CHAPTER 61: THE TRUE ALPHA

The silence broke.

Not by sound.

But by pressure.

It was as if the forest itself had been holding its breath. The leaves, once stirred by the night wind, now stood still, suspended in an unnatural instant, as if caught by invisible threads. The rustling ceased. The distant song of some nocturnal insect vanished. Even the air seemed to wait.

The shadows, however, did not retreat. They did not dissipate. On the contrary—they bent. Bowed like servants paying homage to something greater, as if recognizing, in a near-ritual gesture, the presence that approached. There was no defiance in them, only acceptance.

The air grew denser, as if it were liquid, and each breath demanded effort. Aziz felt every particle scrape against his skin, as though the very space around him was being shaped by invisible hands. The usual chill of the woods, the kind that seeped into the bones on deep nights, gave way to a suffocating heat. It didn’t come from the weather, but from the crushing aura that slowly took form—a weight that seemed to sink beneath the skin, pressing into muscles and bones.

The sword remained raised in his hand. His grip was firm, fingers tight on the hilt to the point of creaking. His eyes locked on the void ahead, unblinking; to blink would be to risk missing a detail, a sign. Every muscle, every tendon, every nerve stood in absolute readiness. The goosebumps on his skin betrayed that his body reacted even before his mind commanded it. He didn’t need to see to know. Something was coming. Something ancient. Something dangerous.

His Stimulating Presence pulsed out of control—not as a deliberate technique, not as something learned, but as a pure and wild reflex. It was an echo of his own racing heartbeat, an unconscious call answering both threat... and anticipation.

The tall grass ahead swayed, but not like when a small animal passed through. There was weight. Power. Each vibration in the ground was slow, firm, deliberate. A rhythm that belonged to no common predator.

Then came the sound.

Low. Almost imperceptible. Not a simple growl. It had body, it had depth. It was charged with mana, vibrating in Aziz’s chest, spreading through his ribs like the muffled rumble of distant thunder. Each reverberation seemed to say: I have arrived.

And from the shadows, it emerged.

The Alpha.

The true Alpha.

The air seemed to shrink around him, as if the atmosphere itself were being drawn into an invisible center of gravity.

The colossal body advanced without hurry, as though each step was a pronounced sentence. His paws, when they touched the ground, produced a muted crack—not of wood breaking, but as if the earth were fragile clay under unbearable weight. Small fissures spread across the ground with every step, betraying the absurd pressure of that living mass.

On all fours, he stood over two and a half meters tall. Upright, he could look over any human wall, perhaps even over smaller buildings. His fur was black as the absolute absence of light, a darkness that did not reflect—but absorbed—any glimmer. Between the fur, long, uneven scars ran across his body, memories of battles he had clearly never lost. Each mark seemed to tell a story of survival and supremacy.

The claws—long, curved, razor-sharp—gleamed with a cold bluish tone. It was no reflection. It was pure mana, condensed until it reached a near-metallic density, as though the wolf’s very essence had been fused with power.

And then, the eyes.

Two crimson embers burned, fixed on Aziz. There was not only fury in them. There was pain. Loss. The scent of the blood of dead cubs still clung to the air, dense and accusatory. And Aziz knew: to the Alpha, he was not just an intruder. He was a living sentence. An enemy that needed to be destroyed.

Aziz smiled.

There was no arrogance in that smile. It was recognition. The silent nod of one warrior to another.

"So it’s you..." he murmured, like someone who had finally found a rival he had always known existed, but never had the chance to face.

The Alpha’s aura grew. The flow of mana around them changed, as if the forest was being pulled into an invisible vortex. Invisible spirals formed and converged toward the beast. With his Flow Perception, Aziz understood instantly: this was not intimidation. This was preparation.

The air crackled.

The Alpha stepped forward. The ground beneath his paws split like glass under pressure. In the next instant, he lunged ahead with a burst of speed that defied his size entirely.

Aziz raised his sword, but knew he couldn’t take that impact head-on. His left hand opened, channeling mana in a swift gesture.

"Energy Barrier!"

The silver field appeared at the exact moment the colossal paw came down.

BAAANG!

The barrier trembled like glass on the verge of shattering. The impact sent shockwaves ripping leaves from trees, raising dust, and making the ground vibrate like during an earthquake. Aziz stepped back twice, knee bent to absorb the force. The barrier fractured into shards of light, but it had done its job.

The Alpha drew back half a step, muscles tense under the black fur, eyes narrowed like slits of fire in the dark. Surprise? Perhaps. There was a brief, almost imperceptible flicker in those crimson pupils—a cold calculation, a reassessment of an enemy who had just proven harder to crush than expected. But if it was surprise, it didn’t hold him for even a blink.

With a swift motion, the massive body spun, displacing so much air that dust and leaves rose in a brief whirlwind. The claws, once merely sharp, now shone with a cutting blue—not a superficial glow, but the condensed manifestation of mana shaped to pierce any barrier, any armor, any flesh. The sound was sharp, like thin glass vibrating on the verge of breaking.

