Silence fell over the clearing.
The beast staggered backward, its massive body swaying as if it could not understand what had just happened. Its claw trembled in the air, stopped inches from the boy's face by an unseen force.
Kael lowered his arm slowly.
The heat inside him pulsed like a living thing, steady and powerful. Dark veins throbbed beneath his skin, spreading from his chest down his arm before slowly retreating, sinking back beneath flesh.
The beast roared again, louder this time, shaking the ground beneath their feet.
Kael took a step forward.
The creature hesitated.
That alone felt wrong.
It was a monster that had torn through seasoned hunters, yet it hesitated before a child.
The warmth inside Kael surged with approval.
Consume.
Kael's gaze locked onto the beast's chest. He could see it clearly now. The thick blood pumping through its body, filled with energy that made his skin prickle.
The guards shouted from behind him.
"Kael, get back!"
"Run!"
He did not turn.
The beast lunged again, jaws snapping wide.
Kael moved without thinking.
He stepped inside the creature's reach, avoiding the fangs by a hair's breadth, and placed his hand against its chest.
The moment his palm made contact, the world seemed to tilt.
The warmth inside him erupted.
A torrent of crimson light poured from the beast into Kael's body. The monster let out a strangled howl, its body convulsing violently.
Its blood vanished.
Not spilled.
Taken.
The fur on its body dulled. Its muscles shrank visibly. Within seconds, the massive beast collapsed into a shriveled husk, lifeless and empty.
Kael stumbled back, gasping.
Power roared through his veins, wild and intoxicating. His heart pounded painfully as the heat spread through every corner of his body.
Then it settled.
The husk hit the ground with a dull thud.
No one moved.
The guards stared at the corpse, then at Kael.
The villagers whispered.
Fear thickened the air.
Kael looked down at his hands.
They were shaking.
"What… what was that?"
Someone finally spoke.
Kael turned slowly.
Every face was pale.
Some stared at him with awe. Others with terror.
Old Bran leaned heavily on his cane, eyes wide. "Kael," he said hoarsely. "What did you do?"
Kael opened his mouth.
No words came out.
How could he explain something he barely understood himself?
"I… I stopped it," he said finally.
A lie.
Not entirely.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances.
One of them stepped forward cautiously. "That beast drained dry," he said. "No wound. No blood."
His gaze hardened. "That is not normal."
Kael felt the warmth stir uneasily.
Danger.
Not from the forest.
From the people around him.
That night, Kael did not sleep in his hut.
He sat alone at the edge of the village, staring at the dark outline of the Blackwood Forest.
Whispers followed him wherever he went.
Some villagers avoided him entirely. Others watched him too closely, eyes sharp with suspicion.
Even his mother had looked at him differently.
Not with fear.
With worry.
"What happened today?" she asked softly when they were alone.
Kael lowered his gaze. "I don't know."
She studied him for a long moment, then pulled him into a tight embrace.
"You saved them," she said. "That is all that matters."
Kael did not answer.
He knew better.
The dream returned that night.
Kael stood on black stone once more, the crimson sky fractured but slowly healing. The shadows before him were fewer now, but more defined.
The presence watched him with clear interest.
"You tasted true blood," it said.
Kael clenched his fists. "They saw me."
A low chuckle echoed. "Of course they did."
"What happens now?"
The presence stepped closer. For the first time, Kael sensed its shape clearly.
A crown.
Broken and incomplete.
"You grow," it said. "And the world reacts."
"I do not want them to fear me."
Silence followed.
Then the presence spoke softly. "Fear is cheaper than understanding. You will learn this."
Kael woke with a tight chest.
Three days later, riders arrived.
They bore the sigil of the Ironclaw Sect.
The village gathered anxiously as the cultivators dismounted. Their robes were dark gray, embroidered with sharp silver lines. Their presence alone pressed down on the villagers like a weight.
Cultivators.
Kael felt them immediately.
Their blood burned differently. Dense. Refined. Controlled.
Dangerous.
The warmth inside him reacted sharply.
Consume.
He forced it down.
The lead cultivator stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "A monster was slain here," he said. "One drained of blood."
His eyes stopped on Kael.
"You," he said calmly. "Step forward."
Kael obeyed.
Up close, the pressure was suffocating. His knees threatened to buckle, yet the warmth steadied him, anchoring him in place.
The cultivator studied him carefully.
"A child," he murmured. "Yet something is wrong."
He raised a hand.
Kael's instincts screamed.
Danger.
Before Kael could react, the cultivator pressed two fingers against Kael's chest.
Energy surged into Kael's body.
The warmth exploded in response.
The cultivator recoiled violently, eyes wide with shock.
"What are you?" he hissed.
The other cultivators drew their weapons instantly.
Kael staggered back, clutching his chest. The mark over his heart burned fiercely beneath his skin.
"I am Kael," he said, voice trembling but steady.
The lead cultivator stared at him, uncertainty flashing across his face.
"This village," he said slowly, "will be placed under observation."
The villagers gasped.
Kael's mother stepped forward. "Please," she said. "He is only a child."
The cultivator hesitated.
Then he nodded once. "We will return."
As the riders left, unease settled over the village like a shadow.
Kael knew.
Everything had changed.
That night, Kael made a decision.
He could not stay.
The warmth inside him pulsed in agreement.
Consume.
He stared toward the Blackwood Forest.
This time, he did not hesitate.