Walking through the darkened jungle floor Mike froze mid-step, his bare feet sinking into the mud. The air thickened, heavy enough that even Binyai stopped chattering on his shoulder. No cicadas, no birds, no rustle of leaves. Just the pounding of his heart and the faint hiss of breath slipping between his teeth.
Then came the sound, distant and hollow. A horn's call, low and resonant, rolling through the Amazon canopy like thunder across an empty plain. The trees shuddered at its echo.
Binyai's claws dug into Mike's skin. His voice was sharp, urgent.
"Woden is here."
Mike's lips peeled into a grin, though his eyes burned with something darker. "Good. Last time he ran."
The jungle shook. Branches twisted as if caught in an unseen wind. Roots curled up from the ground, gnarled and wet with moss, cutting off paths in every direction.
Then the growls came.
From the shadows between the trees, pale shapes padded forward. Hounds, massive and gaunt, their fur patchy and matted with blood, eyes glowing like fire. Their jaws gaped too wide, teeth glistening as they panted with anticipation. There were half a dozen at first, then a dozen, their bodies flickering between beast and phantom as they formed a ring around Mike.
Binyai hissed, leaping from his shoulder into the canopy. "Spectral hounds. Devour them or they will reform."
Mike cracked his neck, fire bleeding across his skin in jagged veins. "Then I'll start with the dogs."
The first hound lunged, its weight slamming into Mike's chest. Its claws raked down his ribs, leaving burning trails that didn't heal right away. He snarled and clamped his claws around its skull, twisting until bone and shadow cracked in tandem. The corpse turned to smoke before it hit the dirt.
The others howled, overlapping until the sound shook the leaves loose from the canopy. They came at once, fangs tearing, claws slashing at him. Mike met them head-on, ripping one in half by its jaws, using the carcass as a bludgeon to shatter another's ribs. Their blood sprayed hot across his arms, searing and turning to smoke as it touched.
Even through the frenzy, he felt Woden's presence.
From deeper in the trees, heavy footsteps sounded, deliberate, unhurried, each one pressing into the soil. The hounds shifted instantly, snapping back to the edges of the clearing as though driven by instinct. Their howls cut short, replaced by silence.
And then he appeared.
The figure stepped into view, antlers scraping the canopy, each branch etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly. His cloak trailed in tatters, drinking the color from the jungle around him. In his hand, the golden spear gleamed with its own light, untouched by the damp and decay of the forest.
His eyes fixed on Mike, cold and merciless.
"Dragon," Woden said, his voice carrying like the horn itself. "We are not finished."
Mike's claws flexed, blood still dripping from his kill. His grin widened. "Good. This time, I'll devour you."
The god's eyes burned cold as his voice filled the clearing.
"You killed my Chosen. You tore Hunter from me. The bond between us, shattered." His tone was calm, but the ground seemed to tremble beneath the weight of it. "Now I will take from you until nothing remains."
Mike spat into the dirt, fire already bleeding through his skin. "You tried this once before. You couldn't finish it then, and you won't now."
Woden's jaw tightened. "Last time, you ran."
Mike's grin sharpened. "Last time, you attacked I was weak. Now you're fucked."
Neither moved for a breath. The silence between them stretched until it felt like the jungle itself might crack under the tension.
Then Woden stepped forward. Just one stride but the weight of it bent the roots, shook the soil, sent leaves tumbling from the canopy. His spear leveled, runes flaring bright.
Mike exploded forward at the same instant, claws flashing, fire roaring in his chest.
The first clash shook the clearing. Claw met spear, golden light screaming against flame. The impact sent a shockwave through the trees, toppling branches, rattling the earth. Mike lunged with raw fury, jaws snapping for Woden's throat, but the god twisted, bringing the haft of his spear down across Mike's jaw like a hammer.
Pain burst white in his vision, but Mike laughed, blood spilling down his chin. He swung again, his claws carving arcs of fire through the air.
Woden met them with precision, his spear whirling in tight, perfect movements, deflecting every strike, punishing every opening with crushing blows that sent sparks flying from Mike's scales.
"Stronger," Woden said, his voice low, almost approving as he drove a knee into Mike's ribs. "But still a beast."
Mike staggered back, growling deep, his grin unbroken. "Stop talking. You sound like the angels."
And he launched again, teeth bared, claws tearing, flame scorching the ground between them. The clash thundered through the clearing, but this time Woden felt it, raw, suffocating force. Mike's claws didn't just scrape against the spear; blood dripped from his hands, each impact splintering the air with shockwaves that rattled his bones.
Woden pivoted, bringing the haft of his weapon around in a wide sweep meant to stagger the beast, but Mike caught it in one hand, claws digging into the golden shaft, flame surging through his veins.
"Slow," Mike snarled, fangs bared.
With a savage wrench, he ripped the spear aside and lunged, shoulder-first, slamming into Woden with the weight of a collapsing mountain. The god was hurled back, his boots carving trenches in the soil before he could brace himself.
Mike didn't give him the chance. He was on him instantly, claws hammering down in a relentless flurry. Each strike tore gouges in Woden's cloak, ripped chunks from his armor, cracks spiderwebbing across the runes on his antlers.
The hunter tried to parry, spear flashing in tight arcs, but every defense shattered under the sheer brutality of Mike's assault. His golden weapon bent under the strain, the air shrieking as flames wrapped around it.
"You think you're hunting me?" Mike roared, slamming his forehead into Woden's face. Bone cracked. Blood sprayed. "You're as dumb as all the others who come for me. You missed your chance last time."
Woden staggered, his eyes narrowing, his grip on the spear faltering for the first time. He thrust forward desperately, the golden point lancing toward Mike's heart.
Mike caught it in his grasp.
The runes flared, gold light burning his flesh but fire erupted from Mike's palm, consuming the spear's glow, eating through it like acid. With a vicious snarl, he snapped the weapon in half, tossing the pieces aside.
The jungle quaked as Woden's aura faltered, his vessel's body suddenly mortal enough to bleed freely. Mike lunged, claws raking across his chest, tearing through skin and muscle, leaving deep burning wounds.
Woden fell back, breath ragged, his antlers dimming. He raised a hand to conjure another weapon, but Mike's tail whipped around and smashed into his ribs with a crack that echoed like thunder. The god went sprawling into the roots of an ancient tree, the impact splintering its trunk.
Mike advanced slowly now, savoring the sight, this so-called master of the Wild Hunt, staggering, bloodied, his cloak torn to rags.
Woden spat blood into the dirt and forced himself upright, eyes blazing with stubborn fury. But even his voice betrayed him when he spoke.
"You… are not supposed to exist."
Mike's grin was all teeth and blood. "And yet… here I am."
He lunged again, claws raised, fire boiling in his throat, this time to finish it.