Aaryan’s body was a battleground of pain, each movement a sharp reminder of the violence he had endured. Blood dripped from the gashes and wounds across his skin, pooling on the ground beneath him. His breath came in shallow, frantic bursts, each inhale a struggle, each exhale a desperate release. The world around him swam in and out of focus, his vision blurred from both exhaustion and blood loss. His muscles screamed in protest with every attempt to move, and yet, something deep inside—something raw and primal—refused to let him succumb to the darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision.

He was still alive.

But how?

The thought barely formed before it was smothered by the overwhelming surge of instinct. He couldn’t stop now. He had survived this time, but how long could he keep relying on luck? The beasts, the battle, the endless danger—it would only be a matter of time before they came for him again, and next time, he might not be so lucky.

"I killed it... I really killed it…" His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but there was a sense of disbelief in the words, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had done. The wolf that had nearly torn him apart, the beast he had brought down with the strength he didn’t even know he had.

He glanced toward the spot where the old man had fallen. His sacrifice—the man’s life for Aaryan’s survival—burned in his mind. The image of the man being ripped apart by the wolves was a memory he couldn’t escape. That loss weighed on him, but he couldn’t afford to mourn just yet. Not while there was still a chance to escape.

He staggered to his feet, each movement a battle. His legs were weak, his arms trembling with the strain, but his eyes, sharp despite the haze of exhaustion, scanned the valley around him. The village loomed in the distance, a place that had once offered the promise of safety, but now felt like a trap—a cage he couldn’t stay in.

“I can’t stay here,” Aaryan muttered under his breath, his grip tightening around the hilt of his bloodstained sword. “I survived this time, but next time…” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to. The truth was clear enough. If he stayed, if he went back with them, the people who had watched him fight, the ones who had sent him to face death, they would use him again. His life would never be his own.

His gaze swept over the valley once more, seeking any sign of an escape. The dense forest on the other side of the valley called to him, but it wasn’t the trees that drew his attention. It was the sound—the constant, thundering rush of water crashing down the cliffs behind him.

The waterfall.

It had been there all along, a soft, distant roar in the background of the battle, unnoticed in the chaos. But now, as the world around him fell silent except for that relentless roar, it became clear. The waterfall was his escape.

His heart pounded as the idea took root. The water, the current, the sheer force of it—there would be no way for the villagers to follow him there. It was his chance.

Aaryan’s legs shook, but he forced himself to move toward the sound, toward freedom. But as he took his first step, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head, squinting through the haze of his blurred vision. He turned back, swaying but moving , towards……….

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The villagers.

They were watching him, their eyes wide with disbelief. He could hear their whispers—fragments of words carried on the wind.

“How is he still alive?” someone asked, barely a breath of sound.

“He should’ve died. We all saw it,” another muttered.

“He fought like a beast. A boy… and he killed it.”

There was awe in their voices, yes, but also something else—fear. The same fear that had been growing in Aaryan ever since the battle had ended. They were afraid of him. And why wouldn’t they be? He shouldn’t be alive. They should’ve seen him torn apart like the others. But he wasn’t. And it scared them.

Aaryan’s hands shook as he took another step, his mind clouded with exhaustion, but his resolve was firm. There was a fire within him now, burning through the pain, pushing him forward. He wasn’t just a survivor anymore. He was something else. Something the villagers didn’t understand.

Sharan stood off to the side, watching him with narrowed eyes, calculating. His gaze was cold, distant. But Aaryan could feel the weight of his stare, the way Sharan sized him up like a puzzle that needed to be solved. He had seen Aaryan fight—he had seen him survive. And now, Sharan wanted to know how.

Behind him, the eagle-nosed man strode forward, his heavy footsteps crushing the mud beneath him. He came to stand next to Sharan, his sharp gaze flicking over Aaryan, then down to the fallen wolves.

“Well?” Sharan’s voice was low, but there was impatience in it. “Did you find anything?”

The eagle-nosed man gave a soft, bitter laugh, his eyes lingering on Aaryan for a moment longer than necessary. “Nothing.”

Sharan’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’? No core?”

The eagle-nosed man nodded grimly.

“No core?” Sharan’s voice rose, his disbelief hardening into anger. “All of this? All these damn wolves, and there’s no core? What kind of fool’s errand is this?”

The eagle-nosed man turned his gaze back to Aaryan, his eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and something darker. He hadn’t expected the boy to survive, let alone outlast them all.

Aaryan’s legs threatened to give out as he stumbled toward the wolf’s body. His sword felt like a weight too heavy to carry, but he gripped it tightly, his hand trembling. There was no strength left in him, no energy to fight back. He could barely keep his focus, but he knew what had to be done. He needed to get out of there, and if he could take something—anything—along the way, it would be worth it.

His fingers curled into the wolf’s half-split skull, searching until they closed around something hard and smooth.

With a sickening squelch, he ripped it free.

He turned, making his way toward the waterfall.

“Stop him!” the eagle-nosed man’s voice was frantic now, desperate. He dashed forward, his movements fuelled by rage.

Aaryan didn’t stop.

He didn’t look back.

With every step away from the group, his body burned, his muscles screaming in protest. But his mind was clear now. There was no turning back. He couldn’t be a pawn anymore. He couldn’t be controlled.

As he reached the edge of the waterfall, the roar of the water deafened him, the cascading spray soaking his clothes. He stood at the precipice, staring down at the abyss below. His heart raced, but there was no fear in his chest. Only resolve.

“Prey that we don’t meet again,” he called over his shoulder, his voice carrying in the wind. It was a warning, a declaration.

Without another word, Aaryan leaped.

The fall was brief but overwhelming. The current gripped him instantly, pulling him under. For a moment, the world went silent. The past was swept away, swallowed by the water. And Aaryan—tired, broken, but alive—was carried away into the unknown.

“NOOOOO!” The eagle-nosed man’s shout echoed behind him, but Aaryan was already gone.

Sharan and the others arrived moments later; their faces twisted with rage. They looked toward the waterfall, the only sign of Aaryan’s escape, but the boy was nowhere to be found.

“He took the core,” the silver-armoured man muttered, kneeling beside the wolf’s lifeless body.

Sharan gritted his teeth. “We’re not leaving until we find him. Dead or alive.”

Down below, Aaryan’s body was battered by the water, his limbs burning as he fought against the current. He didn’t know where he was going. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop. Now, He truly was “UNBOUND”.