CHAPTER 66: BEAST OFF

The Nighthral opened its maw, black energy pooling in its throat like liquid death, preparing to strike the fracture in the barrier directly and hopefully take out the hiding elves inside.

"You thought you were safe in there?! Then die!"

But before the blast could be unleashed...

KABOOOOOOOM!

A violent shockwave erupted, pure and scalding, like a scream carved from flame and thunder. It tore across the canopy of Runewood, burning through the air with the wrath of something ancient.

Trees groaned and bent beneath the force, leaves turned to ash mid-flight. The skies shimmered with intense heat, and the wind shrieked as if trying to escape the inferno boiling into existence. For a moment, they felt as if reality itself has bent.

Even the Nightthral - in its power and strength- flinched.

Its monstrous frame stiffened. Obsidian eyes narrowed, and something deep in its instincts recoiled- an old fear it hadn’t felt in centuries.

Slowly... it turned its head.

It felt the overwhelming presence coming from the south.

What it saw drained the rage from its fanged snarl to the point it forgot about the elves underneath its paw.

Standing at the edge of Emberwood was a living cataclysm.

Towering. Smoldering. Alive with heat that cracked and pulsed like veins of molten gold through its plated hide. Its wings blazed with red flames as well as its manes and tail.

"Vulkris."

The last incarnate flame of destruction.

The beast whose fury had carved valleys into mountains, whose breath turned elven battalions into nothing but cinders and bone.

Its name was a curse passed down in Runewood’s darkest lullabies. Its fury had once marked the forest’s southern border in unending fire.

The Nightthral’s eyes widened. A hiss escaped through clenched teeth as memories, long buried, surged up like smoke through a broken dam.

"You..."

The word scraped from its throat like a blade on stone—hoarse, venomous, ancient with hate. It leapt down from the golden glow of the Aetherthorn’s fractured dome, landing with a thunderous thud before striding south, slow and deliberate.

It remembered.

Three hundred years ago, Vulkris had been nothing more than a Vul Alpha- an ember-born runt hiding in the western edges of Runewood.

But after seven days of ruthless crackdown of his kin, he rose in rebellion. He hunted down both the elves and the Nightthral’s kin who dare stand in its way, one by one, until the ground itself turned to a forest of inferno.

But now...

Now he had returned.

Eyes like twin suns stared across the burning sky, locking onto the Nightthral with a gaze that screamed dominance. Regal. Terrible. Certain.

The Nightthral’s snarl deepened. Its steps slowly accelerating.

Its gaze never left Vulkris.

"There can only be one King of Runewood..." it growled, voice shaking with fury.

"And that will be me."

ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAR!!!

The sound split the sky as if tearing the clouds apart.

The forest fell silent, holding its breath.

Two King Beasts. One battlefield.

War was inevitable.

Vulkris remained upright, though its mind still reeled in disbelief from the battle it had just experienced. A gaping hole had been blown through its chest, yet its body was already regenerating—rapidly and monstrously.

Moments ago, it had finally emerged from the ruins of Inferna Hollow, following a brutal clash with the human boy now lying unconscious at its feet.

Before the massive beast, Auren had reverted to his normal form lying on the ground- fragile, human, still.

And yet, in Vulkris’ eyes, there was a strange blend of rage and reluctant admiration. For the first time in ages, someone had dared to push it to its limits.

"Not bad, human," Vulkris muttered, raising its paw to finish him off. "But this is where we part ways."

Just as it prepared to strike, its instincts screamed- a new danger was coming.

"What now-?" it growled, facing eastward.

Charging through the trees with murderous speed was another massive King Beast- the Nighthral. Its maw was open wide, shrieking fury, and its eyes burned with pure hatred before unleashing a territorial growl.

ROOOOAAAR!

In response, Vulkris’ lips curled into a fiery grin.

"At last... another worthy challenger."

Its flames erupted like a meteor storm as it roared:

"Our battle will be legendary!"

Inside the Aetherthorn, Queen Elarya barely noticed the barrier’s cracking anymore as it started to repair itself.

Because something worse had arrived.

A heat she recognized deep in her bones. An aura that curled around her like a phantom of old wars. Her breath caught in her throat. Mana trembled inside her chest.

"No..." she whispered, her voice shaking.

"It’s here... does that mean, Auren lost?"

Panic and fear flared like a wildfire across her thoughts.

Suddenly, the chamber doors burst open.

"Queen Mother! Bad news!"

Rhiki’s voice was loud, desperate, but Elarya raised her hand and cut him off before he could finish.

"I already know. I can feel it."

She stood hurriedly, her golden robes still scorched from earlier battle. Around her, the elven healers and warriors froze, all eyes locked on her. Fear and confusion rippled through them like wind in tall grass.

Elarya closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath as she reached beyond the veil of the physical using the ancient Velzar trees scattered around Runewood as her lens.

