Riven left the city gates for the first time in his life. Most of his days had been spent within the safety of Veldora's walls—where danger was something distant, kept at bay by the guards and tamers stationed along the battlements. Outside, however, the world felt vast and uncertain. You never knew when a wandering beast might stray too close to the perimeter, and so, children and those born with blank souls were always forbidden from venturing beyond unless absolutely necessary.
This, Riven quickly realized, presented a problem. He had no real idea how to navigate the wilderness that surrounded the city. The only safe routes were the four cobbled roads leading to neighboring towns and cities, each guarded and well maintained. His destination, unfortunately, lay nowhere near any of them—somewhere deep within the center of the sprawling forest that ringed Veldora.
The trees stretched endlessly, their gnarled, twisted forms clawing at the sky. As Riven moved deeper into the Grazel Woods, the oppressive stillness weighed heavier on him. Each step forward elicited a creak from the forest floor, the sound unnervingly loud in the eerie silence. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, his hands tightening into fists. No backup, no companion, just him and the promise of beasts lurking somewhere in the endless tangle of branches and vines.
He sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging as he dropped onto a nearby tree stump. The bark was rough against his gloved palms, and the musty scent of decaying leaves hung thick in the air. Pulling out a crumpled map from his satchel, he squinted at the inked lines sprawled across the parchment.
The map was a mess, barely useful—just a vague outline of the woods, a few crudely drawn landmarks, and the only thing of note: a glowing blue triangle representing his position. It moved in tandem with him, as the map was synced with the magical pylons encircling the forest's perimeter. Handy in theory, but for the price he paid, it was an underwhelming piece of craftsmanship.
Can't believe I spent all my money on this thing, he thought bitterly. When I get back, I'm demanding a full refund.
He let the map fall onto his lap and gazed up at the sky, where specks of light pierced through the dense foliage. The sun had shifted, its position low enough to signal the start of the afternoon. He rolled his shoulders and stood, brushing bits of bark from his cloak.
"Well, I still have daylight to burn," he muttered to no one in particular.
He trudged forward, picking a random direction in the labyrinthine woods. The monotony gnawed at him—the same twisted trunks, the same silence, the same indistinct shadows playing tricks on his peripheral vision. Frustration bubbled under the surface until his stride faltered, his gaze catching on something dark ahead.
A shadow, squat and unmoving, blended seamlessly with the underbrush. At first, he thought it was a stone, but then it twitched. His brows furrowed as he stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the forest floor.
The shadow resolved itself into a creature—a cat, sleek and small, no bigger than his hand. Its fur was black as pitch, shimmering faintly when it moved. Two amethyst eyes locked onto his, glowing with an eerie intelligence. Riven stood frozen, captivated by the striking contrast.
What's a beast like that doing out here? The thought lingered as the feline studied him in return. Then, with a flick of its tail, it darted away, vanishing deeper into the forest.
Something about the creature stirred his curiosity. Before he could overthink it, his legs moved of their own accord, following the strange little beast.
The felines path was erratic, weaving through dense thickets and around towering roots. Riven kept pace, his eyes straining to track its graceful movements. As he chased it, the fading light of day dimmed further, the once golden rays now muted.
He slowed to a stop and fished the map from his satchel. His stomach dropped. The glowing triangle marking his location had drifted alarmingly close to the uncharted lands.
"Fantastic," he muttered under his breath, shoving the map back into his bag. I don't want to die on my first mission.
The uncharted lands were dangerous, their reputation infamous. Zones of wild mana warped the terrain and spawning creatures far beyond the capabilities of most low rank adventurers.
His heart hammered as he spun around, ready to retrace his steps. Suddenly, a thunderous crash reverberated through the woods, shaking the very ground beneath him. He froze, his eyes scanning the dense underbrush for the source.
A shadow moved—a hulking silhouette darting between trees with startling speed. Riven's breath caught as he crouched low, his instincts warring with his curiosity. The creature was massive, bounding erratically as it swiped at something in the air.
What is that thing doing here?
Against his better judgment, he crept closer. The beast came into view—a Fangleon, an apex predator rarely seen outside the deeper regions of the uncharted lands. Its hulking frame towered eight feet tall, with fur as white as snow, crisscrossed by glowing green lines that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
Riven's mind raced. He remembered the entry from his father's old bestiary: the Fangleon, a Rare Bloodline Beast with wind affinity and unmatched agility. Feeling the mana in the surroundings, he remembered that rare beasts start life at rank 2. Why is my luck so skewed? he thought bitterly.
The creature snarled, swiping again, its silver green claws glinting. For a moment, Riven thought it had gone mad, attacking nothing but empty air. Then his amber mana stirred, urging him to use it and as more of it circulate around his body, his perception sharpened and he saw it—the small feline beast.
The tiny creature was teleporting, blinking in and out of existence as it narrowly evaded the Fangleon's strikes. Riven's jaw dropped. Is that... spatial magic?
As he watched, the beast's luck ran out. A mistimed jump left it vulnerable, and the Fangleon's paw struck true, sending the creature flying into a tree. It crumpled at the base, motionless.
The beast stalked toward its fallen prey, green energy radiating from its frame. Riven clenched his fists. You can still leave, a voice in his head warned. But another part of him—reckless and stubborn—refused to back down. He couldn't watch the fascinating little creature die.
He exhaled slowly, recalling his father's training. Drawing on his pink mana, he reinforced his body, feeling his muscles harden and his skin thicken. Amber mana followed, pooling towards his arms like a second skin.
With a burst of speed, Riven surged forward, slamming into the Fangleon's side. It barely flinched.
His confidence wavered as the beast turned its glowing green eyes on him. Its muscles coiled as it lunged, claws slicing through the air. Riven ducked, narrowly avoiding the attack, and retaliated with an upward strike. The Fangleon leaped back, its intelligence shining through as it assessed him.
The tension crackled between them. Riven pushed his limits, channeling more mana into his body. His muscles twitched, strained under the pressure, as blood trickled from his nose.
Before the Fangleon could unleash its attack, Riven took a gamble—rushing in headfirst. Amber light flared beneath his feet as he closed the distance in an instant. The beast's eyes widened in disbelief; a creature as weak as him shouldn't have dared approach, let alone emit such power. But by the time it registered the audacity, Riven's fist was already in motion. His knuckles crashed into the Fangleon's head with explosive force, the impact reverberating through his bones as the beast reeled back, caught completely off guard.
The Fangleon stumbled but recovered, its charging attack sputtering out. In anger it twisted its neck and tried to bite at Riven's shoulder. His Mana absorbed the brunt of the attack, but the force drove him to his knees. With a desperate twist, he slipped free as the creature barreled past, crashing into a tree.
Riven staggered, his breaths ragged. His mana reserves were dangerously low, his pink core nearly drained, and his amber core only half full.
The Fangleon lay dazed, its head lolling as it struggled to rise. Riven didn't wait. He sprinted toward the tree where the black cat had landed.