A behemoth appears

Eli Varon POV

This was going to be fun, amazingly fun.

The circle tightened around me, a ring of eyes flickering with the kind of calmness you get from having fought and bled your way through a thousand battles.

My Devourer entourage—mandated by my father, like a leash I never asked for—stood ready, weapons drawn, eyes locked on me.

I hated having them around. Each of them was handpicked to ensure I stayed alive, but they were just another reminder of how my dad couldn't let go. Not even a little. But I couldn't hate him for caring.

I gripped the shaft of my double-sided axe, the weight perfectly familiar, the weapon I had been training in since I was four years old.

The ground beneath us trembled, quivering under the rhythmic, booming footsteps of the creatures ahead. My breath hitched in anticipation, every sense heightened.

The Vanar pack prowled forward, a massive wall of muscle, fur, and rage. Six-meter beasts, bodies rippling with power, their fangs bared like wicked knives.

Their snarls echoed like thunder, shaking the ground beneath our feet. But at the head of the pack was the real prize: the King, a silverback Vanar standing eight meters tall, towering over the rest like a god among monsters.

His fur shone with a metallic gleam, silver threads running through a black mane that bristled with fury. A Savage Rank, vicious and powerful—pure carnage waiting to be unleashed. And all I could feel was the electric buzz of excitement.

I licked my lips, feeling the familiar fire ignite in my veins, that glorious rush that made everything so vivid.

My red and purple battle vest clung to my frame, stained and worn, just like me. Sixteen years old, blood-red eyes, and a heart that craved violence more than it craved air. My pulse thrummed against my skin like a war drum.

The Devourers were tense, some of them adjusting their stances as if ready to jump in. But this wasn't their fight. It was mine. Even if some of them were Beastwalker Rank, capable of ripping the King apart themselves, I didn't need their help. I didn't want it.

I'd just become a Devourer a few days ago after consuming my first behemoth-class monster on my sixteenth birthday, a Feral Rank Karkaddan. The blood was still fresh in my veins, my year as the monster still vivid in my mind, and I was itching to remember them both.

"Stay back," I snarled, raising my axe. The blade caught the last light of the setting sun, glowing with a promise of blood. "This battle's mine."

Lyra, one of the Beastwalkers, stepped forward. "Eli, maybe you should—"

"I said, stay back!" I whipped my head around, eyes blazing, my gaze boring into hers. I didn't need anyone's permission, especially not theirs. They were here to keep me safe, but I didn't want safety. I wanted the thrill. I wanted blood. The flicker of hesitation crossed their faces. They knew what I was, after all some of them had been the ones to train me before I become a Devourer.

But they couldn't keep coddling me, I had to let loose.

The King Vanar roared, beating his chest like a war drum, the sound echoing like an avalanche. I felt my grin stretch wider. My muscles coiled, and I launched myself forward, the ground cracking beneath the force. I was a blur of motion, all speed and fury. My axe swung wide, cutting through the air.

The first Vanar lunged at me, its massive hands clawing at the space where I had been. I ducked under its arm, driving my axe deep into its belly, splitting it open.

Hot, slick guts spilled out in a steaming mess, splattering my boots, and the creature's scream turned into a choking gurgle as it staggered back.

Blood sprayed in torrents, warm and sticky against my skin, and I let out a wild, manic laugh that echoed through the clearing. I wrenched my axe free, swinging it again, this time cleaving the Vanar's arm off at the shoulder. The limb fell with a sickening thud, and the creature howled in agony.

Before it could stagger away, I lunged forward, ripping a chunk of meat from its side with my free hand. I bit down, tearing into the raw, twitching flesh, savoring the hot, metallic taste as blood dribbled down my chin. It was fresh and wild, and it fueled the inferno inside me.

"Come on!" I roared at the remaining Vanar, my voice a challenge that cut through the air. I was drenched in their blood, my teeth stained with it. "Is that all you've got?!"

A second Vanar rushed me, its fangs bared in a snarl, saliva dripping from its maw. I leapt, vaulting over its back, and brought my axe down, embedding it between the beast's shoulder blades. The Vanar bucked and twisted, trying to throw me off, but I clung on, my fingers digging into the beast's thick hide. I tore a chunk of muscle free, chewing it as I rode the creature down. It crashed to the ground, thrashing wildly, and I ripped my axe free, slashing through its throat in a single, vicious motion.

The King Vanar's eyes were locked on me now, seething with fury. It charged, pounding the ground with enough force to send shockwaves through the earth. I could feel the raw power radiating off of it, the kind of strength that could shatter bones with a single blow after all he was a rank above me but I didn't care about that.

Besides it was just a mindless beast in the end, and I was me. I dodged left, feeling the rush of air as its massive fist slammed into the ground, missing me by inches.

I twisted, bringing my axe down onto its back. The blade sank deep, but the King was tougher than the rest. It roared, a sound that rattled my bones, and swung a backhand that caught me square in the ribs.

The impact sent me flying, skidding across the dirt. Pain exploded in my side, but it was a sweet kind of pain, the kind that made everything sharper. I coughed, tasting blood on my lips, and laughed as I pushed myself up. The King was already barreling toward me, and I was ready.

"Nice hit, big guy," I taunted, spinning my axe, savoring the feel of its weight. "Let's see you try again."

The King lunged, fists swinging like wrecking balls. I ducked under one, sidestepping the next, my movements controlled, looking at how each of the beast's muscles moved to predict his attacks. I feinted left, drawing the beast in, then pivoted right, swinging my axe up into its thigh.

The blade sank deep, severing muscle and tendon, and the King roared, stumbling. I didn't let up. I hacked and slashed, each strike deliberate and vicious, carving through its flesh.

I tore another piece of meat from its side, feeling the blood trickle down my throat as I devoured it. I could taste the power in every bite, the wild fury of the beast.

The King swung again, desperate, but I was already behind it, my axe cleaving into its spine. Each blow sent shudders through the massive creature, its legs buckling beneath it as it collapsed to its knees.

With a final, brutal swing, I severed its spine completely. The King crumpled, its eyes wide in shock, its roar dying in its throat as it slumped forward. I stood over it, panting, my chest heaving, drenched in blood from head to toe. The battlefield was mine, every inch of it soaked in crimson. I planted my foot on the King's back, raising my axe high, reveling in the carnage. My pulse pounded, my heart screaming for more.

"You fought well, but you don't deserve to be my next beast." I said staring down at the dead beast a whole rank above me.

As I wiped the blood from my blade and licked it from my fingers, savoring every drop, a voice whispered from the back of the circle, just loud enough for me to hear.

"That young miss… is a real maniac," Theon murmured, awe and a hint of fear lacing his words.

I turned, my smile wide, wicked, and still smeared with the blood of my kills. "Thanks, Theon," I called back, my voice dripping with pride. "I'm sure you can become a maniac too one day!"

Theon blanched, his face pale, but I saw it—the faintest flicker of a smile, like he wanted to believe it.

I let out a bark of laughter, slinging my axe over my shoulder. The taste of victory lingered, a heady, intoxicating rush that I never wanted to end.

Today, was the first day I could truly be me. And I couldn't wait for the next.