The lidthrag let out a blood-curdling screech that echoed through the glades, thrashing violently as its strength drained away and its red blood trickled down the crystalline structure. It whimpered, its struggle growing weaker until, at last, its eyes radiated lifelessness.

Odrean, still panting and crawling away from the beast-now-corpse, looked up at Riniock with a mix of relief and disbelief. ‘That was…that was close.’

‘Too close,’ replied Riniock, lowering his wand. ‘That was my last spell.’

Odrean gave a strained laugh, wincing as he stood. ‘Got lucky, didn’t I? But we brought it down in the end.’

He nodded, his gaze lingering on the fallen predator. ‘Yeah, we did. Let’s collect its claws, the rest is useless.’

As per their agreement, each of them claimed a dozen claws from the lidthrag.

By the time they were done, the sun had dipped even lower behind the horizon, painting the sky in hues of dimming orange and violet.

‘Well, I’ll be on my way,’ Riniock said, giving one last glance at the fallen beast. Unbeknownst to him, Odrean had other plans.

Before he had the chance to turn, a cold, pointed edge pressed against his back.

‘Don’t move,’ came Odrean’s voice, low and threatening. The sharp jab of the dagger in his hand made it clear he wasn’t bluffing. ‘I don’t have to hurt you, but I will if you don’t cooperate.’

Riniock froze, his earlier wariness now fully validated. Keeping calm, he scoffed under his breath. ‘Knew you lot couldn’t be trusted,’ he muttered, remaining perfectly still.

‘Too late for regrets now. Empty out your pockets,’ Odrean demanded, his tone firm and void of pleasantries. ‘Do it, and I’ll let you walk away unharmed.’

Riniock slowly reached into his inner coat pocket and let the claws tumble onto the ground.

‘I said empty them out…’ Odrean insisted, this time prodding the blade a little harder. His voice grew sharper, betraying his growing impatience.

‘That’s all I have,’ Riniock replied evenly, his composure still intact.

‘Bollocks!’ the latter snapped. ‘You said you were out of spells earlier, but I counted – you only cast two when we were together. So what’s the deal? You must’ve used three more before we crossed paths. What did you catch?’

The accusation hung in the air, Odrean’s greed surfacing in every word.

Fortunately for Riniock, his earlier deception about exhausting his spells had proven useful. In truth, he had used only one spell before their meeting – the one against the kezok – leaving him with four spells in reserve, a fact Odrean was oblivious to. After the two he expanded against the lidthrag, two more remained.

Feigning exasperation, Riniock sighed to maintain the charade.

‘I caught three verdacks,’ he lied smoothly.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Odrean sneered at the response. ‘Mediocre, but better than nothing. Now, hand over the feathers. Quickly!’

Riniock obliged, scattering a bundle of feathers onto the ground.

‘So many!’ Odrean’s eyes gleamed with greed. He shoved Riniock forward and out of the way, whilst he knelt to gather the spoils.

It was the moment Riniock had anticipated.

As soon as Odrean bent down, Riniock twisted around, his wand already snapping into action. A crystalline blade of frost extended from its tip, gleaming like a sword. Without hesitation, he drove it into his shoulder.

Odrean cried out in pain, the force of the blow sending his dagger clattering to the ground. He stumbled backward, clutching at his injury, his eyes wide with shock.

‘You –’ he yelped, but Riniock gave him no chance to finish.

He leaped onto Odrean, pinning him against the grass. His voice was cold, seething, trembling with unrestrained fury. ‘I warned you not to cross me.’

‘Wait! We can work this out!’ Odrean begged, his tone desperate, his eyes wild with fear.

But Riniock’s face hardened, his mind clouded by betrayal and anger. He grabbed the fallen dagger and slashed at Odrean without hesitation.

‘Too – late – for – regrets – now!’ Each word punctuated a frenzied strike.

Again and again, the blade descended, slicing through flesh, until Odrean’s lifeless body was a mangled, bloody ruin. Even as the man’s chest ceased rising, Riniock’s arm continued to plunge the dagger, his breaths ragged, his mind drowning in a storm of bloodlust.

When he finally stopped, the silence was deafening. His trembling hand released the bloodied dagger, and he collapsed backward, panting, staring at the marvel he had created.

His face spattered with blood, Riniock wiped it from his face with the back of his sleeve, only smearing it further. Then, uncontrollably, he burst into a hysterical laugh, a chilling sound that echoed across the darkening glade. It was a mix of exhilaration and madness, like a man unshackled from something long pent up.

‘That –’ he choked out, swallowing his own slaver. ‘That was refreshing.’

The thrill of taking Odrean’s life surpassed even the triumph of slaying the lidthrag. Killing a beast was a matter of survival, but ending a man? That was power. Pure, unbridled power.

Alas, his revelry was short-lived. The test would soon end, and the college staff would be rounding up the applicants. If he was found here, standing over a butchered corpse, there would be questions he couldn’t answer. He needed to move – and quickly.

Still, there was time for one last act: looting.

‘I’m taking these back…’ he muttered to himself and scooped up the lidthrag claws and feathers he had dropped.

He turned his attention to Odrean’s remains next, crouching beside the body. His hands moved swiftly, searching through the blood-soaked satchel. Inside, he found the rest of the lidthrag’s claws, along with a falufrax’s tail and an entire topi – likely trophies from earlier hunts.

‘Hoarder, weren’t you?’ he muttered, tossing the satchel aside after emptying it.

Next, he rifled through Odrean’s coat but found nothing. Lifting it revealed a small pouch tied to the man’s belt.

‘Let’s see what you were hiding,’ Riniock whispered, untying the pouch.

Inside were twenty lunaris and a single solari coin – a tidy sum for a teenger. But another item caught his eye: a small, unfamiliar card. Its surface bore strange markings and symbols he didn’t recognize.

‘What’s this?’ Riniock turned it over, frowning at its cryptic design.

Shrugging, he pocketed the card. ‘Check this later,’ he muttered.

Rising to his feet, he scanned the spot one last time, ensuring he left nothing behind but the broken shell of the man who had dared to cross him. Then, clutching his ill-gotten spoils, he prepared to distance himself from this incriminating scene.

Riniock had been so consumed by his looting and thoughts that he failed to notice how quickly the sky had darkened, casting the crimson glades into deep shadow.

The sudden rustling of nearby bushes shattered the eerie silence, followed by a low, guttural hiss that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

From the shadows emerged several large, white-scaled lizards, their sleek bodies adorned with thin black stripes. Each had a prominent red, feathered tail swaying rhythmically, as if signalling to one another.

Within moments, he was surrounded by the creatures, their cold, piercing eyes fixed on him like a predator locking onto prey.

‘Diallos,’ Riniock spat, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Crap…’