Her mind brushed against every root, every breeze, every heartbeat within the Runewood. In mere seconds, the forest opened itself to her like a living tapestry—and what she saw chilled her.

The Vulkris. The Nighthral. Their clash was only part of the chaos.

But more troubling were the shadows moving beneath the trees- outsiders who did not belong and took advantage of her brief visit to Inferna Hollow. Unfamiliar forces had trespassed onto sacred ground.

Some of them... accompanied by a familiar presence. A human. Marissa.

Her brows furrowed slightly. She knew that name too well. The woman was once trusted, yet her current intentions stirred suspicion as she walked together with a suspecious pale man in a cloak.

’What are you doing, Marissa... and who have you brought into my forest?’ was her thoughts. And as much as she wants to interrogate them, there are much more pressing issues she must attend to first and that is the lives of the elven folk.

Still, there was a silver lining in the chaotic storm.

’It’s fortunate the Vulkris managed to draw the Nighthral away...’

Just as Queen Elarya was about to pan her senses elsewhere, something flickered in her vision- familiar, faint, but unmistakable.

Another figure appeared in her senses, lying motionless in the center of the massive crater where the Ember Tree once stood.

Her heart skipped.

"Auren!" she breathed, her voice a trembling mix of worry and relief. She almost teleported instantly- almost.

But something tugged at her mind, halting her.

’No. Not yet. If I leave the Aetherthorn now, both of those beasts will sense me—and I doubt I have the speed to outrun either of them.’

Her thoughts whirled, calculating, weighing her next move. Then, like a sudden light piercing through fog, a new idea came. She closed her eyes again, reaching out with her mana-vision- and found another presence.

A lone figure, cloaked in the forest’s shadows, moving fast but quietly between burnt trees.

It was Robert.

Auren’s father.

’Right... there’s him.’

A plan was already forming. Her instincts told her to leap, to run to Auren- but she had trained herself to lead with strategy, not emotion.

After all, she had a kingdom to protect. Her gaze drifted to the horizon, where the Nighthral and Vulkris- two monsters born of fire and nightmare- charging toward each other, the ground already trembling beneath their fury.

’Their clash will be devastating... but it may be the only window we have to escape Runewood.’

Her eyes snapped open- calm, focused, but weighted with urgency.

Around her, the people of Aetherthorn stood in silence. Their eyes were locked on their queen, their breaths held. They felt the shift in the air and the storm that was coming.

And they were waiting- for her command.

Elarya raised her voice- not just loud, but clear, commanding and unshakable.

"Runewood is no longer safe."

The air shifted to fear. Even the walls of the Aetherthorn felt like they stiffened in dread.

"Prepare to evacuate everyone. Now."

Her golden spear flared into existence in her hand with a sharp pulse of mana. She turned to Rhiki and Kardel, the two tribal leaders standing before her, and gave her next order with no hesitation.

"Divide your warriors. Half of them will guide the civilians to safety. Take them west border through the edges of the Thunga desert. Stay off the open roads and stay hidden until I arrive. Travel by glade and grove. Do you understand?"

Rhiki blinked, his war instincts kicking in.

"And the rest of our soldiers?"

"They’ll stay," Elarya said grimly. "With me."

"With you?" Kardel frowned. "You mean to face the beast?"

"Beasts," she corrected. "There are two of them remember?"

A voice croaked from the corner.

"Two...?"

It was Mathes.

The gold-haired warrior lay on a floating recovery platform, his entire body wrapped in shimmering red bandages made of healing leaves. He looked barely alive, but the fire in his eyes refused to die.

Elarya approached quietly.

She knelt by him, brushing a strand of golden hair off his brow with motherly tenderness. He winced but held her gaze.

"Mathes," she whispered softly. "When you’re healed... I want you to lead our people out and settle on the Isogon Territory."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No- Queen Mother, what are you saying?"

"The reality is that I may not survive this battle," she said, her voice calm but heavy.

The fear in Mathes’s eyes deepened. "No... you can’t-"

"You’re the only one who can guide them in my place," she continued. "You’ve earned that right."

"But why not come with us?" he pleaded. "Why not escape?"

She hesitated... then exhaled, long and slow.

"Because the Vukris’s target is me."

Silence fell.

Rhiki and Kardel stiffened while listening closely. Mathes looked like he’d been stabbed through the heart. They understood what it means if Elarya goes with them. That beast would surely wipe them all out together with the queen.

He didn’t need to ask which beast.

There was only one that hated her enough to burn the world to reach her.

The one whose kin she’d hunted down with divine fury centuries ago. The one she’d nearly destroyed before it evolved.

The one she thought she’d finished off for good.

Mathes’s voice broke as he whispered, "Do you mean..."

Elarya nodded solemnly.

"Yes. Vulkris has returned in Runewood."