His hands touched the burnt trunks, the burn was dense and compact, and the smell invaded his nostrils in a supernatural way. The air that entered his lungs felt like a tamed beast, forced to reveal its secrets.

“It doesn't seem like fire, the patterns carved into the wood look like they were made by lightning, which wouldn't be strange in this forest if it weren't everywhere.” He cautiously left the area, following the bloodied trail. Tension and fear painted the scene, along with hope and the promise of a bright future.

“The footprints are deeper; he must be carrying something heavy...” What seemed to take an eternity, he started to get closer, the sound of steps echoing through the forest, the leaves falling from the trees as the forest itself couldn’t contain the immense creature.

The first glimpse was dry and disappointing. As large as expected, the creature was bipedal but walked hunched through the forest. Its height was comparable to a two-story building, carrying tree trunks as large as itself inside a giant primitive basket on its back. It was extremely hairy, especially on its legs and chest. Its head resembled a goat’s, with twisted horns, and its eyes seemed to hold some vile intelligence that made Stark fear it even more.

In its hand, it carried one of the trees, different from the others—this one was sharpened at the tip, making it look like one of the spears Stark carried. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a second hunter following the creature, camouflaged in the vegetation, wearing a large bear hide as a hood. From a distance, he seemed unarmed, but he radiated a presence that was far from ordinary.

Both were trailing the creature from a distance, neither ready to make a move yet.

“He’s too big to attack anytime; it has to be at the right moment. He’s carrying a lot of weight, and the strain is evident. When he stops, I’ll strike...” Near the giant, Stark felt like an ant and worried if he could even hurt it. His best options would be to blind the creature and try to wear it down with smaller attacks.

“Do I have enough spears?” Even though he’d made many, they were like needles compared to the monster. If he had to try poisoning it and run, he wasn’t sure it would work. Unlike others, though it didn’t feed on the poisonous fruits, its sheer size might mitigate the effects.

“The mixture I made is potent; it needs to be effective for the worst-case scenario, so I can survive...” He gripped the spear tightly in his hand. But something felt wrong—something was off. It felt like he was challenging himself, his thoughts and intentions betraying him. A sudden electric jolt surged through him as he felt a pull that seemed to come from the core of his being.

“No, it doesn’t matter if I get out alive. I’ll kill that bastard no matter what—no matter if I starve or get poisoned afterward, I need to kill it!” He gritted his teeth, feeling for the first time the embryonic form of something he had always heard about. His murderous intent, full of bloodlust, leaked out. Small animals fled from him, birds soared desperately into the sky. A new hunter was being born right here, right now, with his first kicks in the womb capable of making the world tremble in fear.

Had he maintained that ethereal feeling, the creature would have charged at him right away. But it was fleeting, and his mind refocused, unsure where that desire had come from. He still resisted, telling himself it was madness to kill the beast, poisoned as it was—he’d die right after, with nothing left to eat.

From afar, a bleat echoed through the forest, something heavy approaching quickly, knocking down everything in its path. With his vision heightened as much as possible, Stark could see a demon exactly like the one they were following, but smaller—about half the size, though no less intimidating. It was snorting and screaming, charging furiously at its superior.

Without warning, the smaller one leapt onto the larger, pulling it to the ground, delivering violent punches to its face, each strike so powerful it threatened to split the earth open. The larger one retaliated with a heavy blow to its side, throwing it aside, trying to get up and grab the spear that had fallen near it.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Before it could, the smaller one ran at it, grabbed its horns, and pulled it down again. Furious and with bloodshot eyes, the larger one used its entire arm like a whip, sending the smaller one flying, smashing through several trunks and injuring it severely. As it rose, it grabbed the spear made from an entire tree and hurled it. Its stance was poor, but the force was overwhelming, compensating for all its flaws.

With a crack that barely broke the sound barrier, the launch landed next to the smaller demon, who narrowly avoided it, opening a wide cut at chest height, where the launch grazed him, knocking him down again.

The larger one's chest heaved, the air around it becoming visible. Its breathing grew deeper and more intense as tendrils of lightning began to form around it. They gathered and surged through its body, accumulating in one of its hands.

It pointed toward its aggressor. Stark didn’t understand what was happening, but if there was ever a moment to act, it was now! Grabbing one of his spears, he plunged it into potent poison and aimed straight for the creature's eyes. Its long, thick beard and intense gaze clearly showed the age of the great titan—an adult who had survived countless challenges. This was the legend Stark would topple today.

With a powerful whistle and incredible aim, he threw it. His destructive power was minimal compared to the giant, but his throwing skill was far superior.

The distracted giant was struck in the eye socket, immediately losing balance and breaking concentration. All the power it had gathered escaped its control. Lightning bolts shot from its hand, annihilating the surrounding forest.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the other human quickly moved to the fallen smaller one. His hand reached out to the wound, which disappeared instantly. The smaller one did not attack him, realizing they were now allies. Rising, he grabbed the fallen spear beside him with renewed strength.

With a berserker's roar, he returned to the fight. The larger one, still writhing in agony, clutched its eye, which was being corroded. Insects drawn to the confrontation were swatted away by its flailing arms.

With the spear in front of him, the smaller one charged with a thrust. His speed was surprising for his size, pushing the larger one back several meters, impaling him and leaving a trail of dust and blood in his wake.

Yet the giant did not surrender. Its feet dragged through the dirt, digging in like an anchor. Biting the smaller one, it tore off a large chunk of its shoulder, forcing it to retreat in agony. It yanked out the spear lodged in its sternum, leaving behind a gaping, bloody hole.

Stark had been waiting for this opening for a long time. A huge target presented itself, and his poisoned spear landed smoothly, contaminating the demon's bloodstream. The rhythm of his chest seemed off as joy coursed through his pores, an overwhelming pleasure starting to manifest again.

The other human closed the smaller one's wounds, who lunged once more, his heavy hands targeting the two open wounds. The larger one was now nothing more than a slow punching bag, its movements growing heavier and more lethargic.

Finally, it fell to its knees, its body no longer able to support itself. The smaller one grabbed its horns, delivering powerful knee strikes, breaking the horns, which were then used as the final weapon, driven into its eyes.

Blood sprayed everywhere as the last agonized bleat filled the air. Its story and legend ended here. The giant, capable of using magic and surviving for so many years, fell today to ants that normally wouldn't have caught its attention.

Lying on the ground, the victor roared, announcing his triumph to the world. He then looked at the titan's arm. Its flesh, blood, and bones—all were valuable in his eyes.

Grabbing one of the arms with great force, he tore it off, and with a final glance and wave, left his allies behind, embarking on his own journey. As he departed, the cut on his chest reopened, and a large chunk of his shoulder seemed to have been torn away by an invisible creature. He ignored the pain as he moved forward, eating a piece of the defeated titan.

Stark approached the corpse. The mystical creature was dead, having fallen to combined efforts, but even so...

“He fell to my hands. He’s my prey, my sustenance, my strength...” Its flesh was a vibrant purple, clearly the poison had spread rapidly through its entire body, contaminating everything. But even so, his body demanded the price of life, demanded the price of the hunt, demanded proof of his conquest.

Cutting with his knife, his senses dulled, he shoved the sickly meat into his mouth. Despite its appearance, it tasted like extremely sweet and succulent honey. It was soft, delicious, and rich. His eyes widened, the pleasure growing more intense by the moment, as his blood seeped from all his pores, eyes, ears, and nose, burning with the ferrous liquid.

“Have I gone mad?” That was his last thought as the world went dark.