The Abyss Stirs

The forest was no longer a place of life.

Where once towering trees stood proud and full of vitality, now their bark withered under an unseen force. The land had begun to change, infected by the presence of the Devourer. The very air felt heavy, soaked in an invisible energy that drained warmth and replaced it with something unnatural.

It was spreading.

Not just its power—but its will.

The Devourer stood atop a mound of bones, remnants of the warriors it had consumed. Their flesh had long since been stripped away, their essence absorbed into its growing form.

And yet, even after such a feast, its hunger remained.

No… it had only just begun.

---

Echoes of the Past

A flicker of memory surfaced.

It was not its own—no, it belonged to the ones it had devoured. Their knowledge, their emotions, their fear—all of it now resided within the Devourer.

It saw flashes of their lives.

A village celebrating a festival beneath a full moon. Laughter and warmth. A family waiting at home for a father who would never return.

The Devourer's claws twitched.

These visions… why did they feel familiar?

For the first time, the beast did not simply crave destruction.

It questioned.

What am I?

The answer, however, remained buried in the depths of its awakening mind.

But something else stirred within.

Something older.

Something that had been sealed away.

---

A Hunter Arrives

Far beyond the cursed forest, the message had been received.

The capital had ignored the village's initial plea. Monsters were common in the wilds, and unless a bounty was placed, no action would be taken.

But then, the second report arrived.

Not of a mere beast. Not of a single massacre.

But of corruption.

A taint that twisted the land itself.

That was something that could not be ignored.

And so, they sent him.

A lone rider approached the village's ruined gates. He wore no elaborate armor, no grand insignia to mark him as royalty.

Only a long black coat, the edges tattered from countless battles. Across his back rested a weapon too large for a normal man to wield—a blade forged from the remains of fallen horrors.

His name was Vaelin Duskbane.

And he was a Hunter of the Abyss.

---

The Village's Last Hope

Kara nearly dropped her sword when she saw the man step through the ruined gates.

"You… you're real," she whispered.

Vaelin's golden eyes locked onto her, scanning her bruised and exhausted form. "You're the survivor," he stated. It wasn't a question.

She nodded numbly. "The others… they went into the forest. They never came back."

Vaelin exhaled slowly. "Then they're gone."

A chill ran down Kara's spine. "You don't even know what happened to them."

"I don't need to," he replied, unsheathing his greatsword. The blackened steel gleamed in the fading sunlight. "If they faced it, they didn't survive."

Elder Garon stepped forward, his face grim. "Do you know what this thing is?"

Vaelin was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the darkened treeline.

Then, he answered.

"It's not a monster."

"It's a Herald of the Abyss."

A wave of silence fell over the gathered villagers.

Kara's fists clenched. "Then you can kill it, right?"

Vaelin tilted his head slightly. "I can try."

---

Abyssborn vs. Abyss Hunter

The Devourer felt it before it saw him.

A presence unlike any other.

A mind that had touched the Abyss—and survived.

As it turned, crimson eyes locking onto the lone figure stepping through the decayed forest, something deep within its being recognized the man.

The Abyss itself whispered.

He is one of the last.

He is one of the few who can stand against us.

The Devourer's lips curled into a snarl.

Then let him try.

Vaelin Duskbane did not hesitate.

The ground cracked beneath his feet as he surged forward, his massive blade howling through the air. The Devourer barely had time to react before the impact struck, sending it hurtling through the trees.

It roared, lashing out with its claws, but Vaelin moved with inhuman precision, dodging with ease. His sword came down again, carving deep into the beast's flesh.

Pain.

Real pain.

The Devourer's blood hissed as it touched the cursed steel of Vaelin's weapon. This man was no ordinary warrior. He had been forged in battle against things like it.

But the Devourer was not just another beast.

It was evolving.

It would learn.

And it would win.

---

The Battle Unleashed

The clash between the Abyssborn and the Hunter shook the forest. Trees shattered like twigs as their blows met, sending shockwaves through the land.

Vaelin fought like a man possessed, his every strike guided by years of battle. But the Devourer was adapting, its movements becoming sharper, its wounds healing faster.

It was not just resisting.

It was growing stronger with each exchange.

Vaelin cursed under his breath. "You're learning too damn fast."

The Devourer laughed.

A sound no beast should have been able to make.

Then, it struck.

With a burst of unnatural speed, it slammed into Vaelin, sending him crashing into a ruined pillar. Blood dripped from the hunter's lips as he struggled to rise.

For the first time in years, he felt something he had almost forgotten.

Doubt.

The Devourer loomed over him, its crimson gaze glowing brighter than ever.

For the first time since its awakening…

It had a name.

The whispers of the Abyss spoke to it, revealing what had been buried deep in its being.

It was no longer just a mindless Devourer.

It was Nyxthar, Heir of the Abyss.

And it would not stop until the world knew fear.