The Raven

Night falls over the city, but not all beneath its shadow rest. Theo stands atop a slanted rooftop, draped in a black cloak, the wind pulling gently at its hem. His eyes scan the streets below with a cold, deliberate focus.

The report said there's a peak Tier 2 beast in this area—a raven, if I recall correctly. My father always said the road gets lonely… maybe I should tame it. But first, I have to find it.

For hours, he leaps from rooftop to rooftop, silent as mist, the only sound the occasional creak of wood or faint hum from his mana detector. Still, nothing.

Damn it. Daybreak's coming and I've found nothing. Waste of a night.

He turns to retreat—but then a harsh, piercing cry cuts through the air, and a massive shadow sweeps above him, blotting out the stars for just a second.

Of course. It's a bird. It's going to be in the air most of the time. How did I not realize that sooner?

He bolts after the shadow, sprinting across rooftops before diving into the tree line at the edge of the city. Branch to branch, he keeps his presence low, tucking his aura inward to remain hidden from the many eyes of the forest.

Eventually, the raven lands in a clearing, and Theo finally sees it clearly. It's larger than he expected, with a wingspan nearing four meters and a body standing almost two meters tall. Its feathers are dark as obsidian and shimmer faintly with mana. Behind it rests a massive nest, and within it—three unhatched eggs, their shells faintly pulsing with life.

My luck. I don't even need the mother anymore. Her children will be easier to tame, and they'll bond from birth. Better servants by far.

With a flick of his wrist, the bracelet around his forearm twists and expands, elongating into a sleek black spear engraved with ancient patterns. He draws the weapon back slowly, channeling mana into its tip. Darkness forms at the spearhead, coiling like smoke, but unnaturally still—perfectly condensed, not a whisper of it spilling out.

He hurls the spear with precision, and the air howls as it rips forward, cutting through the branches and trees with alarming speed. But at the last moment, the raven senses it and turns, shielding itself with one massive wing. The spear slams into the feathers and sends the beast screeching in pain—but it survives.

Damn. A single clean strike would have ended it. That would've been easier for both of us.

Theo doesn't linger. He moves swiftly, vanishing into the treetops, circling the area to confuse the raven. The beast snarls and spreads its wings wide. The darkness in the area responds—flowing into her feathers—and she vanishes from sight.

Theo's eyes narrow.

Shadow Movement…

He holds his breath, sweeping the surroundings with both senses and instinct. Nothing. No movement, no presence. She's completely gone.

Then—a surge of danger behind him. Theo spins left just in time to avoid a volley of feathers, sharp as daggers, which embed themselves into the tree trunk where he stood moments before. The assault continues. More feathers fly at him from the shadows. He summons his spear again with a snap of his fingers and begins deflecting, the impacts rattling through his arms and legs, pushing him back inch by inch.

Eventually, he loses balance and is forced to jump from the branch.

The feather barrage halts, but the raven does not. With wings outstretched, it dives through the canopy and crashes into him mid-air, dragging him through bark, limbs, and leaves as they plummet together through the forest.

Pain flares across his body, but Theo grits his teeth and pushes off the raven's chest, flipping mid-air and landing roughly onto the forest floor. He rolls to his feet and snarls under his breath.

No more games.

He channels mana into the spear again, this time letting it flood through with intent. The engraved patterns light up, and black armor rapidly forms across his body—plates that cling to him like a second skin. His aura shifts from still to storm, heavy and thick.

The raven circles above, letting out a furious screech that shakes the trees.

Theo doesn't flinch. Instead, he extends his arm and points the spear skyward. "My turn."

Dark spheres coalesce at the spear's tip and shoot toward the sky like cannon fire. The raven maneuvers swiftly between them, weaving left and right in the moonlight, and then dives again, talons drawn.

Bad play.

Theo draws the spear back to his hip, compressing all his mana into the blade. The energy turns a deep midnight black, so dense that it absorbs the light around it. The raven closes in fast, her wings aglow under the moon's pale touch. As they near one another, time slows. The forest goes silent.

Then—impact.

A shockwave tears through the trees.

The raven falls.

Her body hits the ground with a thud, a single wound piercing clean through her skull. Theo lands beside her, breath ragged, his right arm hanging limp and blood dripping steadily from his fingers.

"I won," he says aloud, panting.

"Miserably," a voice murmurs from the darkness.

Theo's eyes sharpen. He summons the spear again, warily turning toward the voice.

From the trees steps an old man, leaning on a cane, his cloak billowing like smoke.

"Did we teach you nothing, young master?"

Theo lowers the spear and bows deeply. "Grandmaster Smoke."

The old man ignores the greeting and gestures toward the fallen beast with the tip of his cane.

"This raven was only peak Tier 2. It hasn't even begun manipulating elements. It barely grasps shadow techniques—and still, it managed to hide, to ambush, to defend its young, and nearly kill you. All of this… and it had no teacher. Meanwhile, you—son of two powerhouses, born with a bloodline feared across continents, trained since you could walk—look at the state you're in."

Theo's bow deepens, shame burning across his skin.

"You even had to use Dragon's Armor to survive. Tell me—why didn't you form a Shadow Clock before engaging? Why didn't you study its patterns? Wait for it to sleep? You're overconfident, reckless. That's our fault. We kept you in these empty territories too long, let you grow proud, made you think every beast would kneel before you."

Theo says nothing. Every word rings true.

Smoke's voice softens just slightly, though his eyes remain hard. "Get the eggs. You have more training to do. Especially before your coming-of-age trial… especially before that."

With a flick of his cane, both the raven's corpse and his form vanish into the shadows.

Theo finally lifts his head, and for a long moment, nothing moves. His face twists—not from pain, but from bitter realization. The pride, the disappointment, the desire to be more—all mix in his gaze.

He walks over to the nest, cradles the three eggs gently, and places them into his pouch. With a final look at the clearing, he vanishes into the night.

The forest stills.

The beasts wait.

Uncertain if the danger is over—or if something greater has just been born.