Aziz didn’t wait for the blow to fall.

In one continuous, almost instinctive movement, he channeled energy into the blade. The air around it trembled. An Amplification Enchantment came to life. Ancient runes awoke as if they had been waiting for this exact moment. They snaked along the blade, lighting up in living silver, each symbol pulsing to the rhythm of Aziz’s heart.

And then, the clash came.

Metal and claw collided—but the sound was not the metallic ring of impact. It was the sound of tearing, like fabric ripped apart by brutal hands, like the rupture of something that was never meant to give. The force shot up Aziz’s arm like lightning, every bone vibrating, muscles burning, tendons stretching to their limit.

He twisted the blade deftly, deflecting the slash and using the Alpha’s own momentum to redirect it. The beast’s reaction was immediate—the muscular tail came like a massive trunk being swung.

Aziz ducked purely on instinct, feeling the displaced air brush through his hair. The strike missed by mere centimeters, carrying enough power to crush a man flat against the ground.

Open space.

The opportunity was too short to think. His left hand rose, already shaping raw mana boiling at his fingertips.

"Basic Arcane Magic—Projectile!"

The compact sphere was born in a sudden flash, condensed enough to slightly distort the air around it, and shot forward like a bullet. The impact on the Alpha’s flank was dry, reverberating in a deep thud that echoed through the clearing. The giant slid two meters, claws scraping and tearing the soil to keep from losing balance.

No roar of pain. Just the faintest hint of a lupine smirk, curling the corner of his mouth. A gesture that, in another context, could be called mockery. The fur along his back bristled into a living ridge, and then mana began gathering in his mouth, a growing blue glow lighting his sharp fangs.

Aziz noticed at the last moment.

"Damn!"

He leapt to the side, legs moving before the thought was complete. A condensed mana ray sliced through the air with a sharp hum, far too fast for any delayed reaction. The beam struck a colossal tree, and the wood, which should have resisted time and storms, split as if it were paper. The trunk toppled with a deep crack, scattering leaves and sharp splinters of wood that sliced through the air like projectiles.

Aziz fell to one knee, his heart pounding not from fear, but from raw, surging excitement. Pure adrenaline.

"Interesting..."

The Alpha gave him no time to breathe. He advanced again, alternating brutal physical blows with energy-charged bites. Each strike came with deadly precision, and Aziz retreated in circles, feet sliding over the ground, always keeping the beast in his peripheral vision. One mistake meant instant death. Two, and there would be no body left to bury.

With each advance, Aziz released small distortions in the surrounding space—Sensory Distortion, fragmenting the Alpha’s visual and magical readings. But the beast was not just strength; it learned. Quickly adapting, it began tracking by scent, by ground vibration, and by a magical sense that seemed to rise from every hair on its body.

Then Aziz decided to change the game.

He began retreating more openly. Light, controlled steps, a calculated glide. He made a shallow cut on his left arm, letting the blood drip and spread into the air. The metallic scent mingled with the environment, creating a perfect trail.

The Alpha took the bait, quickening his pace with confidence.

Illusion Magic.

The wolf charged the false figure, passing through it like luminous mist. The projection dissolved into shimmering particles.

The real Aziz was already to the left, sword raised, blade poised to slice the hind tendon and cripple the beast’s mobility.

Almost.

The Alpha, even mid-charge, sensed the attack. He twisted his body and lashed out with a side kick that violently knocked the blade away. The force of the blow threw Aziz backward, forcing him to drive the sword into the ground to avoid losing balance and rolling across the soil. The blade tore into the earth with a rough sound, carving a furrow.

The two stopped.

They panted. Watched. Measured each other.

Aziz wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand—without knowing, in that moment, if the blood was his or the enemy’s.

"You’re tough..."

The Alpha answered with a deep growl, each reverberation carrying the weight of a death promise. His front paws began to gather mana, the air around them trembling faintly. Aziz didn’t need to guess—he read the intent clearly: a crushing leap.

Mana coursed through his blade like a river of silver, making the runes pulse more intensely, each symbol vibrating as if alive.

The leap came.

The world seemed to slow. The Alpha’s shadow engulfed him, a living eclipse. The paw came down like a hammer forged to destroy walls.

Aziz did not step back.

He swung the sword upward from below, adjusting the angle with a touch of Light Telekinesis, guiding the blade as if it were part of his own mind.

CLAAANG!

The shockwave exploded through the clearing. The pressure pushed leaves, lifted dust, made the ground thrum like a war drum. Aziz was driven back, his feet carving into the ground as he fought to stay upright. And he did.

The Alpha stepped back, his eyes widening slightly—a flicker of genuine surprise.

Aziz smiled. Not the calm smile from before, but something wild, almost predatory.

"Let’s keep going..."

And the fight resumed.

The forest watched, mute, with unmoving branches and silent roots. As if it knew this was far from over—and that the true climax was yet to come.