It stood at the entrance of the cave.

Wrapped in a thick coat of fur, it was darker than the forest on the night sky. Its broad shoulders rippled with muscle beneath the glossy, midnight-colored hide. The sun shone around it, but it never seemed to touch it, enhancing its already dark figure. The only part of its body that almost emitted its own light was the thick, long white claws at the end of its paws, the size of which would scare off even a Silverfang.

Its snout was long and tapered, leading to a set of nostrils that flared wide as it scented the wind, probably catching hints of everything that moved in the forest. Its eyes, small and beady, held an almost curious gleam — scanning us with a mix of wariness and at the same time indifference. Yet, what drew my attention most was its bulk. It wasn’t just the sheer size of it, but the way it seemed solid — like a creature that could shrug off trees or push boulders aside if it chose to.

Mira had told me of this beast before, but it was my first time meeting it personally.

A Darkclaw.

A little weird name, given its appearance, but it wasn’t like I was the one to come up with it so...

It let out a low but deep growl, alarming me when it moved its foot one step forward.

If I listened to my instincts, I would have rushed at it, coating my hand in water or wind and punching at its nose with all my strength, but I didn’t.

Because I wasn’t alone right now. I was with Mira, and while that approach would maybe allow me to escape if done correctly, it wouldn’t be the same for her nor the beast.

What if the beast simply ignored me? What if Mira was hurt because of me? I didn’t want to think of that.

So, by the time the Darkclaw had made another step forward, I had remained in place, not knowing what to do.

“M-Mira...” I whispered in my lowest voice, “what do we do?”

“Nothing. Stay put.” her soft voice calm and gentl with no hint of fear in her tone.

And there was a very good reason for it. Darkclaw’s while, apparently, scary looking, and one of the strongest beasts of our forests, were one of the most calming ones as well.

I still remember Mira explaining it in this cool way of “a king doesn’t fight, he command’s.”

It went like this: since they are feared even by other beasts, they don’t usually fight and thus over time they naturally grew tamer. Important to note, though, that didn’t mean they grew any less weaker.

The beast came almost face to face with me, the air exhaled by its nostrils brushing my hair.

Trembling, I closed my eyes and tired to hold myself in place.

I opened them again only after it stepped away from me and turned to Mira.

In the slowest motion possible, I turned my head slightly.

It was circling around her, sniffing with a hint of curiosity. I assumed it was trying to decide whether we were food, a threat, or something else entirely. That was until it suddenly stopped beside her and opened its massive maw, rows of teeth glinting as if ready to tear into her.

I acted before I could think—launching myself forward with a burst of wind beneath my feet, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Mid-air, I gathered the quint of my core into my hand, forming it into an earthly glove around it.

“Lyon, no!” Mira screamed but remained unmoving.

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Meanwhile, the beast closed its mouth back letting out a soft groan as it did so.

My eyes widened, but it was too late for me to halt.

It wasn’t trying to bite her head off, it was yawning!

‘Crap...’

Half a second later, a resounding punch landed straight at the beast cheek, the force strong enough make it drag along the ground and slam into the wall, the entire cavern shaking, dust falling from above.

For a moment, I stayed there, motionless, circulating the quint into my body, ready to act if need be.

I had messed up big time, but in my defense, how was I supposed to know? It stood right next to her with a mouth big enough to bite off her entire head! I wasn’t going to risk it.

As the smoke cleared out a loud echoing growl reverberated, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Come on!” I said, quickly grabbing Mira by the hand and making a run for it.

At least, with the beast out of the way, there wasn’t anything blocking the exit.

As we stepped out of the cave, I glanced back and locked eyes with the Darkclaw, its piercing gaze sending a chill down my spine. Before it could react however, I put into practice something I’d been working on for a while now.

Shaping quint into a single element proved to be quite easy. Once I got the hang of that new sixth sense, controlling it was second nature—especially since I could see it too. Performing two elements at the same time turned out to be trickier though.

I wasn’t sure if my line of thought was even correct, but, basically, there were different applications of that sixth sense. Depending on the different guidance of quint, something that was determined mostly by me either consciously or unconsciously, quint would form into the corresponding element. Take wind for example, the very first time I used it was by accidentally pushing it beyond my fingertips.

That’s why it was tricky to perform two elements at a time, since it required two different motions simultaneously without each disrupting the another.

But that was not what I was trying to do here.

I had to go even further.

With earth swirling in one hand and water coiling in the other, I needed to add wind to the mix. I was out of free hands, so I used the next best thing: my mouth.

As I threw them all at once, the three elements fused into a whirling stream of muddy gust, blasting toward the cave’s entrance.

It moved sluggishly—too weak and unrefined. My lack of power and inexperience in handling three elements at once made it unwieldy. But it didn’t need to be perfect. It wasn’t meant as an attack.

As it inched forward, mud splattered everywhere, spraying leaves, grass, and, most importantly, the entrance. Small clumps flew in every direction, just as I intended, obscuring the Darkclaw’s vision.

Its entire purpose was to buy us time—to blind it just long enough for us to slip away safely.

“Lyon, how can you—”

“The hill isn’t that far off, let’s go!” I cut her off, still fueled by the tension of the moment, already sprinting in the hills direction.

We were so close—less than a ten-minute run. If we could just make it there, we’d be save. I know the forest well enough, but Mira even more so. We’d have no trouble finding a secure path back and returning at nightfall. By then, the Darkclaw would be long gone, and we’d be able to watch the meteor fall in peace.

It was the perfect plan!

Mira hesitated for a moment, but then followed behind me, her face lined with worry.

That look made my heart tighten.

Why? Was something wrong? Had the Darkclaw escaped and was already after us?

I skidded to a stop and glanced back, but there was nothing—just trees and leaves. No sign of a massive black furball chasing us. On the contrary, we had almost reached the hill, visible into the distance.

With the heat of the moment cooling down, I turned to her. “What is it?”

We were practically at our destination, so I needed to know what had her so unsettled. Was she hurt? Did the beast manage to scratch or bite her?

“Lyon, dear...” She sighed, kneeling down to meet my gaze. “Did you think it was trying to bite me?” Her voice was soft and warm, a mix of worry and curiosity, without a hint of anger.

I blinked twice, then looked away. “Y-Yes.”

Her gentle laugh made me glance back up. She was smiling. “Thank you for trying to protect me,” she said softly.

I waited, half-expecting her to add something like you shouldn’t have acted so recklessly. But she never said it.

“Aren’t you mad?” I asked after a while, a bit embarrassed and a bit anxious to hear the answer.

“Mad? No. Why would I be?” She tilted her head. “You did what you thought was best in the moment.”

“But—if I hadn’t acted, if I had listened to you, we wouldn’t have had to run! Why aren’t you saying I should’ve been careful and listen to you? I blurted out, confused.

Her smile grew even warmer. “Because it seems to me,” she said gently, “that you’ve already learned your lesson.”

I gasped, a moment of silence stretching between us. Just one moment—before a low, guttural growl echoed through the forest.

“But I’m still worried,” Mira added quietly.

The tension snapped back, coiling tight. She took my hand, and we moved cautiously toward the hill, where the field would open up, giving us a better view of our surroundings. We needed to know where the sound came from—to find it and avoid it.

But it didn’t matter.

The growls were already here.

Not one, but two Darkclaws, their bleak eyes glowing with a ravenous hunger.