Chapter Seven: The Wolf and the Blade
The night tore open.
Asher's longsword, drawn with predatory speed, was already in descent. It was not a warning
it was an execution meant to silence Lucian's questions forever. The polished steel hissed through the air where the boy's throat had been moments before, slicing the tent's mooring with a sound like tearing skin.
Auron moved before thought, a blur of instinct and fury. He ripped through the canvas and thrust himself between the blade and the boy.
Vowkeeper met steel with a thunderclap of light.
Sparks burst across the camp like scattered stars, white and blinding. The single clang shook the air, throwing Lucian backward into the mud.
Torches flared. Shouts rose. The sleeping camp came alive as Auron locked blades with the knight who had once been Lucian's protector.
Asher pressed forward, strength and training behind every motion. The impact numbed Auron's arms, the reverberation biting into his bones. His feet slid against the frozen ground. He could taste copper from the effort.
The world narrowed to a rhythm of steel.
Asher's face was no longer the calm commander's mask. The polite veneer had cracked, revealing eyes that burned with cold contempt.
"The stray bares fangs," he said, voice steady, dangerous. "Pity. I had hoped to end this quietly."
He stepped back once and drew a long, slow breath. His aura bloomed. Silver light poured from the seams of his armor, coiling around his sword like smoke turned solid. The air thickened under its pressure.
Auron steadied his stance. The bracelet on his wrist pulsed, once, as if sensing the danger.
The space between them became an arena.
Asher's sword blurred, a streak of silver and sound. Each strike fell like a hammer precise, disciplined, lethal. "You think courage makes you righteous?" he snarled. "It makes you predictable. The world doesn't remember heroes. Only survivors."
Auron met him with fluid precision. He moved through the narrow gap between desperation and control, turning each blow aside instead of blocking head-on. The wolf's growl echoed faintly beneath his heartbeat, matching the tempo of his breath.
Deflect. Redirect. Endure.
Asher's technique was flawless; every thrust a line drawn to kill. But the boy was faster less measured, more alive. He fought with instinct sharpened by loss.
Clang. Clang. Sparks and breath. Steel and mud.
The ground split beneath Asher's boots as he pushed forward, silver aura searing through the mist. "Stand and die, boy!"
Auron gave ground but not weakness. He shifted his mana inward, gathering it at his core, the dantian, and let it flood through his limbs. Heat surged through his muscles, burning against the cold. His veins pulsed faintly with light.
The earth hissed. Melted snow turned to steam around them.
Lucian crouched behind a broken crate, paralyzed by the chaos. The night had become a blur of noise and color, his thoughts a single, disbelieving loop This cannot be real.
He saw the man who had trained him now striking to kill him, and the stranger he had befriended shielding his life with nothing but fury and faith. Every memory of Asher's kindness shattered under the truth written in blood and motion.
Auron broke the rhythm first. He feinted low, then drove his heel into the mud, sending a wave of earth up into Asher's face. The knight stepped back to recover, and Auron's blade flashed through the narrow opening.
Steel kissed flesh. Blood traced a thin line across Asher's wrist before the knight twisted away, snatching his blade upright again.
Lucian found his voice at last. "Guards! Help!"
His shout split the night. The nearest men hesitated, torn between their captain's authority and the sight before them.
Asher turned his head slightly, eyes flaring with rage. "Silence!"
The single word hit the air like a whip. His aura flared, commanding and absolute. The guards froze. Fear, not loyalty, kept them still.
"Run!" Auron shouted, forcing the word through clenched teeth. "Lucian, run!"
Lucian stumbled backward, still frozen between terror and disbelief.
Auron felt his energy falter. The dual pulse of his mana vessels the heart and the core shuddered out of sync. His body trembled under the strain. He could feel the beast within pushing against the fragile cage of control, demanding release.
He drew a long breath. The tremor stopped. A terrible calm filled him, cold and sure.
He let it come.
The bracelet flared to life, light spilling from its sigil. The gold fire ran along his arm and into the sword, fusing with the steel until Vowkeeper glowed like molten dawn.
The air bent.
From the light behind him, a vast spectral wolf took form; its outline raw energy, its eyes twin stars. It loomed over Auron, silent, waiting.
Asher faltered for the first time. "What are you?" he breathed.
Auron's answer was quiet, steady. "The world does not forgive the weak."
Then he struck.
The wolf moved with him. Every swing carried its mirrored shadow; a phantom fang, a golden arc of light. Asher's aura met it head-on, silver against gold, human order against primal fury. Each clash erupted in shockwaves that threw tents and wagons aside.
Lucian fell to his knees as the battlefield lit like dawn. The two auras warred across the clearing, flooding the world in opposite colors sunfire and moonsteel.
Asher shouted through the storm, voice raw with fury. "You think you've won? You're a curse, not a savior!"
Auron didn't reply. He parried, twisted, and drove forward. The wolf's roar tore through the air as his final strike connected.
The impact split the ground.
Asher's aura shattered. His armor cracked open across the chest and shoulder, sending him crashing through a tent frame. Canvas and splinters rained down as he staggered to his feet, panting, half-blind with blood.
He looked up at Auron at the gold light, the wolf's silhouette behind him and something in his face changed. It wasn't fear anymore. It was spite.
"You think this ends with me?" he rasped. He spat blood, smiling through broken teeth. "it could be miracle if you survive till tomorrow ."
He dropped his ruined blade and pressed his gauntleted hand to the crest at his chestplate. Runes flared a built-in failsafe, an ancient knight's last resort.
The silver veins along his armor began to glow red.
Lucian saw it first. "Auron—!"
The discharge ignited. A shockwave tore through the clearing as Asher turned himself into a living conduit, all his remaining mana collapsing inward. The air howled, trembling with the buildup.
Auron felt it an unstable surge about to detonate, enough to level the camp.
Asher's eyes found Lucian again, wild and hateful. "If I die, I take what matters!"
He lunged.
Auron moved.
There was no thought, no hesitation only the roar of the wolf. Gold light erupted from the bracelet, consuming him in its blaze. He struck, faster than the eye could follow, colliding with Asher in a burst of thunder and flame.
The world went white.