Dom sighed as he moved through the forest just outside of town, boots crunching softly against fallen leaves and loose gravel. He kept kicking the same stone along the dirt path, sending it skittering ahead of him again and again, as if bruising it might somehow ease the irritation simmering in his chest.
"I really, really hate that guy," he muttered, finally abandoning the stone to hop over a fallen tree trunk slick with moss.
His brows furrowed as a thought surfaced, unwelcome but persistent. Even though they were closer, they couldn't sense that guy's magic.
The memory replayed itself—how no one else had noticed anything off, how alone he'd felt in that moment.
A smirk tugged at his lips despite himself. Maybe sensing other people's magic is my special ability.
He slowed when he spotted it: an apple tree heavy with fruit, its branches slightly damp, apples red and full, gleaming invitingly through the leaves. His annoyance softened, replaced by reluctant resolve.
"Well, since I can't prove they cheated," he said under his breath, "I just have to do it."
He rolled up his sleeves and began to climb, fingers digging into rough bark.
"Besides," he added, hauling himself up, "proudly facing villains like Matt is what a Great Magic Knight would do."
Perched on a sturdy branch, he began plucking apples, dropping them carefully to the ground below.
"Maybe I'll bring everyone two or three," he chuckled, reaching for another. "Just to show how awesome I am—"
He froze.
Birds exploded from the trees around him, their sudden cries sharp and frantic as they scattered into the sky. Dom's body stiffened, every muscle locking as his heart skipped a beat.
He scanned the forest, eyes darting. Just seconds ago, everything had felt fine—peaceful, even—but now a dangerous chill crawled up his spine. The air felt heavier, thicker, as though the forest itself were holding its breath.
The quiet that followed the birds' escape was wrong, oppressive, and Dom couldn't shake the sensation of being watched.
His eyes widened. Wait. Didn't they say something about a wild animal?
Another burst of wings erupted deeper in the woods, fleeing from something unseen.
That was enough.
Dom let the apples fall and started climbing down in a hurry, his movements clumsy with rising panic. "I don't care what they say," he muttered, breath quickening. "I'm not dying because of some stupid bet."
He was halfway down when his senses screamed.
A gust of wind slammed into him.
He shouted as he was ripped from the tree, crashing onto his back with a bone-jarring thud that knocked the air from his lungs.
"Ow… ow… ow," he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his already aching back.
Then he heard it—a familiar, grating laugh.
Anger flooded his expression as he looked up.
"Come on, Snow White," Matt said, stopping in front of him, hands tucked casually into his pockets. "I thought apple picking was your specialty."
His lackeys snickered behind him.
Dom shot to his feet, fists clenched. "Seriously?! What's your problem? You pick on me, you cheat, and now you won't even let me work in peace. What did I ever do to you?"
Matt's mocking smile twisted into something uglier. He stepped closer, chin lifted despite being slightly shorter. "I can't stand you. You have no affinity, you're poor—and yet everyone likes you." His voice sharpened. "I have everything you don't, and nobody wants to be my friend."
Dom blinked, the fire in his glare dimming into disbelief. "Seriously? That's what this is about?" He laughed, shaking his head. "You really are a royal dumbass."
Matt clicked his tongue. "That's it. I'm tired of you running that dirty mouth." Wind coiled around his raised hands, rustling leaves and grass. "I'll show you what magic really is."
Dom instinctively stepped back, noticing the lackeys also preparing their spells. He drew a steadying breath, bracing himself—then paused.
Four?
His eyes widened as he noticed the tall, cloaked figure standing behind the boys.
"Sounds like fun," the stranger said pleasantly. "Can I join in?"
The three boys spun around, shock written across their faces.
"And who the hell are you?" Matt demanded.
The man smiled beneath his hood, disfigured teeth catching the light. "Just an observer."
As the boys exchanged uneasy looks, Dom backed away shakily, eyes locked on the stranger.
What… what is that?
Green mana poured off the man's body—thick, heavy, and terrifying. Dom was the only one who seemed to feel it.
"Whatever, weirdo," Matt scoffed, puffing up with false confidence. "Stay away from me, or I'll tell my dad. He's the Chief."
