Chapter 10 - The Hunt Begins

The world snapped back into focus with a violent lurch.

Eryon stumbled forward, his boots sinking into the soft moss of the forest floor. Towering trees stretched endlessly toward the heavens, their dense canopy allowing only specks of sunlight to pierce through. Thick vines and dense foliage surrounded him, the air heavy with the scent of earth and the faint metallic tang of unseen beasts.

His heart raced. He tightened his grip on the small dagger issued before the test—hardly more than a toothpick against the dangers that lurked here.

Stay calm, he reminded himself. Three days. Survive for three days.

No sooner had he taken a few cautious steps than a blur of movement caught his eye.

From the underbrush, a creature burst forth—a small beast at first glance, resembling a rabbit. But this was no harmless animal.

Its eyes gleamed with an unnatural intelligence. A sharp, spiraled horn jutted from its forehead, and its muscular legs propelled it forward with frightening speed. Its claws dug into the earth as it circled Eryon, muscles tense and ready to spring.

Eryon shifted into a defensive stance, adrenaline surging through his veins.

The "Horned Hare," he realized. He had heard stories—deceptively cute creatures, vicious and relentless, capable of goring larger prey with terrifying precision.

Without warning, the creature lunged.

Eryon dodged, barely evading the horn aimed at his chest. The beast twisted in midair, landing and pivoting with startling agility.

He couldn't outrun it. He had to face it.

The Horned Hare charged again. This time, Eryon sidestepped at the last second, feeling the wind of the creature's passing against his skin. He lashed out with his dagger, grazing its flank.

The beast screeched, more enraged than wounded.

It attacked again and again, a relentless storm of rapid lunges. Eryon fought with every ounce of training he'd received—dodging, weaving, counterattacking where he could. Each time, the creature's movements grew more erratic, its horn gleaming under the scattered beams of light.

Finally, as it lunged once more, Eryon feinted to the side, planted his feet, and drove his dagger into the base of its neck.

The Horned Hare shrieked once, convulsed, and fell still.

Panting, Eryon wiped the blood from his brow and knelt beside the fallen beast. Digging carefully, he retrieved a small, pulsing core from its chest—a Rank One beast core.

His first trophy.

He looked around the dense, shadowy forest.

One down, he thought grimly.

Many more to go.