The air was brisk, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as Dorian Kael treaded down the overgrown path. The mountain had long since faded into the mist behind him, and before him stretched rolling hills that gave way to forests. Somewhere far ahead lay the capital—shimmering with its spires of glass and steel, a city teetering between the old world of magic and the new age of machines.
Dorian walked with purpose, his boots crunching against the gravel. His sword hung at his side, swaying with each step, its familiar weight both a comfort and a reminder of the dangers that still lurked in the wilds. The satchel on his back carried only the bare essentials, but it felt lighter than the burden of his past.
The first sign of trouble came as he approached the edge of a dense forest. The faint rustling of leaves overhead seemed almost too rhythmic, too intentional. Dorian’s hand instinctively fell to the hilt of his sword. He paused, his sharp gray eyes scanning the trees.
A low growl broke the silence.
From the shadows emerged a creature unlike anything the natural world should have birthed—a skeletal wolf, its decaying flesh clinging to sharp, exposed ribs, and its glowing, red eyes locked on him. Behind it, two more emerged, their movements unnervingly silent.
Dorian exhaled, drawing his sword in one smooth motion. “You couldn’t wait until I reached the road?” he muttered.
The first wolf lunged, its jaws snapping inches from his face. Dorian sidestepped, his blade flashing in a wide arc. The steel struck true, slicing through the creature’s neck. The head tumbled to the ground, but the body didn’t fall. Instead, it clawed at him, driven by whatever foul magic animated it.
Dorian cursed and thrust his free hand forward, murmuring an incantation under his breath. A surge of blue flames erupted from his palm, enveloping the creature. It crumpled to ash, leaving the other two wolves circling cautiously.
---
The second wolf pounced from his left. Dorian twisted, his blade catching its spine mid-air. The strike severed the creature cleanly, but even as it fell in two pieces, the fragments twitched, struggling to reform.
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“No,” Dorian growled, slamming his boot down on the beast’s skull. He pointed two fingers at its remains, releasing a crackling bolt of electricity that shattered its bones into harmless shards.
The third wolf snarled, its glowing eyes narrowing as it skulked closer. It was larger than the others, its body more intact, with jagged antlers sprouting from its skull like some twisted mockery of a stag.
The wolf feinted, darting left and right, testing his defenses. Dorian didn’t wait for it to strike. He surged forward, his movements unnervingly fast for a man his size, and brought his sword down in a heavy, two-handed arc. The wolf dodged, but not entirely; the blade sheared through one of its legs.
The creature howled in pain, its voice a ghastly mix of animal and human screams. Dorian didn’t hesitate. He thrust his sword into the ground, freeing both hands to weave a more powerful spell. His words were sharp and guttural, ancient phrases that made the air around him hum with energy.
A moment later, the earth beneath the wolf erupted into jagged spikes of stone, impaling the beast from all sides. It twitched once, then fell still, the light fading from its eyes.
Dorian retrieved his sword and wiped the blade clean on the grass. “Still got it,” he muttered, though his tone was more weary than triumphant.
---
As the day wore on, the road grew quieter, the forest thinning into open plains. But peace was fleeting.
Dorian’s next challenge came at dusk, when he spotted a Chimera prowling near the ruins of an old watchtower. Its lion-like body was massive, with a serpentine tail coiling behind it and the head of a goat jutting grotesquely from its back. The beast turned to him, its eyes gleaming with feral intelligence.
“Of course,” Dorian sighed, drawing his sword once more.
The Chimera roared, its lion head belching a jet of fire. Dorian rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the flames, and countered with a spell. A gust of wind howled from his outstretched hand, snuffing out the fire and staggering the beast.
He charged, his blade flashing as he aimed for the lion’s throat. The Chimera twisted, its goat head butting him with surprising force. The impact sent him stumbling back, his grip tightening on his sword.
The serpent tail struck next, its fanged mouth darting toward his face. Dorian caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and pivoted, slicing upward. The blade severed the tail with a sickening crunch, and the creature howled in agony.
The Chimera reared up on its hind legs, its claws slashing wildly. Dorian raised his free hand and unleashed a barrage of icy shards, each one embedding into the creature’s hide. Frost spread across its body, slowing its movements.
He saw his opening. With a battle-hardened roar, Dorian leapt forward, driving his sword into the lion’s chest. The beast collapsed, its weight nearly pinning him, but Dorian rolled free just in time.
The Chimera let out a final, pitiful growl before falling silent.
---
By the time Dorian reached the edge of the capital’s outskirts, the stars were already beginning to emerge in the darkening sky. His body ached from the day’s battles, but his mind was sharper than it had been in centuries.
The sight before him was staggering: the capital city of Illimara, a sprawling metropolis where the glow of magitech lamps illuminated towering spires and bustling streets. Airships drifted lazily overhead, and trains powered by both steam and magic roared through elevated tracks.
Dorian adjusted his satchel and stepped forward, his heart heavy with apprehension. He had fought monsters today, but he knew the challenges awaiting him in the city would be far more insidious.
For now, though, he allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction. The beasts had been a test, and he had passed.
Whatever lay ahead, he was ready.