The lackeys nodded, oblivious to the dark stains soaking the man's cloak.
"I'd love to," the man said, placing a hand on his stomach as it growled. "But I haven't eaten since last night. And I've always wondered what young mages taste like." He licked his lips.
Unease finally crept in.
"This guy's giving me the creeps," the first lackey muttered.
Matt raised an arm, irritation flashing across his face.
"Don't—!" Dom shouted as mana swirled around Matt's hand.
Too late.
A blast of wind slammed into the man. "I said go away," Matt declared—then froze as the spell dissipated harmlessly against the stranger's body.
The man stepped forward.
Matt snarled and fired again, this time stronger, the bushes behind them shaking violently. Still, the man remained untouched, his cloak shredded to reveal scarred, tattooed skin streaked with dried blood.
"Wind magic," the man murmured. "Just like me." His emerald eyes glowed as he tore off the remains of his cloak. "My turn."
He swung his arm.
Blood splattered across Dom's face, warm and wet, as Matt stared in disbelief at the space where his left arm had been. A heartbeat later, the severed limb hit the ground with a dull thud.
Matt collapsed, screaming, clutching the bleeding stump. "My hand! My hand!"
The second lackey screamed and hurled a conjured rock—but the man's counter was instantaneous. Wind screamed through the clearing, slicing the boy's attacking arm and head clean off, the force continuing through the trees behind him.
The body fell, and the last boy ran.
"Mummy!" He screams in horror.
A sharp upward gesture.
The wind split him vertically, blood spraying as both halves crumpled to the forest floor.
The man sighed contentedly. "It's always nice to watch prey run."
He turned back to Matt—then frowned. "Hmm?"
Blue mana residue shimmered faintly in the bushes. One of them escaped.
"A sneaky one," he chuckled. "At least one knows how to give chase."
With a dismissive wave, Matt's body tore apart, his screams ending abruptly.
Several meters away, Dom ran.
Branches tore at his arms as he forced his way through the forest, lungs burning, heart hammering so hard it drowned out everything else. He didn't look back. He didn't need to. The air itself trembled behind him, heavy with something vast and hungry.
He killed them. He killed them!
A crushing pressure slammed into his senses.
Dom twisted on instinct just as a massive blade of wind tore past him, cleaving straight through a thick tree ahead. The trunk slid apart and crashed down with a deafening crack.
He froze, staring—then felt the sting on his cheek. Warm blood trickled down his face.
"I knew you were special."
Dom spun around.
Elon stepped from between the trees, blood coating his hand, emerald eyes glowing with excitement.
"You sensed it," Elon said calmly. "And dodged."
He lifted his hand and licked the blood from his fingers. "I only had time to taste those boys. Their mana was awful—like poorly cooked fish."
His gaze locked onto Dom's flickering blue aura.
"But yours…" Elon smiled, saliva dripping from his lips. "…yours will be different. I can smell it."
Dom staggered back, legs shaking. "I—I don't want to die."
Elon chuckled. "Neither do animals. But we still eat them." His voice softened. "That's nature, my beautiful prey."
He crouched.
The forest exploded as a violent gust slammed into Dom, hurling him to the ground. Pain ripped through his body as he gasped for air.
"You can't escape."
The voice came from behind.
Dom's blood ran cold as his body sensed a hand reaching for his back.
Pops… help…
Elon's fingers brushed his skin just as a jet of flames tore through the woods.
The fire carved a blazing path between Dom and the reaching hand, swallowing the space where the cannibal stood and forcing him to recoil with a sharp, irritated groan.
Heat rushed past Dom's face, searing the air itself, and for a split second, his world became nothing but roaring flame and blinding light.
The attacker leapt backward, landing several meters away as smoke curled from his right arm. The flesh there was blackened, cracked, and still faintly glowing, the smell of burnt meat cutting through the blood-soaked air.
"Who's there?!" the man snarled, emerald eyes flashing as he glared down the scorched trail.
The flames dispersed.
Dom blinked.
He realized he wasn't on the ground anymore.
Strong arms held Dom effortlessly, lifting him as though he weighed nothing. His breath hitched as his vision steadied, settling on the face of the man who had intervened.
