Straightening, Kael adjusted the strap of his satchel and moved deeper into the cave. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the stench of damp stone, old blood, and the acrid tang of the poison he had crafted. The faint sound of dripping water echoed around him, a haunting counterpoint to his measured footfalls. Shadows danced wildly along the walls, distorted by the uneven rock formations, giving the impression of lurking creatures ready to pounce.

  The passage narrowed, forcing Kael to hunch as he pressed forward, his sword held low but ready. The faint sound of movement ahead reached his ears—a soft rustling, like dry leaves being disturbed. He paused, straining to listen. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as a low, guttural growl echoed faintly through the tunnel.

  Kael exhaled quietly, centering himself. He stepped into a wide chamber, the torch’s flame flaring to illuminate the space. The cavern opened into what could only be the Harrowmoths' den. The floor was littered with bones, stripped clean and glistening in the dim light. Piles of shredded vegetation and damp moss formed makeshift nests along the edges of the chamber, each one large enough to cradle a beast twice the size of the one Kael had just felled.

  Before he could take in more, a sudden screech split the air, piercing and savage. Kael’s head snapped to the right as movement erupted from the shadows. Three Harrowmoths emerged, their massive forms cutting through the gloom like living nightmares. Their leathery wings unfurled with a bone-chilling rustle, filling the chamber with a suffocating sense of menace. Each creature was nearly twice his height, their bodies covered in mottled gray and black hides that rippled with raw muscle.

  The largest of the three stepped forward, its claws clicking against the stone floor as it released a low, rumbling roar that seemed to vibrate through the cavern itself.

  The other two flanked it, their wings stretching wide as they hissed in unison. The sound was like nails scraping against iron, a grating cacophony that made Kael’s ears ring. Drool dripped from their gaping maws, sizzling faintly as it struck the stone—a stark reminder that their saliva was as dangerous as their claws.

  Kael’s heart pounded, but his face remained a mask of calm focus. He shifted his weight, lowering his center of gravity as he prepared for the inevitable attack. His torch flickered again, the flame casting long, jagged shadows on the walls. The Harrowmoths snarled and spread out, their movements eerily coordinated as they began to encircle him.

  The largest one tilted its head, its yellow eyes narrowing as if assessing him, deciding how best to strike. Kael took a step back, his boots crunching on a shattered bone beneath him. The sound seemed to trigger something in the creatures. The lead Harrowmoth let out another ear-splitting roar, and the three of them charged.

  Kael’s torch fell to the cavern floor, its flame sputtering as he instinctively raised his hands. The three Harrowmoths, advanced with guttural roars that echoed off the stone walls. Their crimson eyes glinted in the dim light, fixed hungrily on him. Kael didn’t hesitate.

  “Jarla!” he bellowed, his voice resonating with raw power. Flames erupted from his hands, a torrent of sparks and embers surging outward in a brilliant display. The spell washed over the Harrowmoths, forcing them to recoil with screeches of rage and pain as the fiery sparks danced across their sensitive carapaces. The sudden brightness illuminated the cavern, casting flickering shadows on the jagged walls.

  Kael’s sword was already in his hand as he surged forward. His movements were almost imperceptibly fast, his enhanced reflexes guiding every step. The lead Harrowmoth recovered quickly, lunging at him with a speed that would have overwhelmed an ordinary human. He sidestepped the attack in a blur, his boots sliding across the uneven ground as the creature’s claws raked the empty air where he had been.

  He retaliated with a powerful slash aimed at its thorax. The blade connected with a sharp crack, carving a deep gash into the Harrowmoth’s chitinous armor. Dark ichor oozed from the wound, and the beast let out an ear-splitting roar, its wings buzzing furiously as it lashed out. Kael ducked low, his body moving with the precision of a trained predator. The creature’s claws sliced through the air just above his head.

  Before Kael could counter, one of the other Harrowmoths charged from his flank. He spun, his instincts screaming danger, and unleashed another fiery blast. “Jarla!” he roared, the spell igniting the air around him with a crackling inferno. Sparks cascaded over the second Harrowmoth, halting its charge as it screeched and stumbled back. The flames danced across its wings, singeing the delicate membranes.

