The world returned in fragments. Sound first—the crackling of a fire, the whisper of wind beyond the den's mouth. Then sensation—dull pain, like fading embers in his limbs. Finally, sight—the warm glow of torchlight above, flickering gently against the walls of his home.
Kael'thas stirred. His breath caught. Bandages covered half his torso, and a soreness pulsed beneath them with every small movement. The fight with Gavrlok—it hadn't been a dream. The final strike, the taste of blood, the thrum of power as the core shattered within his grip—
All real.
"You've finally woken."
The voice froze him.
His mother.
She stood at the edge of the den, arms crossed, still in her formal battle gear—scars fresh, her hair tied back tight, her crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. She took a step forward, her gaze unreadable.
"I leave for one mission. One. And you decide to flirt with death while I'm gone?" Her voice trembled—equal parts fury and anguish.
Kael'thas sat up slowly. "I didn't—"
"You didn't what?" she snapped. "Didn't think? Didn't care? After everything—after your father left—you are the only reason I kept fighting."
Kael opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come.
"I heard from Varon. From your aunt. From the damn elders. You fought a monster far beyond your level. You nearly died. Again. And you didn't even think to wait for me."
Her voice broke. "Do you even love me anymore?"
Silence fell.
Kael'thas closed his eyes. Then opened them again.
"I do," he whispered. "I always have."
"Then why?"
He clenched his fists. "Because I can't survive in your shadow forever."
She flinched.
"I'm not the pup you raised anymore. I9 know it hurts. But I have to grow. I have to fight. If I die trying to be strong enough to protect you—protect all of us—then so be it."
Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't move. Didn't speak.
He continued, his voice cracking, "This tribe doesn't believe in me and also mock you because is this. They see me as a pup when he gets hurt he starts crying and hide behind his mother. A runt. A shame to my father's name. If I don't prove them wrong now, when?"
Silence again.
Then, slowly, she knelt beside him. Her arms wrapped around him. A fierce, trembling hug that said everything words couldn't.
"I was so afraid," she whispered. "Of losing you too."
Kael rested his head on her shoulder. "You won't. Not yet."
---
Two days passed.
Kael'thas stood before the great hill, where thick mists clung to ancient stones. At its peak, hidden by vines and shadows, was the Lupen Crucible—the sacred evolution site of their kind.
His mother walked beside him, carrying a large carved artifact wrapped in silk.
"This is the Soulfang Totem," she explained. "It anchors your body and spirit during the evolution. Without it, the backlash could kill you. Even with it, the pain will be unlike anything you've known."
Kael nodded.
"Normally, we don't use these until the age of adulthood bloodline ritual," she said. "But… you're special to me I don't want to risk even for one Moment." I will arrange another for your bloodline ritual more special than this.
He looked at her.
She gave him a small, sad smile. "You are one of those geniuses who carries ten unique cores by your age is."
As they climbed, Kael glanced around. Strange, hollow howls echoed from the distance. The air shimmered slightly—the mark of lingering ancestral energy.
They reached the altar.
Twisted roots encircled the stone platform, and the old bloodstains from past evolutions stained the center. She placed the Soulfang Totem in the carved socket.
Kael stepped forward. The ground pulsed beneath his feet.
System Prompt: [WARNING: Evolution Threshold Reached.]
[Core Capacity: 10 Unique | Compatibility Stable]
[Initiating Evolution Sequence—Awaiting Ritual Anchor…]
His mother backed away slowly.
"This is it," she said softly. "Once it begins… there's no stopping it."
Kael took a breath.
And stepped into the Crucible.
The altar was silent.
Ancient stones carved with feral runes loomed around me in a half-circle, forming the sacred evolution ring known as the Lunaris Crucible—a place where bloodlines awakened and monsters became more fierce and do evolution.
The scent of old magic filled the air. Cracked totems stood like ghosts of warriors long gone, and in the center, a shallow stone basin pulsed faintly with ethereal blue fire—the Wolfblanc. A mystical structure crafted from moon-touched silver and bones of a fallen primal beast. It existed to stabilize the body during the shift. Without it, evolution could destroy you from the inside.
Mother stood silently outside the circle, eyes downcast.
"You sure about this?" Her voice was quiet but taut. "This is your point of no return."
I nodded. "I've already crossed it."
Rava, Grum, and even Varok stood farther back among the stones, like shadows watching a legacy rise—or fall.
The system flickered into view in my mind.
> [Initiating Evolution Process]
Compatible Species Path Found: 10 Unique Monster Cores Detected.
