Rowan landed softly on the damp soil, the faint hum of mana pulsing under his boots. His breath fogged in the cold air as his eyes swept across the shadowed woods.
"My parents always told me not to come here," he muttered. "Too many monsters… and none of them friendly."
He adjusted his grip on his sword, its faint blue gleam cutting through the dark. "And yet, here I am."
He spread his mana sense outward. The forest sharpened in his perception — every leaf, every trembling blade of grass. But nothing moved. Not a single animal. Not even the faint buzz of insects.
"…Strange," he murmured. "It's too quiet."
Then, it hit him — a low pulse, like a heartbeat rippling through the earth. It wasn't just mana. It was heavier… colder… ancient.
A strange energy.
Rowan's eyes widened. "There it is again. The same energy I felt days ago…" He turned sharply toward the source. "So it was real."
In an instant, he kicked off the ground, wind tearing past his face as he soared above the treetops. The forest below blurred into streaks of green and black, until—
He stopped midair.
A vast clearing stretched before him, bathed in pale moonlight.
And there — standing at its center — was a beast.
Its fur shimmered like starlit obsidian, and its eyes glowed with golden fire that pierced the night. Each breath it took warped the air, bending the very mana around it.
Rowan froze. His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
"A… Fenrir," he whispered.
The creature's gaze turned toward him. It was calm, ancient — yet filled with something primal, something beyond comprehension.
Then it spoke, its voice deep and resonant, echoing across the forest like rolling thunder.
"A human?"
Rowan instinctively raised his blade, his mana flaring. "I could ask the same thing. What's a Fenrir doing this close to human lands?"
The great wolf tilted its head, its golden eyes narrowing.
"You stand before a creature that once ruled these forests… and you dare to question it?"
The pressure slammed into Rowan like a physical force, sending ripples through the ground. Trees groaned, leaves scattered, and his knees nearly buckled — but he held his stance.
"Rule or not," he said through clenched teeth, "this isn't your territory anymore."
The Fenrir's eyes gleamed, and a faint smirk — or what passed for one — crossed its muzzle.
"Interesting."
The wind howled. A surge of mana rolled through the clearing, shaking the trees to their roots. The Fenrir's claws dug into the earth, and its massive form began to shimmer with light — not ordinary light, but raw, untamed power.
Rowan stood his ground, the weight of the Fenrir's gaze pressing down on him like a mountain. The enormous wolf towered above him, fur shimmering like black steel, eyes burning with golden fire.
He swallowed hard but didn't back down. His sword hummed faintly in his hand.
"I only read about you in books," Rowan said quietly. "But here you are — right in front of me. Face to face."
His grip tightened. "Everyone who's ever seen a Fenrir… didn't live to tell the story. But there were a few who did. Just enough for people to write about you."
For a heartbeat, silence filled the clearing. Then — a deep rumble echoed, shaking the ground. It took Rowan a moment to realize it was laughter.
The Fenrir's voice boomed like thunder, cold yet faintly amused.
"Hah. A human who can read — and still dares to talk to me like that."
The creature's golden eyes narrowed. "You're young… far too young. And yet your tone—" It stepped forward, the ground cracking under its claws. "—sounds like someone who's seen more than a lifetime."
Rowan didn't move. His aura flared softly, like a sleeping storm.
"You talk too much," he said, raising his sword. "If you're going to test me, then stop talking and fight."
The Fenrir's fur bristled, a grin curling across its muzzle.
"Interesting. I think I'll enjoy this."
A gust of mana burst outward as its claws dug deep into the earth. "Try not to die too quickly, human."
Rowan exhaled slowly, lowering his stance. "Funny… I was about to say the same thing."
The wind suddenly screamed — raw mana condensed around the Fenrir's body, forming a spiraling cyclone. The entire forest bent with the force, trees snapping like twigs.
"So it's true," Rowan whispered, eyes narrowing. "They say Fenrirs wield the power of wind itself. Strong enough to slice a mountain in half."
He smiled faintly, excitement flashing in his eyes. "This… might actually be fun."
The cyclone exploded. A massive blade of compressed air tore through the forest, heading straight for him.
Rowan's eyes flashed. He raised his sword in one clean motion —
Clang!
The air split.
The attack dispersed into ribbons of harmless breeze, scattering leaves into the moonlight. Rowan's boots dug into the ground, his stance unshaken.
Fenrir blinked — just once. Then its grin widened.
"Not bad, human. Not bad at all."