The next day, the portal’s cold grip released them into another Tin-tier, spitting them onto a battlefield already steeped in the throes of a brutal conflict. Blinding light seared Kael’s eyes, forcing him to squint.
Instinct, honed by a life spent navigating the treacherous alleys of Mudtown and sharpened by countless battles in the realms, made him react before he even had time to process the scene before him. He dropped low, his hand shooting out to yank Yareeth down beside him.
“Stay low,” he hissed, his voice barely audible above the din of battle. This wasn’t the tranquil expanse of grasslands he'd pictured. This… this was a war zone. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air. He could smell the musk of the creatures—a heady, feral stench.
Yareeth’s gasp, the warmth of her surprise against his arm, “What is that noise? What are those creatures?”
His gaze swept across the desolate landscape. Jagged rocks, twisted bushes—a harsh terrain that offered little cover. But even amidst that unforgiving expanse, two distinct groups of creatures clashed, their battle a symphony of violence.
“Just stay down, Yareeth. We need to understand what’s happening before we get involved.” He could feel the tremors beneath his hands, the ground vibrating with the force of their clash. He pressed himself against the rocky ground, every sense on high alert, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He'd seen battles before, in the darker corners of Mudtown. But those encounters were a pale imitation of the raw, primal fury that was unfolding before him.
They watched, hidden behind a jagged cluster of rocks that offered meager protection. He felt her body trembling, but her tail swished with an eager curiosity.“They’re… fighting each other. Why?” Yareeth’s voice, a breathless whisper against the back of his neck. He could feel the tremor in her words, the shock of witnessing such unrestrained brutality, such primal rage. He'd been there, in that moment of terror and confusion, just a few short weeks ago. But for him, the world of the slums had been a brutal preparation, a cruel apprenticeship for the realms’ unrestrained savagery.
“Territory, resources… maybe something else. It doesn’t matter,” he finally responded, his gaze fixed on the shifting battlefield. It was a chaotic dance, a ballet of death. "What matters is we're caught in the middle of their war."
The realization was a cold stone in his gut. He’d gotten used to facing his challenges head-on, to charging into battle fueled by the shard's seductive promise of power. It was a lesson that had nearly cost him his life. His gaze shifted, his mind racing.
“We move carefully. Stay out of sight.” Kael’s voice, low and urgent, and he couldn’t keep the edge of fear from his voice. "One wrong step, one loud noise, and we’re dead.”
Yareeth’s hand, surprisingly strong despite her slender frame, tightened on his arm for a moment, her scales a cool contrast to the sweat that slicked his skin. He hadn’t noticed until that moment that they were still holding hands, their fingers interlaced as they’d stepped through the portal. But he didn't let go, couldn't afford to, her touch, her warmth, the reminder that he wasn’t alone in this, was an unexpected comfort against the mounting anxiety.
"Where do we go?” Yareeth asked, her voice hushed, but he heard the quiet determination, her survival instinct kicking in. She was learning quickly.
“Let's find somewhere to observe.” He scanned the surrounding terrain, searching for cover. The world seemed alive, pulsating with a volatile energy, the scent of iron and musk filling the air, making his head spin. He saw a cluster of rocks. It wasn’t much, but it offered a temporary haven. It felt like he was back in the Grasslands, a realm whose open sky had given birth to a different, unsettling fear. Here, the enemies were numerous, their objectives unclear.
They moved swiftly, a silent shuffle through the uneven, treacherous terrain. Each step was a risk, the ground uneven, slippery with a mix of dust, blood, and something else. The System had rewarded him with an upgrade. But his old fears remained.
He pulled her down beside him, her breath a soft gust against his ear, a strange blend of sandalwood and swamp that reminded him of the village she’d lost. He could smell the grief on her, but he forced those thoughts away. He was here now.
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They huddled together in the shadow of the rock, carefully positioning themselves to avoid detection. Their bodies, pressed close, a reassurance, but the intimacy was unsettling. She shifted and, for a moment, he thought about loosening his grip on her hand. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. It wasn’t just her that needed it, this anchor.
“Right.” he rasped, taking a deep breath, "Let’s take a look.”
Yareeth's eyes followed his gaze, her sharp, predatory focus a mirror to his own. In the distance, a chaotic ballet of violence unfolded. Two distinct factions, each a testament to the realms’ strange, unsettling beauty.
The first were insectoid behemoths—Chitinous Guardians, the System labelled them in its cold, clinical manner. Their bodies, encased in thick plates of chitin that glinted in the harsh sunlight, towered over the second group—sleek, wolf-like creatures with bristling fur and glowing, predatory eyes—Shadowfang Hunters. The ground beneath their feet trembled with the force of the creatures' impact.
Chitinous Guardian Level 2
Shadowfang Hunter Level 2
The Chitinous Guardians, four of them, held their ground with an almost mechanical precision, defending a series of interconnected burrows that snaked their way through the cracked, barren earth. Their movements were a strange symphony of clicks, scrapes, and hisses as they blocked and parried the wolves’ frantic attacks. Each strike, a blur of serrated mandibles and razor-sharp claws, designed to cleave and crush, the chittering fury a sound that made even Kael’s seasoned instincts scream in warning.
The Shadowfang Hunters—six of them, lean, muscular bodies moving with the predatory grace he'd only seen in his nightmares of Mudtown’s stray dogs—were relentless, driven by a primal hunger that resonated with the Shard’s faint hum within him. Their eyes, two burning embers against the backdrop of dark fur and bared fangs, seemed to pierce the fog, tracking every movement, every weakness. They darted in and out of the Chitinous Guardians' reach, jaws snapping, their bodies a whirlwind of claws and teeth, their attacks focused on the vulnerable joints, the soft underbellies. He could almost feel it—their desperation, a hunger that fueled their fury.
"It's… incredible,” Yareeth said, her voice barely a whisper, the awe evident despite her fear, her scales a shimmering blend of green and gold against the harsh landscape. He could understand her fascination. It wasn’t a battle for food, not really, but something older, more instinctual.
She had lived in a realm where creatures were revered, where their roles in the delicate balance of life were intricately interwoven. But the violence, the sheer intensity of the fight, had awakened something within her, too—a primal recognition of the System’s rules, a game where death and survival were two sides of the same coin. Her scales shimmered slightly in the muted light, an echo of that understanding.
“They’re not so different, are they?” he said, thinking aloud, the irony a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Creatures, humans… We all struggle. We all… want.” He didn’t finish the sentence.
She nodded, her gaze never leaving the fray, a deep frown etching lines on her scaled brow, making her look older, somehow.
Kael pointed to the burrows, his voice sharp. “The Chitinous Guardians, they’re defending their territory. Their home. The wolves… well, maybe they’re just hungry. Maybe they want those burrows. Maybe it’s something more. We need to find a way around them. If we get caught in the crossfire, we're dead."
The stench of battle – a mix of blood and sweat, of earth and decay, and the metallic tang of exposed chitin— hung heavy in the air. The dry wind whipped across the plain, carrying with it grit that stung his eyes.
The world here, unforgiving as it was, felt… right.
No deception. No trickery.
Just pure survival. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like. Almost.
This was the challenge they needed, the kind of battle that could hone their skills.
But he wasn’t going in blind. Not this time. He’d been a fool before. They were both vulnerable, still battered and exhausted from the last realm, his reserves still low, his new confidence easily shattered.