frost.]
[You may now proceed to the next floor.]
Kael finally looked down at the hexagonal rune in his hand.
Cold crawled across his gauntlet, but did not bite. The rune seemed almost calm compared to the brutality that had earned it.
He smiled.
"Worth it."