CHAPTER 18: FINAL CLAW

As the beast’s body merged into the shadows, it moved backward with quiet, calculated steps, keeping its golden-red eyes locked on Auren from a safe distance. Even cloaked by the night, it didn’t let its guard down. Its predator’s instinct demanded that it never fully lose sight of its prey.

Auren, however, had already disappeared from its line of vision.

He had leapt into the trees, vanishing into the forest’s dense foliage like a ghost, taking cover among thick branches. The move caught the beast off-guard—it had expected the human to stand his ground or perhaps retreat on foot. Instead, Auren chose a higher path—one the Night Stalker hadn’t anticipated.

Realizing this, the creature backed off even farther, slinking behind dense brush to hide its presence and await reinforcement. It didn’t like surprises. And Auren had proven himself far too clever for a simple hunt.

’Master, we don’t have much time. I can already detect the presence of the rest of its pack. They’re heading here fast,’

Bigbird’s voice echoed in Auren’s mind, his tone unusually urgent. ’A few kilometers out. Closing in fast.’

’How long before they reach us?’ Auren asked mentally as he moved swiftly through the treetops, his body weaving between branches with the grace of a born hunter.

He trusted Bigbird—his Golden Phoenix—for more than just guidance. Its innate ability to scan the surrounding area like a passive magical radar was his secret weapon, an edge that had kept him alive through situations far worse than this.

Each leap he took was silent, calculated, his light frame gliding from branch to branch with near-elven precision while his mind kept on tracking the beast. He was a ghost in the canopy—one the Night Stalkers wouldn’t see coming.

’Thirty seconds. Maybe a minute. One of them... it’s moving at a terrifying pace. Might be the alpha.’

Hearing this, Auren paused. His eyes scanned the darkness, calculating. He licked his finger and raised it to the air, testing the wind’s direction.

His plan began to finalize.

He reached a thick branch that overlooked a clearing and stopped. From his pocket, he pulled a scrap of his tunic and tied it to a twig. The fabric fluttered in the night breeze, carrying his scent toward the opposite side—directly where the beast was hidden.

’Not good news... but should be manageable,’ he murmured.

He then darted to the opposite side of the clearing, higher up in the canopy, moving like a silent predator. Though the beast had vanished, it wasn’t hard for Auren to trace it. Drops of thick blood dotted the leaves below, and even cloaked in stealth, its glowing eyes flickered faintly beneath a low bush thanks to his skill, Tiger Focus.

Auren took position on a thick branch directly above the hidden Night Stalker. He crouched low, the shadows hugging his frame. His breathing slowed. His pulse steadied. He knew it was stalling for time—but he wouldn’t give it any more.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the creature’s gaze fixate on the cloth scrap he had planted earlier. The bait was working.

’Alright. Final act. Let’s go out with a bang,’ he thought.

From his belt, he retrieved a small, round orb—a glass bottle filled with swirling red liquid and glowing silver dust. It was one of his hand-crafted inventions: the MG-3, or Magic Grenade Mark III. He pulled the trigger-string, channeling a surge of mana into the container.

Then, without a sound, he dropped it.

The grenade fell in a smooth vertical—right above the unaware beast whose attention was still pinned on the scented scrap. The orb spun in the air once, twice, then—

KABOOOM!

A thunderous explosion ripped through the forest.

The metallic orb shattered, releasing a brutal mix of fire magic, shrapnel, and condensed mana. Fragments of mythrill and obsidian—infused with Auren’s fire-aligned energy—burst in all directions like a rain of razors.

The Night Stalker shrieked, its illusion shattered by agony. Shrapnel embedded deep into its face, neck, and chest. The concussive force sent it reeling backward, its stealth completely broken.

In panic, the creature leapt upward, trying to escape the invisible hellfire.

Exactly as Auren had planned.

’Perfect. Come to me kitty kitty!’

Without hesitation, Auren silently dropped from his branch, his figure plummeting toward the beast. Midair, he activated his enchanted MJ boots, releasing a speed burst to close the distance.

"Hasta la vista, pussy cat!" he shouted with a grin.

The beast, stunned and reeling from the blast, had no time to react. In a blink, Auren plunged the glowing golden blade of his Divine Rapier straight into the top of its skull.

The dagger pierced cleanly.

GROAHRAGH!~

The beast convulsed as the blade buried deeper with every tremor. It tried to resist but its strength was quickly fading. It clawed at the air. But the more it thrashed, the deeper the mythrill edge sank into its brain.

By the time Auren and the beast crashed to the ground, only one of them was able to stand up alive.

And it was the human child.

Blood dripped from his cloak, splattered across his face and arms, the crimson hue glowing faintly against the golden fire in his eyes. He stood tall—small in stature, yes, but in that moment, he looked like a demon birthed from the forest itself. A figure carved from determination and survival, a presence that demanded respect... or fear.

Among the watching elves back at Aetherthorn, even from afar, silence gripped them. What they had witnessed was more than a victory—it was a statement. The image of the blood-soaked boy standing over the fallen Night Stalker would be etched into their minds forever, a moment seared into memory like a scar that would never fade.

