The Vale's fog had always been heavy, but by the fifteenth dawn it had grown oppressive. It clung to skin and armor like damp wool, seeping into lungs with every breath until even silence felt suffocating. The wolves that had tested them the night before were gone, their blood already swallowed by the greedy soil. Yet a greater unease stalked the group, thicker than the mist.
Kaelen marched near the back of his squad, eyes half-lidded, though his mind was sharp and taut. Beneath the soil, he could feel it again—the faint pulse of spiritual veins, the corrupted currents flowing like sluggish rivers underfoot. The Vale wasn't just alive. It was hungry.
Ahead, Joren cut the path, his serpent slithering at his side like a shadow given form. Even with fog curling around him, the young man carried himself like a banner. The others—Mira, Thalen, Eira in Kaelen's own squad—kept their silence, blades within easy reach, eyes sweeping the mist as though it might peel back and reveal death at any moment.
Then the ground trembled.
It was subtle at first, no more than a shiver through the roots and rocks. Mira froze mid-step. Thalen's hand went to his sword with a rasp. The tremor grew, rising into a steady rumble that made teeth chatter.
"Something's coming," Mira whispered, her voice tight.
Ahead, Joren lifted his hand and his squad halted instantly. His serpent hissed, tasting the air, coils whispering against wet leaves. Kaelen narrowed his eyes, letting the fog blur, letting Insight stretch deeper. There—something vast moving through the veins, a current of raw energy twisted with corruption.
It broke through the mist a heartbeat later.
A stag, towering as a house, its antlers jagged and blackened like spears forged in fire. Its hide shimmered with veins of glowing green corruption, each pulse crawling across its body like molten ore. Its eyes burned with sick hunger.
Mira's face drained of color. "Vale guardian… they don't wander this close to the borders."
"Then this one has," Joren said coldly, his voice clipped with anticipation. He didn't look back at Kaelen or his squad. His serpent's body uncoiled fully, its eyes narrowing. "Form lines. We kill it before it kills us."
The stag bellowed, a sound that tore the mist apart. Birds scattered in frantic arcs above, and the very earth seemed to shudder at the force of it.
Then it charged.
The ground thundered beneath its hooves, each step cracking soil and stone. The squads scrambled—Joren's forming into practiced formation, Kaelen's squad staggering back, trying to find footing.
"Blades out!" Mira snapped, though her voice trembled. Thalen swore under his breath but obeyed, sword gleaming dully in the fog. Eira muttered a prayer under her breath, her knuckles white around her dagger.
Joren's serpent lunged first, its length coiling around one of the stag's forelegs. Talis and Ren darted forward, blades flashing as they slashed at its hide. Sparks erupted as steel scraped over corrupted flesh, but the beast barely flinched.
The stag's antlers swept in a deadly arc. Ren didn't move fast enough. The blow caught him across the chest, hurling him like a ragdoll into a tree. The crunch of bone echoed, followed by his strangled cry.
"Ren!" Talis shouted, rushing toward him.
But the stag wasn't finished. It reared, hooves glowing with green fire, then crashed down. The shockwave split the earth, sending both squads sprawling.
Kaelen hit the ground hard, mist exploding around him. His serpent flickered faintly at his side, barely visible. Mira grabbed his arm, dragging him upright.
"We can't fight that head-on!" she hissed.
Kaelen's gaze sharpened. His Insight opened fully, the stag's corrupted Qi flows unraveling in his vision like threads of molten light. Wild. Erratic. But patterns hid in the chaos. Its energy bled through channels swollen with corruption, spilling where it shouldn't. Weaknesses waiting.
"Not yet," Kaelen whispered, his voice almost lost in the chaos. His serpent twined faintly around his wrist, gray eyes glinting. "Wait for it…"
The stag lowered its head, antlers glowing brighter, venomous light crawling across their jagged edges.
Joren didn't hesitate. "Strike again!" His serpent lashed at the stag's throat. Talis, torn between Ren and command, grit his teeth and attacked, blade biting deep into one of the stag's forelegs.
The beast roared, blood—black and steaming—spurting from the wound. But still it pressed forward. Joren met its charge head-on, blade flashing as his serpent tightened its coils. The force of their clash sent wind tearing through the fog, clearing a swath of forest.
Kaelen watched, silent, Insight following every surge, every crack in the beast's flows. There—its right flank, where the corrupted Qi pooled, unstable, raw. But to strike it would mean stepping into its blind fury, risking everything.
He didn't move. Not yet.
