Chapter 14 The hunt Part 2
Scales moved in the mist.
Ariz didn't blink. He adjusted his grip, breath shallow, sword angled low. The beast hadn't seen him—yet. Its coiled body shifted like liquid shadow, sinewed and lean. Bone spines curled from its back like jagged horns, some cracked and dripping resin. Its tail swept slowly across the moss, leaving a gouge in the earth with each drag.
He'd seen sketches of creatures like this—Barathian Fang Serpents, Tier-2 forest apex predators. No eyes. They hunted by vibration, scent, and the minute change in air pressure when something moved wrong.
So Ariz didn't move wrong.
He lowered his center of gravity, stilled his breath, and moved forward at a crawl. Step. Pause. Shift weight. Step.
A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, clinging to his jaw. It dropped—plip—and landed in a puddle.
The serpent's head snapped toward him.
"Shit."
It lunged.
Ariz threw himself sideways, blade flashing. A spined tail cracked through the space he'd just been in, smashing a fallen tree trunk to splinters. The serpent twisted, impossibly fast, coiling to strike again.
Ariz landed hard on his side, rolled to his knees, and slashed upward as the beast surged forward. Steel met scale—clang—but only carved a shallow line before the serpent reared back. Blood, thick and dark, oozed from the wound, hissing as it hit the forest floor.
It circled him.
Silent.
Predatory.
Ariz shifted his stance, grounding his feet. This wasn't training. This was survival. Flowing Shadow kicked in—an instinct now more than a skill. His body leaned with the beast's rhythm, sliding just out of reach, countering its swipes like he'd danced with this thing in dreams.
The serpent hissed.
Then vanished.
A blur.
Ariz spun just in time—its head shot from the side, jaws open, fangs slick with venom. He ducked and rolled underneath, slashing upward with all the weight of his hips behind the strike.
This time he felt bone break.
The beast screamed—a sound like metal grinding underwater.
It thrashed wildly, smashing trees, coils whipping through branches. One spine clipped Ariz across the shoulder and flung him backward. He slammed into a tree hard enough to rattle the bark. The air fled his lungs in a sharp gasp, but he didn't stay down.
The serpent turned again. Slower this time. Bleeding. Limbs twitching.
And then… it stopped.
It didn't charge.
It didn't hiss.
It just stared.
Its fanged mouth opened slightly, blood dribbling out like wine from a cracked cup.
Ariz rose, sword dragging against the dirt.
He looked into the beast's face—if it had one. No eyes, no expression. But something in its posture faltered. Not submission. Not fear.
Recognition.
It was wounded.
It was angry.
It didn't want to die.
Neither had he.
And yet…
He stepped forward.
The beast coiled tighter, pressing its damaged tail into the ground like it might flee. But it didn't.
It waited.
So did he.
They stared—killer to killer, monster to monster.
Then Ariz raised the sword over his head.
The serpent didn't move.
The blade came down.
Clean.
Precise.
The scream stopped mid-breath.
Blood sprayed upward in a narrow fountain, coating Ariz's chest, his face, his hands. He held the sword in place for a moment longer, buried in flesh, before pulling it free and stepping back.
The beast crumpled silently, coiling once around itself, then stilling completely.
Ariz wiped the blade on a patch of moss. The blood left black streaks behind.
He didn't speak.
Didn't breathe.
Just stared at the body.
Then—
DING.
[System Notification]
Tier-2 Beast Kill: 1/5
Flowing Shadow → Level 3
New Effect Unlocked: Partial Stealth Blink (3 meters)
A second pulse followed—not sound, not light, but feeling. Something beneath the surface of his body stirred. Like smoke curling through veins. His limbs buzzed. His spine tingled.
A faint whisper echoed somewhere just beyond hearing:
"Closer now…"
He blinked.
The black mist was gone.
The body was already sinking into the earth, unnaturally fast. Rot spread through its corpse like fire under the skin, shrinking and breaking down muscle, bone, mass. In a few hours, nothing would remain.
Ariz looked up. The wind had shifted again.
Something else was watching.
Far beyond the trees.
It didn't matter.
He turned from the corpse, stepped back into the thorns, and disappeared into the grove—his sword still wet.