  The third Harrowmoth took advantage of the chaos, leaping at him from the shadows. Kael’s reflexes saved him again—he dropped into a roll, feeling the rush of air as its claws sliced through the space he’d just vacated. He came up in a crouch, his sword raised defensively.

  The cavern was alive with movement and sound: the buzzing of wings, the scrape of claws on stone, and the crackle of residual fire from his spells. Kael knew he had to divide and conquer. Fighting all three at once would be suicide, even for him.

  The first Harrowmoth lunged again, and Kael met it head-on. His blade flashed in the dim light as he deflected a claw swipe, the impact reverberating up his arm. He countered with a vicious upward slash, striking just below the creature’s jaw. The Harrowmoth screamed, ichor spraying from the wound as it staggered back.

  The reprieve was brief. The second Harrowmoth, its wings still smoking, surged toward him with terrifying speed. Kael pivoted on his heel, narrowly dodging its snapping mandibles. He lashed out with a horizontal strike, his sword biting into one of its forelegs and severing it cleanly. The creature stumbled but didn’t falter, its eyes glowing with murderous intent.

  Pain flared in Kael’s side as the third Harrowmoth’s tail whipped out, striking him like a barbed lash. He grunted, the force of the blow nearly knocking him off balance. Blood seeped from the wound, soaking into his tunic, but he ignored it. Pain was an old companion, one he’d learned to push aside in the heat of battle.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Jarla!” Kael shouted again, his voice hoarse but determined. Another wave of fire erupted from his outstretched hand, engulfing the advancing Harrowmoths. The flames forced them back, their shrieks echoing through the cavern. The firelight reflected off Kael’s sweat-slicked face, his features etched with grim determination.

  He pressed his advantage, focusing on the injured lead Harrowmoth. It was slower now, its movements hampered by the deep wounds he’d inflicted. Kael darted in, his sword moving with blinding speed. He feinted left, drawing the creature’s claws in that direction, then reversed his grip and drove the blade straight into its abdomen. The Harrowmoth convulsed, its claws flailing wildly, but Kael twisted the blade with brutal efficiency.

  The creature let out one final, gurgling roar before collapsing in a heap. Kael yanked his sword free, ichor dripping from the blade, and turned to face the remaining two.

  They were wary now, circling him like wolves sizing up their prey. Kael’s chest heaved as he caught his breath, his muscles coiled like springs. Blood trickled from the wound in his side and the shallow cuts on his arms, but his grip on his sword was steady.

  The second Harrowmoth attacked first, its movements erratic but no less deadly. Kael parried its initial strike, the force of the blow rattling his bones. He countered with a precise thrust, aiming for the soft joint between its thorax and abdomen. The blade found its mark, sinking deep into the creature’s flesh.

  The Harrowmoth shrieked and lashed out with its claws, catching Kael’s shoulder. The impact sent him stumbling back, his vision swimming briefly. He gritted his teeth and swung his sword in a wide arc, forcing the creature to retreat.

  The third Harrowmoth seized the opportunity, leaping at him with terrifying speed. Kael had only a split second to react. He dropped low, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to evade the attack by the narrowest of margins. As the creature landed, its claws gouging deep furrows in the stone, Kael sprang up behind it.

  “Jarla!” he roared one final time, unleashing a concentrated burst of fire directly at its back. The flames engulfed the Harrowmoth, its screeches turning to agonized wails as the fire consumed its wings and chitin.

  Kael didn’t wait for it to recover. He closed the distance in a blur, his sword arcing downward with all his strength. The blade cleaved through the creature’s neck, severing its head in a single, brutal stroke.

  The cavern fell silent, save for the crackle of lingering flames and Kael’s ragged breathing. The second Harrowmoth, grievously wounded and limping, attempted to flee. Kael strode after it, his movements purposeful despite the pain wracking his body. He caught up to it in moments, driving his sword through its thorax with a final, decisive thrust.

  The creature shuddered, then collapsed, its body joining the others in death.