Evolution Tier: Stage One — Wildblood Ferawyn
Core Integration: Stable.
Compatibility: 97%
Beginning bloodline ignition…
My body burned.
Not heat. Not fire.
Something deeper. Something in my bones began to tear and rebuild. My heart thudded once, then again—louder. Stronger. My muscles convulsed. The blue fire of the Wolfblanc surged upward, wrapping around me in a spectral whirlwind.
> Warning: Dormant Trait Detected.
Unlocking: [Alpha Predatory Instinct – Variant: Twilight Howler]
Bloodline Connection Confirmed. Processing Adaptation…
I dropped to my knees. The runes glowed brighter.
I didn't scream—but my mind did.
My claws blackened and thickened. My spine cracked. A howling filled my ears—not from outside—but within. A memory? No… a command. My pupils dilated, senses exploding outward like a beast breaking its cage.
I felt fur retracting from my face… skin tightening…
My jaw and shoulders widened. My arms lengthened slightly—too human to be beast, too beast to be man. My thoughts sharpened. My breathing steadied. The pain began to fade—and was replaced with clarity.
This wasn't madness.
This was power.
> [Evolution Completed]
Current Form: Wildblood Ferawyn – Stage 2
Race Progress: 45% Humanoid | 55% Beast
Bloodline Rank: Stable
Traits:
– Alpha Instinct (Awakened)
– Predator's Hunger (Improved)
– Lunar Vision (New)
– Wild Regeneration I
– Skill Compatibility Increased
Now , I feel normal for the first time in this world to walk like a human again
I rose slowly, the blue fire dimming around me.
The wind in the altar changed. I could feel it—them. Every heartbeat of my tribe nearby, every whisper of doubt, every taste of fear in the air.
Varok was the first to speak.
"…So this is the legacy Kaelir left behind."
Mother stepped forward, her eyes wide. She didn't speak, didn't need to. Her arms wrapped around me—not in fear or hesitation—but something like pride and fear woven together.
"Was it worth it?" she whispered.
I nodded.
Because I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was becoming something the world feared… and needed.
The flames of the Wolfblanc altar receded, leaving only the faint shimmer of ancestral energy across the sacred stones. My bones still ached, my skin still hummed with heat… but I stood tall.
Two feet. Upright. Humanoid again.
Mother's sharp breath caught in her throat.
"You walk like him," she whispered. "Like your father… after his second evolution."
I looked down at my hands—no longer clawed stubs, but something between man and beast. Strong. Sharp. Controlled.
We weren't alone.
From the path behind the altar, two figures emerged. One leaned heavily on a rune-marked bone staff, the other strode ahead with the arrogance of someone who had never tasted failure.
I knew both faces.
Elder Malgron. A semi-elder of the war-council. Once loyal to my father Kaelir, now more loyal to his own agenda.
And beside him walked Drevyn, his grandson—golden-haired, broad-shouldered, with a permanent smirk carved into his face. He was older than me by a season, praised for strength, feared for cruelty.
"Still breathing?" Drevyn drawled, looking me up and down. "I thought the Wolfblanc might finally put down the runt."
I didn't flinch. "Try harder to be original."
Malgron raised an eyebrow. "The shadows walk like men now. Curious."
Drevyn stepped closer. "You think evolving means you're one of us now? A new shape doesn't make you worthy."
Before I could reply, a voice cut through the tension.
"Then maybe you should stop yapping like a broken pup."
Grum stepped out from the treeline, his heavy frame blocking Drevyn's path. Towering, with a broken tusk jutting from his lower jaw and mismatched eyes that shimmered with quiet intellect, Grum had always been there—watching from the edge of the crowd, thinking deeper than he spoke.
Drevyn curled his lip. "Grum, the coward's son. Still trailing after your little shadow pack?"
Grum didn't blink. "Better a coward's son than a fool's heir."
Rava stood beside me now, silent as always, her crimson eyes burning.
Drevyn turned his gaze back to me. "Two days. The Wolf-ring. Before the tribe. I challenge you, Kael'thas."
I held his stare.
"You'll regret it."
Malgron chuckled. "Ah, youth. So eager to bleed."
The two of them turned and left, their scent trailing like rot on the wind.
The moment they were gone, I finally exhaled.
Rava muttered, "He's not worth it."
Grum grunted, "Maybe not. But the whole tribe will be watching."
I nodded. "Then let them."
Two days. A duel. Not just for pride—
But for everything I was. Everything I would become.