Kaiser’s muscles reattached themselves as he jolted into an abrupt sprint, fiber by fiber, as his torn tendons knit back together with excruciating precision. The process was swift yet far from seamless, also not comfortable. Healing wasn’t a comforting experience—it was raw, invasive, and deeply unsettling. The sensation of his muscles writhing, like worms beneath his skin, made his stomach churn. Pain rippled through him, sharp and persistent, though far from unfamiliar. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let discomfort slow him down. This was his curse, his gift, and he had long since learned to endure it.
He didn’t care about the pain. He didn’t care about the unnatural way his body restored itself.
All that mattered was reaching that tree.
His legs churned, carrying him forward with inhuman speed. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Every step felt agonizingly slow, every second ticking by a cruel reminder of how late he already was.
“Faster,” he growled, his voice harsh, his lungs straining against the thick, acrid air. The smoke from the inferno enveloping the battlefield stung his eyes and clawed at his throat, but he didn’t falter.
Far above, silhouetted against the eerie glow of the firestorm, the Chief stood atop the tallest tree in the forest.
Kaiser’s gaze darted upward through the swirling smoke and flames, his heart clenching at the sight. The old man was perched precariously on a high branch, his bow drawn taut, a single silver arrow gleaming against the chaos. The Chief’s posture was unyielding, his focus absolute as he aimed into the fray below, disregarding the hungry flames that crept ever closer to his position.
Kaiser cursed under his breath, pushing his legs harder.
'His insane,'
The fire wasn’t supposed to reach the archers. Hunters like the Chief were masters of positioning, always choosing their vantage points with care, factoring in every variable—the wind, the flames, even the movements of their enemies.
But no one could predict the fire’s treacherous dance completely, nor anticipate the chaotic battlefield path of progressions.
Branches weakened by the inferno cracked and fell, scattering embers and igniting new blazes in unpredictable patterns. Flames climbed relentlessly, leaping from tree to tree, and now they had reached the Chief’s perch.
Unfortunately, Chief's position was already being devoured by hungry flames, its neighboring trees shorter than it, once verdant with leaves, were now skeletal and charred. The fire climbed higher, licking at the Chief’s boots, threatening to engulf him entirely.
No wonder his accuracy is decreasing, considering the high position, wide distance and disturbance of swirling ashes and heat, Coupled with the smokes going up towards him, disturbing vision clarity further. Making a successful shot should have been impossible.
Unbothered by everything, the archer released another silver arrow, cutting through the smokes of fiery war and... Sadly, missing.
Of course, it missed... Not only was his arm extremely sore from the overwhelming strain of launching those devastating arrows, his breathing smokes, too, while his eyes had difficulty opening.
And yet, he didn’t move.
His focus didn’t waver. Even as smoke billowed around him, choking the air and obscuring his vision, he remained steadfast. Another arrow was loose from his bow, cutting through the smoke and chaos below.
It missed. Again.
Kaiser's heart panged as he saw the arrow uselessly hit a bark. The Chief’s movements were slowing, his arms trembling under the strain of countless shots. He was breathing in smoke, his vision blurred, his aged muscles screaming for reprieve.
“Stop it!” Kaiser shouted, his voice raw and desperate, but the Chief didn’t hear—or perhaps he didn’t care.
Kaiser’s frustration boiled over, his teeth grinding as he forced his legs to move faster. They burned with exertion, every muscle and tendon screaming in protest, but he didn’t care. He needs to move faster, quicker.
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The old man nocked another silver arrow, the last one in his quiver. His hands shook as he drew the string, struggling as he pulled it to its full tension, and failed... His ancient arms were giving in. However, even in the grimmest circumstances, not once did his calm and caring expression change.
Kaiser’s fists clenched as he pushed himself harder, the ground blurring beneath him. He couldn’t understand the Chief’s stubbornness, couldn’t fathom the ignorance of his safety for a crude shot of a bow.
But even as frustration roiled within him, Kaiser knew one thing.
He wouldn’t let the Chief die. Not like this.
The fire was relentless now, creeping ever closer, the heat becoming unbearable. The tall tree swayed under the weight of its fiery burden, the flames consuming its branches, narrowing the old man’s window for escape.
But he didn’t climb down.
He wouldn’t climb down.
Of course, Chief wasn’t oblivious to his plight. He knew his chances of survival were slim. That his only way of retreat was closing, slowly being devoured by raging flames beneath his stand. His stubbornness to refuse climbing down would only assure his death more, until his only way out to survive was fully closed, devoured by the gates of fire.
However, for him, there's no path of retreat, no tomorrow, only now with his bow and arrow.
No safety to seek.
He was the Chieftain—the oldest hunter, the protector of his people, and the father to many. He had always seen the villagers as his children, each life precious and irreplaceable. Now those children fought below, their screams and cries echoing in his ears, their blood staining the earth.
How could he abandon his bow? How could he leave his people to suffer alone? If he can do anything about it, no matter how miniscule his aid, how low his accuracy fell, how dreadful it will be. He won't drop his bow for his life, and waste the opportunities given in the cost of his children's blood.
