The creature lunged.
Nizara barely had time to react as its jagged claw slammed into the ground beside him, kicking up soil and debris like a thunderstorm hitting the earth. He moved on instinct, Swiftstride activating in a pulse of electricity as he zipped to the creature's flank, slashing with his blade. Lightning sizzled as his sword met shadowed bone — but it barely pierced the monster's hide.
The beast turned with inhuman speed and backhanded him across the grove.
Nizara crashed through a tree trunk, tumbling through the air before landing hard on his side. He gasped, blood dripping from his mouth.
His body screamed.
But he stood.
He always stood.
He roared and dashed again, this time going low and fast, blade flickering with crackling thunder. He slid under the beast's legs, jumped onto its back, and stabbed the glowing runes carved into its shoulders.
The creature shrieked, smoke and black blood hissing from the wound.
For a moment, he thought he had it.
Until the shadows beneath the shrine surged upward — binding his legs, his torso, his arms.
He thrashed violently.
"No—"
But it was too late.
The beast's claw, now covered in cursed symbols, came crashing down.
Darkness.
Everything went black.
Nizara didn't dream.
He only heard the voice again, faint and distant now.
"You're not dead yet. That must mean something."
When Nizara's eyes opened, he was lying on the damp forest floor. Leaves stuck to his skin, dried blood streaked his jaw. His chest ached with every breath. He could barely feel his fingers.
The pain grounded him.
He groaned, trying to push himself up — and that's when he saw them.
Four silhouettes.
Weapons in hand.
Standing at the edge of his weakened vision.
"Is that him?"
"Yeah. That's the guy who destroyed the camera yesterday."
"He's unconscious. Let's kill him before he wakes."
They moved closer.
Nizara didn't even twitch.
One of the attackers raised his blade.
That was their mistake.
Because even near-death… Nizara never slept lightly.
His eyes snapped open, gleaming gold and sharp like a predator's.
Before the first blade came down, he whispered:
"Stormlash."
A ripple of lightning burst from his body in a sudden explosion. The nearest attacker flew back, body convulsing as his armor sparked and hissed. Another competitor, trying to stab him from the side, caught a knee to the face — Nizara spun into him, grabbed his shoulder mid-motion, and slammed him headfirst into the dirt.
The third attacker was fast — sword already coming in for a precise, neck-level strike.
But Nizara was faster.
He ducked low, slid forward, and used a move he hadn't yet revealed.
"Phantom Strike."
He vanished for a blink — reappeared behind his attacker — and slashed a single, clean line across his back. The man dropped, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Only one remained — wide-eyed and already backing up.
Nizara didn't pursue.
He stood, shoulders hunched from pain but sword still crackling with power. Blood ran down his arms.
"Go ahead," he said, voice cold. "Run. Like the rest of your kind."
The last attacker turned and bolted into the trees.
Silence returned.
But Nizara didn't relax.
He turned to the shadows of the forest and spat into the leaves. "Come at me while I'm bleeding and unconscious… and still fail?" He narrowed his eyes. "Pathetic."
He staggered back toward the cliff edge overlooking the forest canopy and collapsed against the trunk of an old oak, breathing heavily.
His hands trembled. Not from fear — but from exhaustion and something else…
That voice again.
Lurking in the back of his mind.
Watching.
"You could have died, Nizara."
"You let me die," Nizara thought bitterly.
"You weren't ready. But you will be."
He didn't respond.
Instead, he closed his eyes and muttered to himself, "I'll get stronger. I don't care what I have to do. I won't lose again."
Then he looked at his hand.
The lightning around it had changed — thinner, darker, almost… corrupted.
Nizara gritted his teeth.
"I didn't ask for this power. But if it's the only way to win…"
He stood, sword slung over his back.
"…Then I'll take it further."
The Forest of Death was still alive with danger, and dozens of competitors were still out there — squads forming alliances, some hunting, some hiding.
But one thing was now certain.
The hunter had reawakened.
And Nizara wasn't holding back anymore.
*To Be Continued*