Finale

The cavern roared as fire consumed it from within. The explosion had done more than simply clear the swarm—it had ignited everything. Flames licked at the crumbling rock, their glow illuminating the chaos as smoke coiled toward the cavern's ceiling. The heat was suffocating, burning through the last pockets of breathable air. The walls cracked and groaned, threatening to collapse entirely.

Elyn gritted his teeth and forced himself up, his body screaming in protest. His suit, once his shield, was now damaged badly. His right arm throbbed with unbearable pain, blood seeping through the scorched fabric. The world blurred from exhaustion and the thickening smoke, but he had no choice.

Climb or die.

He grabbed at the jagged rocks, ignoring the burning pain that shot through his torn palms. The stone was hot, coated in soot and ash, making every pull upwards a test of endurance. He could hear the cavern's death throes behind him—cracking, collapsing, burning.

The ascent was slow. His bleeding hands slipped more than once, and his boots barely found purchase against the crumbling stone. His breath was ragged, each inhalation filled with ash that scorched his throat. Everything hurt. But he climbed anyway, his body moving on sheer will alone.

A sudden gust of wind blasted down from above, colder than the fire raging below. He was close.

Just as his fingers curled around the final ledge, a shadow moved above him.

The wolf.

It had been waiting. Watching. It had known he would escape.

Elyn barely saw the blur of motion through the smoke before he acted on pure instinct. His left hand shot down to his waist—his last dagger.

He hurled it.

The wolf reacted in a blink, twisting its body mid-leap. The blade slashed its shoulder instead of its throat, but it was enough. The beast stumbled back, forced to readjust.

That single moment of hesitation was all Elyn needed.

With a final surge of strength, he dragged himself up onto the ledge. He barely had time to roll away before the wolf lunged again.

The final battle had begun.

The moment Elyn's boots touched solid ground, the wolf was already in motion. No hesitation. No respite.

It struck.

Elyn barely got his left arm up in time. The force of the impact sent him skidding backward, his heels digging furrows into the frostbitten earth. His forearm burned from the blow, the lingering damage from earlier making every movement a test of endurance.

The forest had changed.

The storm had begun.

Snow swirled violently around them, blurring the edges of the battlefield. The wind howled through the trees, rattling the frozen branches as though the very forest itself was bearing witness to their final clash. Every breath was ice. Every movement slow.

Both combatants stood motionless for a heartbeat, breathing hard, eyes locked.

Elyn's cloak was in tatters, hanging from his shoulders like a ruined banner. His right arm was completely useless now, the pain a dull, fading throb in the background of his mind. His ears were bleeding, crimson mixing with the frost clinging to his skin.

The Shadow Mane wolf fared no better. Deep gashes marred its sleek black fur. It had lost the advantage of complete mobility—Elyn's previous strikes had done their job. Its hind leg trembled slightly, barely supporting its weight.

They were both at their limits.

This was no longer a battle of skill. This was survival.

Then—they moved.

The storm raged. The battle resumed.

The moment Elyn's boots touched solid ground, the wolf was already in motion. No hesitation. No respite.

It struck.

Elyn barely got his left arm up in time. The force of the impact sent him skidding backward, his heels digging furrows into the frostbitten earth. His forearm burned from the blow, the lingering damage from earlier making every movement a test of endurance.

He retaliated.

A deep slash along the wolf's ribs—not enough to kill, but enough to make it falter.

The wolf howled, twisting back with another swipe.

Elyn ducked. The claws tore through the air just above his head, barely missing him.

Again, the wolf circled. Again, it charged.

Again, Elyn countered.

At the last second, he leaped onto a fallen tree trunk, flipping over the beast's lunging form.

His dagger struck.

The blade buried deep into its hind leg.

The wolf staggered, its back leg finally giving out.

For the first time—it struggled to stand.

And for the first time—Elyn saw his chance.

This would be the final moment.

The snow blinded them. The wind deafened them. But neither stopped.

The wolf lunged.

Elyn had no time to raise his blade. No time to dodge. No time to think.

So he did the only thing left.

He bit down on the wolf's throat.

With a snarl, he sank his teeth deep into its flesh, the taste of blood filling his mouth, hot and bitter.

The wolf's own fangs latched onto his side, tearing into him.

Pain exploded through Elyn's body, but he refused to let go.

Neither did the beast.

They were locked in a deadlock.

Its claws raked across his back, its weight pushing him down. It was trying to rip him apart.

But Elyn had something left.

His dagger.

With one last, desperate effort—he drove it into the wolf's throat.

Deep.

All the way to the hilt.

The wolf's body jerked violently. Its silver eyes widened in shock.

Blood poured.

Its breath turned ragged.

And then—it stopped.

Elyn twisted the blade one final time. The wolf let out one last, shuddering exhale before its body slumped.

It was dead.

Elyn collapsed beside the beast, his body barely responding.

His right arm was ruined. His side was torn open. His breath was shallow, the cold threatening to steal it entirely.

Above him, the storm raged on.

Elyn's vision darkened.

And the world faded to black.