Chapter 66: Three Stones, Six Kills
It was around five in the afternoon. Shadows stretched behind the trees as the forest, as usual, held its breath in a deceptive calm. The spring wind blew gently, making the leaves shiver in a dance that almost seemed festive.
But beneath that peaceful surface, a latent tension pulsed. Nothing unusual in such a savage place: here, every creature lived to feed, survive, or defend its territory. Because when night fell, others would take their place.
All around—claw slashes, brutal bites, guttural roars. The weapons of those who had nothing but flesh to fight with. They hunted, they devoured—driven only by their pure, absolute instinct to survive.
But not all of them were that primitive.
Some creatures, naturally more intelligent, used other means to dominate. And in that quiet struggle for control, territorial wars broke out often. Almost always ending in bloodbaths.
All around, in the highest trees, three figures lay hidden. Odd intruders for such a battlefield. Too coordinated. Too civilized.
The first, a young man with obsidian skin and a sharp face, clung to a branch like a predator waiting to strike. His grey eyes glinted between the leaves.
The second, a pale-skinned woman with long elven ears, silently watched the carnage below, her golden gaze fixed and unblinking.
The third was another woman, crouched on a lower branch. Tall, muscular, with close-cropped hair and sharp brown eyes—every inch of her built for battle.
They had spread out to surround the clearing. Far enough not to be seen. Close enough to act together.
Below, the fight raged on.