He was old—older than Dom had expected—but not weak. Deep lines marked his face, carved there by time, heat, and battle. His hair was ash-gray, pulled back loosely, and his beard was trimmed short, singed at the ends as if flames were never far from him. Most striking of all were his eyes.
They glowed.
A deep rose-red, steady and calm, like embers buried beneath a mountain of ash.
"You good?" the man asked, his voice low and grounded, cutting through the ringing in Dom's ears.
Dom tried to speak. Nothing came out. His throat worked uselessly before he managed a stiff nod.
The man's grip adjusted slightly, careful—gentle, even. "Alright," he said quietly. "I've got you."
He set Dom down behind him, positioning himself between the boy and the carnage without even looking back. The act was effortless, practiced. Protective.
Across the clearing, the attacker flexed his burned hand, teeth bared in irritation as flakes of charred flesh fell away.
"You've got some nerve," the man growled, voice sharp with rage, "interrupting my hunt."
The older man straightened slowly.
Only then did Dom notice the uniform.
Black, reinforced, and battle-worn, lined with faint blue seams that almost pulsed softly with mana. A long white coat hung from the man's shoulders, its edges patterned with red-yellow flames that seemed to flicker even while still. On the center of his back was a symbol every citizen of the South knew by heart—
A black beast, fangs bared.
The number 3 was etched boldly beneath it.
"Elon Kruger," the man said, voice steady as stone. "The Mage Cannibal."
The name landed like a death sentence.
"You were being transported to the Capital for execution," the man continued, turning fully now, his back broad and unmoving. "Your suppressor cuffs failed. You escaped."
Elon's grin widened as his glowing green eyes dragged over the bow and arrow insignia on the man's chest, then up to the face.
"A Magic Knight," he said slowly, savoring the words. "Did they really send someone like you after me?" His gaze sharpened. "So who the hell are you supposed to be?"
The Knight didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he took a single step forward.
"An old timer," he said at last, "who happened to be nearby."
Behind him, Dom stared.
The heat pouring off the Knight was growing now—thick, oppressive, pressing against Dom's skin. Red mana leaked from the man's body like smoke from a forge, warping the air around him.
Elon chuckled softly. "Doesn't matter who you are. You interrupted my hunt."
He licked his lips, eyes flicking briefly toward Dom before returning to the Knight.
"And for that, you'll die. At least…" His smile widened. "…you look like someone with a strong taste."
The Knight tilted his head back, eyes closing.
For a moment, he looked almost tired.
"I heard about what you did," he said quietly. "The people you slaughtered before you were captured. The bodies in the sewers."
His hands clenched at his sides. "The two hunters you devoured here."
Dom flinched as the Knight's aura surged, heat washing over him in a suffocating wave.
"I also just found the three boys."
The silence that followed was heavy—absolute.
"Judging by their size," the Knight continued, his voice tightening, "they were about this one's age."
A pause.
"They probably hadn't even gotten their first girl."
Blood dripped from his clenched fists, sizzling as it hit the scorched ground.
"And yet, they were slaughtered like animals."
Elon tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. "We are animals," he replied calmly, raising his remaining hand, palm up.
"I got hungry. I found prey. I hunted."
A faint smile crept across his face.
"Nothing more. Nothing less."
The Knight turned slowly, red eyes burning as they locked onto Elon's.
"Is that how much value a human life holds to you?"
Elon looked down at his blood-stained hand, studying it like a chef examining his work. "Human life is the greatest gift of nature," he said reverently. "Their meat tastes divine."
His grin stretched wider.
"And their mana—each flavor unique. It's an experience beyond compare."
A vein pulsed violently on the Knight's forehead.
"The Capital ordered me to capture you," he said, voice trembling now—not with fear, but fury. "But after hearing this…"
His eyes snapped open, blazing crimson.
"…I'll send you to hell myself."
The clearing ignited.
Crimson light exploded outward as the Knight's aura flared, heat crashing into the forest like a living thing. Trees groaned. The ground cracked. Leaves burst into flame midair.
Elon's grin widened impossibly as he spread his arms, welcoming it.