Even the seasoned hunters of Sylvan’thir knew how formidable the Night Stalkers were. For them, taking one down often took hours—and always in teams which is what they expect for the other elven participants.

Yet this human child had done it alone. In less than a minute. It was a feat no elf in the history of the Test of Fang had ever accomplished.

A record had just been set.

By a boy they once considered prey and weak.

"Whew... tough bastard," Auren muttered, wiping sweat and blood from his brow.

Without wasting a second, he crouched beside the Night Stalker’s corpse and reached for its fang. The earlier explosion had cracked one—just enough to make it removable.

With a few hard swings of his mana-infused dagger, the fang finally snapped free.

Auren held it up to the moonlight. Gleaming, jagged, and dripping with residual blood.

A perfect trophy.

’Hurry, Master! They’re really close now!’ Bigbird urged, his voice sharp with panic.

Auren stuffed the fang into his pouch. He couldn’t stay to admire it. If the rest of the pack arrived now, his victory would mean nothing.

He bolted from the clearing, tearing through brush and branches, making a beeline toward the nearby river.

He knew the terrain. The river’s current was fast, and the Night Stalkers would be forced to circle around to cross safely- given that they are ready for a territorial war.

But for Auren, it was his only shot.

His body blurred as he raced through the undergrowth, leaping over roots and fallen logs. His sweat mixed with blood, his heart hammering in his chest. From his vest, he pulled out a vial of blue liquid—mana reserve—and downed it in one gulp. He called his own made mana vial as Gatorade.

He could feel the energy surge back into his limbs. That last fight had drained nearly seventy percent of his mana. Every bullet, every explosion, every infusion into the dagger had cost him. Without his magic, he’d already be a corpse by now.

’I can see it!’ he gasped as the river’s glimmer came into view.

But so did danger.

Behind him, he felt it. Not just sensed it—felt it in his bones.

A terrifying killing intent. From the shadow, faint but its there, two red glowing eyes can be seen approaching at considerable speed.

"It’s coming!" Bigbird shouted in his mind.

"I know!" Auren barked back.

The bloodlust was deafening. No footsteps. No growls. Just the raw, suffocating pressure of something ancient and deadly approaching at terrifying speed leaving white blur on its trail.

Fifty meters behind, it emerged from the trees—the Alpha.

Unlike the one Auren had killed, this one was monstrous in size. Its fur was ghostly white, with a black stripe running down its spine and tail. Its saber fangs were nearly twice as long. And its body? Almost double in size.

It didn’t bother with stealth.

It ran like death on four legs. Auren could faintly hear the latin choir sing in his mind, the final boss fight is here.

The Alpha was conserving mana, relying entirely on its brute strength to catch its prey.

The rest of the pack trailed a hundred meters behind. But the Alpha wanted to kill Auren personally.

Auren’s lungs screamed as he closed in on the riverbank.

"Bye bye, pussy cat!" he roared, leaping forward without pause.

At the last second, he activated the special ability of his MJ boots.

[MJ BOOSTER]

Three mana stones on the outer soles flared with crimson light. Channels built into the boots’ structure absorbed and redirected his mana downward, creating explosive propulsion—similar to the concept of flight he’d once seen in comic books and games.

Auren’s small frame lifted off the ground, launching into the air like a human missile, exept there were no smoke trails.

He soared above the fifty-meter-wide river, his silhouette framed by the twin moons in the sky. Below, the waters raged, crashing against jagged rocks and silver-slick stones.

He grinned wide. Happy that he had dodged the boss fight.

He was flying.

And more importantly—

He was escaping.

He glanced at the fang in his pouch, then at the glowing runes under his boots.

Mission: complete.

Now all he needed was a hot bath and a safe bed.

"But first, I really need to scrub this blood off," he muttered.

Then—

’Master, watch out!’

Bigbird’s scream hit just as Auren felt it.

A sudden pressure from behind.

He banked right in midair, narrowly dodging a silver crescent wave that sliced through the space he’d just flown through.

An Air Claw Wave.

He nearly crashed into the rocky riverside, but managed to land in a roll, panting hard.

"That big cat’s still coming!?" he snapped, turning to look.

Sure enough, the Alpha stood on the opposite riverbank, glaring at him. Its paws shimmered with energy—it was already charging another attack.

"Shit," Auren cursed, scrambling up.

The claws glowed brighter—this time, not one, but ten Air Claw Waves fired coming towards him.

BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!~

The ground behind him erupted in violent bursts, wind and stone colliding in chaotic waves as the Air Claw strikes shredded the riverbank. The forest shrieked with the force of the assault, each explosion tearing through the calm like nature itself was at war.

And still, Auren ran.

Bruised, exhausted, and nearly out of mana—but alive. He wasn’t done yet.

From across the river, the massive white Alpha stared at him, its glowing eyes calm and unreadable. It didn’t roar. It didn’t chase. It simply watched, like a predator calculating something far beyond instinct.

Something was brewing behind that gaze.

Something worse than rage.