Donald

Arden squinted his eyes as he stared at the carriage that was moving toward his direction. The forest around him was dense, with towering trees whose canopies blocked out most of the sunlight, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the occasional rustle of leaves as small creatures scurried about. Arden's gaze locked onto the symbol emblazoned on the carriage, his heart skipping a beat. He knew instantly who it belonged to.

"Donald..." he muttered, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

He could still vividly recall the days when he was a prince—days filled with training and studying, all under the watchful eye of his father. Donald had been there too, not as an ally, but as a constant reminder of the mockery he endured. Arden clenched his fists at the memory. "He always boasted about his ability to hunt beasts, all because he had the luxury of Magic," Arden thought, a smirk forming on his lips. "But little did he know, that information would serve me well today."

The carriage rolled closer, its wheels crunching against the gravel path that cut through the forest. Arden quickly retreated further into the shadows, his movements fluid and silent, as if he were one with the forest. He had to be discreet; the last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself.

"I'm sure he has guards with him," Arden muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as the carriage finally came to a halt.

As soon as it did, the door swung open, and two large, burly men stepped out. They were nearly identical, with broad shoulders, square jaws, and an intimidating presence. The red chest plates they wore gleamed under the scant sunlight that filtered through the trees, each plate adorned with the symbol of a blazing sun. Long swords, sheathed at their waists, hung heavily at their sides, and their helmets cast shadows over their stern faces.

"Twins," Arden noted, his voice barely a whisper. "They're his guards."

The twins moved with military precision, taking their positions at the front of the carriage as another figure began to emerge. Arden's heart quickened, his eyes sharpening as he recognized the boy who stepped out. He looked no older than seventeen, with long, flowing black hair that cascaded down his back and striking red eyes that held a perpetual glint of arrogance. A slight smile played on his lips as he surveyed his surroundings, seemingly unfazed by the dark forest that loomed around him.

The boy—Donald—wore a red chest plate similar to his guards, and strapped to his back was a battle axe, its blade gleaming ominously. Arden didn't need anyone to tell him that the weapons they carried were of the highest quality—High Ranked, no doubt.

Arden's expression hardened as he whispered the boy's name. "Donald..."

Donald's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. "The both of you know what to do, right? I'll be right back," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The guards immediately straightened, their heads lowered in submission. "Yes, Master Donald, we know what to do, but..."

Donald's eyes flashed with irritation as he interrupted. "But what?"

One of the guards, his voice hesitant, replied, "I... I think you should tie your hair. It might get in the way when you're battling a beast."

Arden, still hidden, couldn't help but smirk at the exchange. "He's stubborn. He'll never agree to that," he thought, recalling how Donald had always refused to listen to anyone but himself.

Donald's glare could have cut through steel. "I think you should know your limits. Just because you're my guard doesn't mean you can tell me what to do. Is that clear?" His voice was cold, devoid of any warmth.

"Yes, Master Donald," the guard replied, his head bowing even lower.

"Does he intend to seduce the beasts with his looks?" Arden muttered, amusement coloring his voice as he watched Donald stubbornly refuse the advice.

"Good. Now, wait here for me," Donald ordered, giving them one last look before he turned and headed into the forest, his axe now gripped tightly in his right hand.

Donald advanced deeper into the forest, his steps deliberate and measured. His eyes darted from left to right, scanning the dense underbrush for any signs of movement. A smirk played on his lips; the thrill of the hunt was something he relished. There was nothing in this world that brought him more joy than hunting beasts, watching them bleed out and die beneath his blade. It made him feel powerful, almost godlike, as if he held the very essence of life and death in his hands.

"Ahh, I'll need to go further into this forest if I want to find more worthy prey," Donald muttered to himself, placing his hands on his waist as he paused to survey his surroundings. The trees around him were tall and ancient, their thick branches forming a canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. "Though, that means Brad and Guff will have to wait longer… well, I don't care."

Without a second thought, he continued his journey deeper into the woods, now moving with a carefree air. His hands found their way behind his head as he walked, completely at ease despite the potential dangers lurking in the shadows.

Meanwhile, Arden was perched silently on a tree branch not too far behind, his eyes locked onto Donald's every movement. From his vantage point, he could see the way Donald moved forward, confident and unafraid, as if he believed himself invincible. It was almost laughable how little concern he showed for the potential threats around him.

"There's no need to rush," Arden muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. He carefully climbed down from the tree, his movements as silent as a whisper in the night. Once on the ground, he began to discreetly follow Donald, keeping a safe distance between them. He had no intention of revealing himself just yet—he wanted to observe, to understand his enemy better before making his move.

Donald, completely unaware of the eyes watching him, continued his internal monologue. "I guess I'll start going to the forest outside the west gate after today," he said aloud, his voice carrying through the quiet forest. The thought of a new hunting ground excited him, the promise of stronger, higher-ranked beasts fueling his desire for more challenging prey. "If I remember correctly, they have higher-ranked beasts there… Brad and Guff can follow me inside for a start."

He continued speaking to himself as he walked, lost in his own thoughts. But then, without warning...

"Huh?" Donald suddenly stopped, his body tensing as he heard a rustling sound coming from his right. His eyes narrowed, instincts kicking in as he quickly pivoted on his heel. Just as he turned, a wolf leaped out from the bushes, its green fur a blur of motion as it lunged at him, claws extended, ready to strike.

Reacting with practiced ease, Donald moved backward, evading the beast's initial attack with a fluid motion. The wolf landed on the ground where he had just been standing, its dark, menacing eyes locking onto him with a feral intensity. This wolf was different from the one Arden had encountered before—its green fur shimmered faintly in the dim light, and its eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural malevolence.

"Ahh, finally, a beast worth my time," Donald sighed, a twisted grin spreading across his face as he leaped back, creating a safe distance between himself and the wolf. He relished the anticipation, the thrill of the upcoming battle.

"GRRRRRRRR." The wolf snarled, lowering its body as it prepared to strike again. Its killing intent was palpable, filling the air with a sense of danger that would have sent most men running.

But not Donald. He stood his ground, his smirk widening as the wolf launched itself at him, claws outstretched and jaws open wide. The beast was fast, but Donald was faster. In one smooth motion, he swung his axe, meeting the wolf's claws mid-air.

*CLANG*

Sparks flew as metal clashed against bone, the force of the impact momentarily halting the wolf's momentum. But before the beast could even land on the ground, Donald's axe was already in motion again. With a swift, precise slash, he cut through the wolf's body, separating it in two. Blood sprayed from the wound as the beast collapsed to the ground, its lifeless eyes still wide with shock.

"Hmm, as easy as always," Donald muttered, his voice tinged with disappointment as he swung his Axe to the side, flicking the blood off its blade. "I didn't even have to use magic."

With the wolf dead at his feet, Donald turned his attention back to the forest ahead, ready to continue his hunt. But then...

"Huh? Who's there?!" he suddenly called out, his senses prickling as he heard a sound behind him. He spun around, his Axe at the ready, expecting another attack.

But what he saw made him freeze in his tracks. Lying on the ground behind him was another wolf, its body motionless, its head separated from its body. Blood pooled around the corpse, the crimson liquid soaking into the earth.

Donald's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Huh? I didn't kill it… Did someone just throw it here?" he muttered, his gaze darting around the clearing as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Every instinct told him that something was wrong—terribly wrong.

That was when...

*SHING* *CLANG*

"HUH?!" Donald barely had time to react as a blinding flash of metal came hurtling toward him, his Axe meeting it in a desperate clash. The force of the impact reverberated through his arms, nearly knocking him off balance.

"Huh?!!! Who are you?"