The Direfang Sovereign's corpse still lay in the square, its massive frame looming even in death. The acrid scent of blood filled the night air, mixing with the smoke of shattered homes and scorched wood. Though the villagers had survived, the sight of devastation clung to their hearts like a heavy chain.
The hunters began moving quickly, their instincts guiding them to salvage what they could. They hacked away at the Sovereign's hide, careful yet uneasy, their glances always flicking toward Aiden.
He sat at the edge of the square, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. His chest rose and fell slowly, each breath deliberate, controlled. His claws had retracted, his eyes dimmed back to normal, but the crimson glow still lingered faintly, like embers that refused to die.
Children stared at him from behind their parents' legs. Men muttered under their breaths. Women pulled their little ones closer, their gazes darting between gratitude and dread.
"A beast… killing a beast," someone whispered.
"No," another muttered, shaking his head. "Not a beast. But not… a man, either."
The words cut through the air, sharp enough for Aiden to hear. His jaw tightened.
---
Miriam approached cautiously, her staff tapping the ground with each weary step. She stopped a few paces away from him.
"You didn't devour it," she said softly, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and sorrow.
Aiden's head lowered. "I wanted to. Every part of me screamed to. But I didn't." His voice cracked, raw with exhaustion. "It doesn't feel like a victory. It feels like I just… postponed something worse."
She reached out, her hand hovering above his shoulder, trembling. For a moment, she wanted to comfort him, to say he wasn't alone. But she hesitated, pulling back before her fingers touched him.
He noticed. And that hesitation cut deeper than any blade.
---
The village elder, Oswin, emerged from the chaos, his old frame supported by a cane. His eyes were sharp, his face grave as he studied the bloodstained boy before him.
"He saved us," Oswin declared loudly, his voice carrying over the murmurs. "Do not forget that. Without him, this village would have been wiped from the map."
His words silenced the crowd, but only for a moment.
One of the hunters spoke, his tone sharp. "And what about after? What happens when his hunger grows too much? What happens when we're the only ones around?"
The question hung in the air like a blade over their heads.
Aiden rose slowly, his fists clenched. His body ached from the battle, but the sting of their words hurt far worse. "I'm not your enemy," he said, his voice low but firm. "I fought for you. I bled for you."
"Yes," the hunter replied bitterly. "And we're grateful. But gratitude doesn't erase fear."
---
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Finally, Oswin raised a hand. "Enough. This boy has proven his worth tonight. We will decide nothing in the heat of fear." His gaze softened slightly as it landed on Aiden. "Rest. Tomorrow, we will talk."
The crowd dispersed reluctantly. Whispers trailed after them, carried on the cool night breeze.
A monster's strength.
Human or beast?
How long until he turns?
---
Later, when the square had emptied, Miriam remained behind. She sat beside Aiden in the quiet, her presence a fragile comfort.
"Do you hate them?" she asked.
"No," he muttered. His voice was hoarse, his throat dry. "I understand them." He looked at his hands, remembering the hunger that had nearly overtaken him. His claws still trembled faintly. "Because sometimes… I'm afraid of myself too."
The night deepened around them, heavy with silence. Above, the stars flickered faintly, indifferent to the boy and the burden he carried.
---
But far from the village, in the depths of the Blackwood Forest, something stirred. The Sovereign's death had sent ripples through the food chain, through the very mana that sustained the forest. Beasts howled in the distance, their cries sharper, more restless.
Something ancient shifted in its slumber.
The balance was broken.
And as Aiden closed his eyes, seeking the smallest reprieve, the hunger inside him whispered again, softer this time. Patient. Inevitable.
This is only the beginning.
---