For him, there was only the now.
The veteran archer's breathing was shallow, his vision hazy as the smoke swirled around him. His arms trembled as he pulled the bowstring one last time and thankfully, succeeded. The final silver arrow gleaming faintly in the firelight. The heat was unbearable now, the flames licking at the soles of his boots, climbing ever closer. His perch groaned beneath him, the wood cracking ominously, a clear warning of its impending collapse.
But none of it mattered. Not the flames, not the pain, not even the inevitability of his end, only the last shot.
His sharp, weathered eyes scanned the chaos below, locking onto a shadow—an invader thrashing amidst the inferno, a repulsive beast with scorched fur and limbs that smashed through hunters like brittle twigs. The beast had eluded every strike so far, its thick hide deflecting blade and arrow alike. However, in the chaos of it all, he found tranquility within.
His senses sharpened, his breathing calmed, and everything seemed to slow down as he entered a trance. Finally, the faraway invader aligned, so did all the circumstances in the frantic battle below, forming a line that only he could see.
His lips curled into a faint smile.
“There you are.”
With deliberate precision, the Chief aimed, the string creaking under the immense strain so did is entire body, his muscles screaming, his lungs burning, his vision blurring from the ash that clouded his eyes. But he held steady. This was the moment. He had spent decades honing his craft, and even now, with death pressing against his back, he refused to falter.
The arrow loosed.
It sang through the air, cutting a silver path through the smoke and embers. The battlefield blurred beneath it, a fiery blur of death and destruction. The arrow curved, finding its trajectory as if guided by fate itself, slipping past flailing limbs and striking... true.
The invader let out a guttural roar as the silver arrow pierced its exposed flesh, sinking deep into its vulnerable spot. Its body convulsed violently, limbs crashing to the ground, before it collapsed with an earth-shaking thud to a tree. The flames reflected in the slaying arrow's silver as silence briefly descended over the battlefield.
The Chief let out a slow breath, his lips forming a small, satisfied smile.
He looked down.
Below him, the world was aflame. The forest, once a sanctuary, was now an inferno. Where everything was set aflame. Where his fate would end after living for so long. The tree beneath him groaned again, the flames creeping ever higher, their heat searing his skin. The leaves, the branches were dyed yellow and red, fiery wisps eagerly devouring everything beneath indiscriminately.
“What a nice night to retire,” he chuckled, closing his eyes for a moment and stare at the distant moon. Memories of hunts, victories, and quiet evenings in the village flashed through his mind.
"As beautiful as ever, I see... It had been a worthy life... I'm glad, it ended in a glorious end, I even got to meet a Player. Truly, it was worth it."
***
Kaiser stumbled.
His feet, moving faster than his battered body could handle, caught on a stray root. He fell, crashing into the ash-covered ground and rolling uncontrollably down a slope. The heat seared his skin as he tumbled, but he didn’t care.
When he finally stopped, dirt streaked across his face and his breaths ragged, he looked up.
The massive tree loomed above him, burning brightly like a fiery christmas tree.
“Chief!” Kaiser’s voice was raw with desperation as he pushed himself to his feet. The fire was roaring now, consuming the
base of the towering tree, sending sparks spiraling into the sky, he can't see the top anymore due to the height but hope lingered on his mind. “Chief! It's safe to come down! I’m here! I'll catch you.”
However, his calls were responded by silence, save from the cracking noises.
No voice answered him. No figure emerged from the smoke and fire.
“Please…” he whispered, his voice cracking as dread crept into his chest.
Then, something fell.
Kaiser flinched as an object landed before him. It was the Chief’s bow—intricately carved, its once-pristine surface of the ancient wood was now scorched, its string burned away.
His breath hitched, his heart sinking into a pit of cold despair. His shaking hands reached for the bow, cradling it gently, as if afraid it might crumble to ash in his grasp.
“Chief…”
The weight of the bow, far heavier than its actual mass, pressed against his palm like the weight of the world.
He stared up at the burning tree, the flames consuming it entirely, their roar deafening.
The village Chief was gone. A true marksman, warrior, leader and caring person to the very end. They lost a good man.
The realization hit him like a dagger to the chest.
'Damn it... Damn it... Damn it.'
For a moment, the battle around him seemed to fade, the noise and chaos muted by grief that gripped him.
Then, a swift fist assaulted the thick bark accompanied by devastating force that made the large wood shudder, causing a rain of tiny firelight to fall.
His frustration was replaced by rage for himself, for the beasts, for misfortune... For everything. Questioning why this had to happen, why did the invaders come here and now of all places!
However, Kaiser is a rational person who knows better than letting his emotions drive his actions. So, he forcefully swallowed his anger... But then again, do he need to?
No.
For once and for a reason, he voluntarily let his anger overwhelm him.
Turning back to the last invader, the toughest one of them all, the last one standing. His gaze began to burn with eerie, inexplicable glints of beastial darkness.