The spear slipped in his sweaty grip as Auren crouched lower. If he missed, he wouldn’t eat. Again.

The rabbit twitched its nose, ears flicking at the faintest whisper of movement. It hadn’t seen him yet, but it would in seconds. Auren’s fingers tightened. He had to strike now.

He exhaled, muscles tensing—then threw.

The spear whistled through the air.

And missed.

The rabbit bolted into the bush, vanishing in an instant. Auren clenched his jaw.

Behind him, Corren let out an unimpressed snort. “Well, that was sad.”

Auren turned, face burning with frustration. “I almost had it.”

“You almost went hungry,” Corren corrected. “Again.”

A rustle. A blur of movement.

A second spear cut through the air—silent, precise. The rabbit barely had time to react before it was impaled, its squeal dying in an instant.

Auren’s head snapped toward Rhett, who lowered his arm with mechanical calmness. His throw had been effortless, precise.

Corren watched him.Amused.

Rhett didn’t respond. He simply strode forward, pulling the spear free. Blood darkened the dirt. The boy held the rabbit by its hind legs and extended it toward Auren.

Auren hesitated before snatching it. His stomach churned, but hunger gnawed at him harder.

Corren smirked. “You missed the shot, you clean the kill.”

Auren groaned. “You’re making me do this again?”

Corren spoke, folding his arms. “The wild doesn’t care if you fail. You learn, or you starve.”

Auren grumbled under his breath but sat down with the knife Corren had given him. The first time had been the worst. The second wasn’t much better. He tried to focus, blocking out the sickly squelch as he worked the blade through fur and flesh.

Across from him, Rhett crouched by the fire, silent as ever. His face was unreadable, but Auren swore he saw the flicker of something in his expression. Not disgust. Not satisfaction.

Just… nothing.

The storm rumbled overhead. Lightning streaked across the sky. The wind carried the sharp scent of rain.

Corren’s gaze flicked to Rhett again.

And this time, he was sure.

The boy wasn’t just unaffected by the storm—he was connected to it...

The Next day ,The river shimmered in the dimming light, reflecting the storm clouds rolling above. Auren stepped into the water, letting the cold bite into his skin.

“This is different from hunting,” Corren said from the bank. “No running, no throwing. Just patience.”

Auren exhaled, stretching his fingers.

Corren raised a brow. “Being implusive won't help you ,kid”

Auren waded deeper, ignoring the way the current pulled at his legs. He waited. He let the water settle. Then—

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There. A flicker beneath the surface.

He struck.

Water splashed, and when he straightened, a fish flailed in his grasp. A grin tugged at his lips. “Got one.”

Corren let out a low chuckle. “I’ll be damned.”

Rhett, watching from the shore, finally spoke. “You’re fast.”

Auren blinked. Rhett had barely spoken a word to him before now. Before he could respond—

Lightning split the sky.

The crackling boom followed instantly. The air itself felt charged, humming with raw energy.

And Rhett didn’t flinch.

Auren shivered at the static prickling his skin, but Rhett only lifted his head, as if listening to something far away. The light illuminated his face, and for the first time, Auren noticed the faint, unnatural markings on his skin.

Not scars. Not tattoos.

Something else.

Auren’s stomach turned. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or curiosity.

But Corren… Corren looked at Rhett like he had just confirmed something.

The Chain and the Trials

By the fire, the air still heavy with the storm’s presence, Corren leaned back on his elbows. “Alright,” he said. “You two earned a lesson.”

Auren perked up. “On what?”

“ The World.” Corren’s expression darkened. “And how it keeps men weak.”

The flames cast jagged shadows across his face as he held up a charred stick.

“You know how power works, don’t you? It trickles down. From emperors to kings. From kings to nobles. From nobles to the dirt beneath their boots.” He let the stick crumble into the fire.

“That’s the Chain. They don’t just rule with strength. They decide who gets to have it.”

Auren’s fists clenched. He already knew that truth. His father had died because of it.

“But there’s another way,” Corren said, voice quieter now. “A way to take power, instead of waiting for someone to give it to you.”

Rhett looked up.

“The Trials of Honor,” Corren continued. “Once, they were known to all. A way for anyone—commoner or noble—to claim power, to stand equal to those born with it. But the Chain doesn’t like competition. So, they buried it. Erased it from history.”

Auren’s breath hitched. “But the Trials still exist?”

Corren nodded. “They do. And they’re different for everyone. They don’t just test strength. They test your will. Your strategy. Your soul.” His gaze flicked to Rhett. “Some pay more than others.”

Rhett’s face remained unreadable. But Auren saw it now—just beneath the cold, quiet exterior.

Pain.

Corren stood, stretching. “That’s enough for tonight. Rest up. We head deeper into the woods tomorrow.”

As Auren lay back, staring at the storm-touched sky, a thought took root in his mind.

If the Trials were real… if there was a way to stand against the Chain without being born into power…

Then he had to find them.

And no matter what price they demanded—he would pay it..

But before Auren could dwell on it, something shifted in the air.

The forest went silent.

A shiver ran down Auren’s spine. Corren stiffened, slowly turning his head.

A low, guttural growl rumbled through the trees.

Then, it stepped out—a hulking beast, larger than any wolf Auren had ever seen.

It was a Duskfang wolf. A large, battle-scarred wolf with dark fur streaked with silver. Unlike normal wolves, its claws were sharper, its muscles thicker, and its instincts honed for ambush tactics

Auren stumbled back, gripping his spear uselessly. Rhett stood still, watching.

Corren, however, merely sighed. "Took you long enough."

The beast snarled, muscles tensing. Then, it lunged.

But Corren wasn’t there anymore.

A blur—then an impact. Corren’s palm slammed into the beast’s snout, stopping it mid-charge. Dust exploded around them.

The creature staggered back, dazed but not down.

Corren rolled his shoulders. "I was hoping for a quiet evening, but sure. Let's make this fun."

Then, he lifted his hand, and the air around him shifted.

A pulse of energy rippled outward as a shape began to form behind him. Auren felt it before he saw it—an overwhelming presence, something ancient and powerful.

A massive figure emerged from the void. A bear—but not just a bear.

Its body was made of shifting shadows, streaked with glowing, ember-like veins. Its molten gold eyes radiated intelligence. When it moved, its claws left afterimages, as if existing in multiple places at once.

The monstrous beast before them froze.

It knew its end was inevitable.

Corren tilted his head. "Run. Or don’t. Won’t change how this ends."

The predator turned—too late. The bear-spirit pounced.

Auren barely processed what happened next. One moment, the beast was there. The next, it was being ripped apart.

A final, echoing snarl—then silence.

The bear-spirit turned, glowing eyes locking onto Corren. For a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. Then, the spirit dissolved, fading into glittering dust as the air settled.

Corren exhaled, brushing off his coat. "Well, that was dramatic."

Auren stared, mouth dry. "What... what was that?"

Corren simply smirked. "Not everything strong comes from the Chain."

Rhett, watching silently, curled his fingers slightly—his first reaction to anything all night.

Auren swallowed hard, realization settling in. The world was far bigger—and far deadlier—than he had ever imagined.

And he was still at the very bottom of it.