The Vale burned.
Night fell heavy over the shattered land, but its darkness was anything but still. Flames licked from broken trees, shadows slithered across the ash, and the air reeked of blood both human and beast. Hunters screamed, steel clashed, and companions roared against the swarm that poured endlessly from the forest's heart.
Ethan moved like a man possessed. Chains snapped from his wrist in arcs of spectral fire, striking beasts aside, binding limbs long enough for Shadowfang to tear throats out with fangs of molten flame. His body screamed with exhaustion, his ribs throbbed, but there was no time to falter. To stumble meant death.
Lyra fought beside him, serpent flashing like living lightning, striking eyes and arteries with precision honed by desperation. She was quick, sharper than the chaos around her, but even she could not conceal her ragged breaths. Her left leg dragged slightly, blood darkening her boot.
"We can't hold here!" she shouted over the din. "They'll bury us alive!"
Ethan lashed his chains around a Wyrmborn's jaw, yanking it aside just as Shadowfang leapt, fire bursting through its cracked scales. The beast convulsed, then collapsed in ash. Ethan's chest heaved, but his eyes burned with defiance.
"Then we move," he rasped.
"Move where?!" Lyra spat, venom dripping from her serpent's fangs. "There's no end to them!"
As if to prove her words, the trees beyond shuddered. More eyes gleamed. Dozens—hundreds. The ground vibrated with their approach, a tide of corruption eager to drown all that lived.
The Overseers still watched from the cliffs, silhouettes against pale moonlight. Not moving. Not helping. Ethan felt their gazes like knives.
Something inside him snapped.
"They're watching us die for sport." His voice was low, furious. "They want us to break here. To see who the chains will devour first."
Lyra's serpent hissed, coiling tighter around her arm. Her face was pale, but her eyes shone. "And what if they're right? What if there's no winning this?"
Ethan's gaze hardened. "Then we don't win for them."
The bond pulsed. Shadowfang's eyes flared gold, flames surging brighter, hotter. Through the connection, Ethan felt the wolf's will—unyielding, feral, refusing to bow.
The Wyrmborn swarm broke from the trees, their shrieks like steel tearing. Scales glowed with veins of molten red, their claws slicing the earth. Dozens charged. Behind them, the ground shook heavier. Something larger approached.
The alpha.
The hunters broke. Some screamed and ran. Others charged blindly, swallowed in moments. Blood slicked the earth. Companions fell one by one, leaving masters to be ripped apart.
Ethan stood his ground. His chains coiled like serpents of light, his wolf blazing beside him.
"Lyra!" he shouted. "With me!"
She hesitated only a heartbeat. Then she nodded.
---
The first wave hit.
Chains lashed out, binding legs, tearing wings. Shadowfang carved fire through scale and flesh, his jaws closing on spines. Lyra's serpent struck eyes, spraying venom that melted through corrupted armor.
But for every beast that fell, two more surged forward.
A claw raked across Ethan's chest, knocking him back. His vision blurred, blood hot against his skin. The chains shrieked in his head. Feed. Break. Become.
He forced them down, but the whispers grew louder. Every strike he resisted made the weight heavier.
Shadowfang's voice pushed through the haze. Not words—feeling. Don't yield.
Then the alpha stepped into the light.
It was colossal. Twice the size of the others, wings like torn banners, body covered in jagged obsidian scales that pulsed with molten veins. Its eyes glowed with malice, and when it roared, the earth itself cracked.
The swarm faltered around it, as though bowing. The alpha lowered its head, gaze locking on Ethan.
The Guild hadn't just sent them to cull beasts. They'd sent them to face a nightmare.
---
The alpha charged.
Ethan barely dove aside as its claws split stone. Chains lashed, but they snapped against its scales. Shadowfang leapt, fire burning gold, but his flames only blackened the monster's hide without piercing.
The wolf was swatted mid-air, crashing to the ground with a yelp that tore through Ethan's soul.
"No!"
Pain and fury erupted inside him. The chains responded instantly, bursting outward in a storm of light and fire. They wrapped around the alpha's leg, biting deep, but the beast roared and yanked free, dragging Ethan across the battlefield like a ragdoll. Rocks tore his skin, blood smeared his vision.
Feed. Feed. Feed.
The chains weren't whispering now. They screamed.
For a heartbeat, Ethan considered it. To unleash fully. To let them devour his restraint, to drown everything in their hunger. Victory—at the cost of himself.
Shadowfang staggered to his feet, golden eyes meeting Ethan's. Through the bond came a flood of feeling—pain, rage, loyalty. A single vow. If you fall, I fall.
Ethan's trembling hand tightened. No. Not like this.
He forced the chains to obey—not to consume, but to bind.
They lashed again, wrapping the alpha's wings, its throat, its legs. Every link seared with golden fire, fueled not by hunger, but by defiance. Shadowfang surged alongside, flames roaring higher, brighter, until they turned white-gold.
Together, they struck.
The wolf's jaws clamped on the beast's neck. Ethan's chains drove through its chest, spearing molten veins. The alpha shrieked, thrashing, but the fire spread inside it, the chains holding fast.
With a final roar, the alpha convulsed—and exploded in a wave of ash and molten light.
Silence crashed over the battlefield.
The swarm froze, leaderless. Then, as one, they scattered into the forest, vanishing like smoke.
The hunters who remained alive collapsed in disbelief. Bloodied, broken, but breathing.
Above, the Overseers watched still. Then, slowly, the Master raised his hand. The Guild's masked hunters struck the stone with their staves in unison, the sound echoing like thunder.
Ethan stood swaying, Shadowfang at his side, both trembling with exhaustion. His chains still burned faintly, the whispers quieter but not gone.
He knew what the Guild saw. Not survival. Not victory.
A weapon.
---
Later, when the bodies were gathered and the survivors herded back, Lyra limped to his side. Her face was pale, her serpent drooping with fatigue, but her eyes were sharp.
"You bound it," she whispered. "You controlled the chains."
"Barely," Ethan admitted. His voice was raw, his body screaming with pain.
"Do you realize what you've just done?" she hissed. "They'll never let you go now. You're not just another hunter to them. You're proof."
"Proof of what?"
"That the chains can be mastered." Her voice shook. "And proof that they can be weaponized."
Ethan met her gaze. In her eyes he saw not triumph, but fear.
He looked down at his bloodied wrist, the faint glow of links beneath his skin. The chains pulsed once, as though mocking him.
Break more. Feed more. You are ours.
He clenched his fist. "No. I am not yours."
But deep down, he couldn't tell if he was lying.
---
Chapter End.
---