We gathered about ten meters from where the fight would take place.
I was next to Kisaya, eyes fixed on the courtyard.
Of all people, I didn't think Tarin would actually offer to fight that thing. Sure, he's loud and impulsive—but this?
This was beyond reckless. I didn't think he could face the Wendigo. Not really.
I believe I could defeat it—but not without first figuring out what it's capable of. Jumping into a fight without knowing your enemy? That's not just reckless.
That's dangerous.
Like he's trying to prove something.
While Ashren prepared to open the cage, I glanced at the priestess he had called over—as a precaution. She was striking — tall and poised, her long black hair tied back, revealing a thin, gold-embroidered headband that marked her status. Her dress was simple yet elegant, woven from fine linen, the hem trailing just above her ankles. Copper bracelets clinked softly as she moved, and a small pouch of herbs hung from her waist.
Her green eyes were sharp, assessing.
When they met mine, they turned cold.
Then she looked away, uninterested.
I clenched my fists, forcing down the surge of frustration. I had almost forgotten what it felt like—that contempt, that underestimation. Being looked down on for being unchosen.
I looked back at the Wendigo.
I needed to watch.
I needed to learn.
If I planned to defeat it one day, I had to see every weakness.
Ashren unlocked the cage and stepped back. He didn't call for more guards—confident he could handle it if things got out of control.
Tarin started tracing his rune.
He lifted his sword. No shield—probably to have more freedom with his ability. If I remembered correctly from training, he could trigger a shockwave on contact when striking with any part of his body.
His stance was solid.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Even the wind died down, as if nature itself sensed what was coming.
Then, without warning—the Wendigo shot forward like a blur.
Fast. Unnaturally fast.
But wild.
Predictable.
Just as the creature was about to reach him, Tarin lifted his left foot and slammed it down. A minor explosion of force sent him skidding to the right. The sudden burst of speed caught me off guard.
"He's using his ability on the ground to gain momentum" Kisaya noted.
I nodded.
"Smart. Combines it with his step for a quick burst of speed."
But I noticed his stance shift awkwardly as he landed.
He didn't hesitate—using the technique again, this time propelling himself back toward the Wendigo, like he was desperate to strike before the creature could react.
"He's stiff" I muttered. "Doesn't seem used to it. Maybe nerves."
Kisaya nodded.
"Can't blame him—anyone would be, facing that thing for the first time. But it's making him sloppy. His form's off, and he's rushing his attacks."
Tarin swung at the Wendigo—but the beast didn't react. Didn't flinch. Instead of dodging or blocking, it lunged forward, attacking head-on. Tarin swung his blade, but his stance was already off—the swing had almost no power.
The blade barely cut through its skin.
The creature roared, unfazed, and raised one of its clawed hands.
Tarin tried to backstep—too late.
The Wendigo's claw tore across his stomach.
He screamed, doubling over as blood splattered onto the ground. One knee hit the dirt, his hands clutching the wound, but the pain overwhelmed him. He collapsed forward, face-down in the dust.
Everyone froze.
For a second, I thought he might actually die right there.
Kisaya moved her hand, clearly tracing a rune. I recognized that look — she was getting ready to step in.
The Wendigo sprang forward—but suddenly, it stopped.
Its jaws snapped at the air, desperate to bite—to tear into flesh and feed.
It lunged again, slamming into something unseen—like an invisible wall.
It hissed, clawing at the air, desperate to reach Tarin.
"That's enough" Ashren said, his voice firm and calm.
"The encounter is over."
I hadn't seen it coming. One moment the creature was unstoppable—a charging beast, relentless and furious—and the next, it crashed against something.
I glanced at Ashren, reassessing the man who had always seemed unshakable. A wave of relief swept through the group.
His steady tone was all we needed to know—it was finally under control.
I could tell he was the one restraining it—somehow. The priestess approached Tarin, her hands tracing a rune. The wound on his stomach began to seal, and Tarin relaxed, his breathing easing.
The Wendigo, still caught in the invisible barrier, thrashed violently—hurling its weight against the unseen walls.
Its snarls grew louder, more feral, as if the smell of blood was driving it mad. It slammed its claws against the air, desperate to break free—each strike heavier than the last.
"Good to know they won't let us die" I murmured.
I rubbed my chin, trying to figure out what his ability could be.
A voice behind me answered.
"Spiritual energy barriers. Five of them. They form a box around the creature."
I turned—Ilkar.
I hadn't expected him to speak to me, especially after the fight. He kept his gaze low, shoulders hunched like he was bracing for my reaction.
Did he fear me—or respect me?
"Barriers?" I asked.
"Yeah... amber-colored."
He hesitated.
"Every time the Wendigo struck... it didn't move."
"So his ability is setting up barriers?"
"Seems like it." he added, almost under his breath.
Ilkar shrugged, avoiding my gaze.
"With that look, you'd think he'd be more offense-focused," Kisaya muttered.
I nodded.
"Yeah, guess appearances can be misleading."
Kisaya smirked.
"Maybe he just likes looking intimidating."
I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Guess it's working."
Kisaya let out a soft laugh, the tension easing just a little.
I glanced at Tarin, now resting. Then at the Wendigo, still thrashing against its invisible prison.
Could I do it?
Could I really face it head-on?
Kisaya looked at me—her eyes soft with worry.
"Do you really want to fight it? I'm just... worried about you."
I gave a faint smirk.
"If I can't take down a low-tier creature, how can I call myself a king?"