  Kael stood amidst the carnage, his chest rising and falling heavily. Blood dripped from his wounds, mingling with the ichor that coated his armor and blade. The faint glow of dying embers illuminated his hardened expression.

  Kael leaned against the cavern wall, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of burnt chitin lingered in the air. His muscles burned, his side throbbed where the Harrowmoth's tail had struck him, and his fingers trembled slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. Using so many Jarla spells in quick succession had taken a toll—casting magic often drained him as much as hours of intense combat.

  But his body recovered quickly. Within moments, his breathing steadied, and the ache in his limbs began to fade. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck, the faint cracks of tension releasing as he straightened. His mind cleared, sharpening to a razor’s edge as he surveyed the cavern.

  The flickering remnants of his magic illuminated the space around him, revealing the gruesome aftermath of the fight: ichor pooling on the stone floor, shredded pieces of Harrowmoth wings, and the charred remains of nests lining the walls. Five of them in total, crafted from an intricate weave of bone, webbing, and organic material. His eyes narrowed as they settled on the largest nest in the chamber, perched on a natural rise near the back of the cavern.

  It was enormous, easily three times the size of the others, its outer shell reinforced with thick, glossy layers of hardened resin. This was unmistakably the Harrowmatriarch’s nest—the queen of the swarm, the monstrous heart of this den.

  Kael wiped his sword clean on a scrap of fabric torn from his cloak, the dark ichor smearing off in thick streaks. The blade glinted faintly in the dim light, its surface marred by scratches and residue.

  He sheathed the short sword to his waist and drew the long sword from his back, plenty of room to swing the blade.

  He crouched down and rummaged through his satchel, retrieving a small glass vial. The liquid inside shimmered a sickly green, swirling unnaturally as if alive. The remaning poison. Kael uncorked the vial and carefully poured its contents onto the edge of his blade, using his finger to smear it evenly along the weapon’s length.

  Satisfied, he stepped back toward the center of the cavern, his boots crunching on debris. He positioned himself near the largest nest, his senses on high alert. His keen hearing picked up the faintest vibrations—a low, rhythmic rumble that grew steadily louder.

  She’s coming, he thought grimly.

  The sound intensified, a deep, guttural resonance that sent tremors through the stone beneath his feet. The Harrowmatriarch had sensed the slaughter of her brood. Kael could feel the air grow heavier, the oppressive weight of her presence creeping into the cavern.

  Hiss grip tightening on his sword. He could imagine her fury, her blind, animalistic rage driving her forward.

  The rumbling grew louder, and the cavern seemed to vibrate with each step she took. Kael stood his ground, his stance firm, his enhanced reflexes ready to react at a moment’s notice.

  The Harrowmatriarch emerged from the shadows like a nightmare given flesh, her grotesque form dwarfing the remnants of her fallen brood. Her bat-like visage twisted into an expression of primal rage, rows of jagged fangs gleaming wet with saliva. as her maw parted in a guttural roar that shook the cavern walls. Her glowing yellow eyes burned with intelligence and malice, locking onto Kael with the predatory focus of a beast defending her domain.

  Her massive wings unfurled, leathery and riddled with scars, stretching wide enough to scrape against the rocky walls of the den. They were torn and weathered, yet still powerful, each beat stirring a whirlwind of dust and debris that swirled ominously around her.

  Thick, matted fur clung to her hulking frame, streaked with the grime of countless battles and the remnants of her savage existence. Her mane, a wild tangle of coarse hair, seemed almost alive, shifting with her every movement like a living shroud. The creature's clawed hands, unnervingly humanoid in their articulation, curled and uncurled as though eager to tear Kael apart.

  The stench of decay and raw power rolled off her in waves, a foul aura that threatened to suffocate the air around them. Her form pulsed with grotesque vitality, muscles rippling beneath her fur as she loomed forward, each step reverberating with ominous weight.

  Kael gripped his sword tighter, the poisoned blade glinting faintly in the dim light. He could feel the raw power emanating from her, the sheer force of her presence pressing down on him like an oppressive wave.