The stag bellowed again, tossing Joren aside. His blade scored a shallow cut across its neck, but it wasn't enough. The guardian's eyes burned brighter, its hunger turning on Kaelen's squad now.
Mira raised her blade, but her hands trembled. Thalen's breath came ragged, sweat streaking his face. Eira's lips pressed into a thin line, her prayer faltering.
Kaelen exhaled slowly, his decision hardening. He stepped forward.
"Stay back," Mira hissed.
But Kaelen didn't listen. His serpent slid free, its dull-gray form coiling low, nearly invisible against the fog. The stag barreled toward him, hooves cracking stone.
He moved not with desperation, but with precision.
At the last heartbeat, Kaelen slipped aside, Insight guiding him. His serpent struck—not at flesh, but at the Qi flow itself, fangs sinking into the current at the stag's flank. Energy spasmed violently, breaking its rhythm.
The beast stumbled, its charge faltering.
Kaelen's blade followed, striking into the softened flesh where energy ruptured. The cut wasn't deep, but it was precise. The stag roared, buckling, its corruption bleeding into the air.
"Now!" Kaelen shouted.
Mira moved first, slashing at its other foreleg. Thalen, eyes wide but burning with adrenaline, hacked into its side. Even Eira struck, her dagger driving between plates of bone.
The stag staggered, momentum slowing. Joren's serpent lunged back into the fray, coiling around its throat once more. Joren himself leapt, his blade flashing, driving into the stag's eye.
The beast convulsed, its bellow rising into a scream that shook the Vale. Black blood poured from its wounds, steam hissing as it struck the ground. With one final heave, it collapsed, shaking the earth, then lay still.
The forest fell silent.
Both squads stood panting, weapons dripping. The fog crept back in, as if reclaiming the battlefield.
Ren groaned weakly where he had fallen, and Talis rushed to him. Mira sank to one knee, exhausted. Thalen dropped his blade, chest heaving.
Kaelen stood apart, eyes fixed on the corpse. His serpent slipped back, dull-gray and faint, but its eyes gleamed. Inside Kaelen's chest, his Soul Palace quivered, the faint trace of molten energy stirring within. He had seen the stag's flows, devoured its pattern, and already his mind was weaving fragments into something new.
No one noticed. They only saw Joren, standing atop the corpse, his serpent glistening with blood. Elders would hear of this. His name would rise higher still.
Kaelen turned away, hiding the faint smile that tugged at his lips.
The Vale was hungrier than they knew. But so was he.
Aftermath
The squads regrouped under a tangle of broken trees. Ren's ribs were bound hastily with cloth; his face pale, his breaths shallow. Mira helped stabilize him, hands firm despite her own shaking limbs.
"We wouldn't have survived that without Kaelen," Eira said suddenly, her voice low but sharp in the tense quiet.
Mira stiffened. "Eira—"
"It's true," Eira pressed. Her eyes darted to Kaelen, who was already slipping into the background, gaze fixed on the mist. "He found the weak point. We all saw it."
Joren turned sharply, his serpent's tongue flicking in tandem with the sharpness in his gaze. "We survived because we pressed the attack," he said. "A beast like that falls to strength, not chance."
Talis clenched his jaw but said nothing, torn between loyalty to his wounded brother and the truth pressing on his tongue.
Kaelen didn't answer. He simply let the silence drag, his faint smile unreadable. Let them believe what they wanted—praise or dismissal, neither mattered. What mattered was what he had taken into himself.
"Enough," Mira said, stepping between the simmering gazes. "Save your bickering for the sect. Right now, we need to move before the smell of blood draws worse things."
The words ended the argument, though not the tension.
When they returned to the mountain's lower watch-post two days later, the tale had already grown in the mouths of the scouts. By the time the squads limped back into sect grounds, elders were waiting.
The elders' gazes went first to Joren, then to the stag's shattered antlers strapped to his squad's packs. Whispers flared instantly. Guardian slain. At the borders. By disciples still in training.
One elder approached Joren, laying a hand on his shoulder, his serpent still coiled proudly at his side. "Remarkable," the man said. "You've shown the bearing of a commander already."
Joren bowed deeply, his lips curving with the faintest smirk.
Kaelen lingered at the rear, silent. No elder looked twice at him.
Mira shot him a look, a mix of frustration and reluctant understanding. Eira, though, gave him the smallest nod—a flicker of recognition in her eyes.
Kaelen only lowered his gaze. He didn't need their acknowledgment. Not yet.
For now, the shadows were enough. In the shadows, he sharpened. And when the day came, the sect—and Joren most of all—would see how costly it was to overlook him.