The forest greeted him with silence. Only the crunch of his steps and the distant whisper of wind through the leaves accompanied his advance. His side burned with every movement, but he pressed on. The child's scent was still present—faint but clear. A small relief within the chaos.
Hours passed. The sky slowly shifted from blue to orange, then to a soft gold announcing the arrival of night.
Finally, Lumian reached the clearing.
The boy came out of hiding immediately, crawling across the dirt before pushing himself to his feet. His eyes—wide and alert—shone when he saw Lumian. He approached with caution, like a small animal wanting to help but afraid to get too close to the fire.
Lumian simply observed him.
'He's fine.'
That was all he needed to know.
He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. The earth trembled slightly under him. Exhaustion washed over him all at once, spreading through every bone and every muscle. The fight with the Awakened had drained more from him than expected.
The boy stepped closer, looking at the wounds and the new spear on Lumian's back. It was clear he understood Lumian had fought. He glanced around, expecting more enemies to rise from the trees.
Lumian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
The sun was sinking, staining the forest in red and shadow.
'More will come… sooner or later they'll come for me.'
The thought didn't frighten him—it annoyed him. He wanted to rest. He wanted to think. But the nightmare wouldn't allow such luxury.
A leaf fell softly onto his head. The boy gently brushed it away, as if afraid to wake him. Lumian didn't open his eyes, but his body relaxed slightly, accepting the small gesture.
'Final battle… when? Tomorrow? Tonight?'
Exhaustion clouded his thoughts, dragging him toward the surface of sleep. But he couldn't fully surrender. Not yet.
Around them, the forest began its night chorus. Insects, birds, the distant river. Familiar and yet threatening. Lumian breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling.
'Just… a moment. Just… a little.'
The boy sat near him—close enough to be at his side, but leaving respectful distance. His legs trembled from fear or fatigue. Lumian heard him chewing a small fruit, probably saved from the day before.
'For now… he's safe.'
A gentle breeze swept through the clearing, rustling the Fisherman's dark-blue robe and the boy's tangled hair.
Lumian finally allowed his eyes to close fully. His breathing deepened, steady and even.
---
Lumian's eyes snapped open.
The smell had awakened him.
A thick cocktail of smoke… human sweat… oiled metal… and that special, electric scent only the Awakened carried. Sharp, slicing through the air like a knife dipped in blood.
He rose slowly. His muscles complained, still tense from the earlier fight.
The boy curled at his side blinked awake at the movement, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
Lumian frowned and sniffed again, deeper this time.
"Too many… they're coming fast."
Instinct roared in his mind.
He leapt onto the trunk of the nearest tree and climbed it with silent agility. The upper branches bent quietly under his weight.
From the dark heights, his eyes glowing in gold tones, he spotted figures moving between the trees.
Six—maybe more at first—but as they approached, Lumian counted six distinct presences, their scent unmistakable.
Awakened.
He cursed silently.
He dropped from the tree, landing without a sound. The ground shook faintly.
His eyes burned with a blend of worry and fury.
He looked at the boy.
He gestured for him to hide.
The child obeyed instantly, running toward a gap between roots. He curled up inside, trembling but silent.
Lumian grabbed the spear with one hand. The wood was still warm from earlier use, stained with the blood it had pierced.
He tightened his grip.
"I need to strike fast… take out at least two."
He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air and ferocity, then began to run.
His short rest had been enough to recover much of his strength.
Though wounded, his body vibrated with anxious, primal energy.
He moved between the trees like a heavy shadow—unseen except for the faint displacement of wind left behind.
When he reached the perfect spot, he stopped. Crouched low.
And watched.
The six Awakened hunters advanced with discipline, unlike previous scattered groups.
Their leader was impossible to ignore: a tall, broad-shouldered man wielding a massive war hammer taller than the child himself.
His full armor was black, scarred and dented.
His face looked carved from stone and fury.
"Are you sure he's around here?" one of the hunters behind asked.
"Yes," another replied, sniffing the air. "Strong scent… blood, wet earth and… his smell."
"The target left a clear trail," a third added. "And they say he killed the spear kid… and the other four."
"So he's more dangerous than they said," growled the second. "Why didn't we come all together from the start?"
The leader finally spoke, voice deep and rough:
"Because no one believed a monster without magic, without speech, could kill six Awakened."
The mistake was ours. It won't be repeated.
Lumian felt a tingling rise in his chest.
A restrained anger vibrated in his bones.
'Six… that's what they call me? Six dead… six lives… and still more come.'
A silent sigh escaped him.
'No matter. The boy lives—whatever it takes. If I must kill a hundred… I will.'
He tightened his grip…
…and threw the spear with all his strength.
It shot forward like a black bolt, tearing the air with a violent crack.
One hunter barely had time to turn.
"What—?"
The spear pierced his chest, lifted him off the ground, and kept going.
It struck the second man behind him, shattering his torso and pinning him to a tree.
A roar of shock erupted among the others.
"What the hell—?!"
"He's here! The beast is here!"
Lumian didn't give them time.
He burst out of the shadows with a brutal, crushing strike.
The third Awakened barely managed to raise an arm.
Lumian's fist slammed into his torso.
The crack sounded like a dry branch snapping.
The body flew backward, slammed into a tree, and hung there limp, eyes staring at nothing.
"Damn it!" one hunter shouted. "Formation, formation!"
The remaining three moved to surround him, but it was too late. Lumian had ended half their number before they could even breathe.
The leader gripped his hammer tightly, fury burning in his eyes.
"So you're the monster causing trouble, huh?" he growled, stepping forward. "Good. I felt like breaking something tonight."
Lumian growled back, baring his fangs.
A hunter beside the leader tried to buy time.
"Boss, what if we lure him to the trap? We have the reinforced ropes—"
"Lure him?" the leader laughed with scorn. "Can't you see it? This beast doesn't retreat. Doesn't hide. It wants to kill us. Good. Let it try."
Lumian took a step, but the hunter on the right spoke too:
"Careful, boss… he has the strength of three men. And don't forget he killed Jarev. Jarev, who—"
"Shut up!" the leader barked. "If you're scared, step back. I'm not here to mourn cowards. I'm here to break bones."
Lumian felt something electric flash in his eyes.
'He's different… He moves differently. Smells different… his energy is heavier.'
The hunter behind the leader stepped forward.
"Surround him properly! Don't let him breathe! Attack from the sides! He can't cover every angle!"
Lumian tilted his head slightly.
'They always think that… always.'
He crouched low.
The three hunters tensed.
The leader raised his hammer, shimmering under the faint torchlight.
Lumian felt the danger swell.
The remaining Awakened were not like the ones he had killed before. These had more experience. More caution. More instinct.
The air thickened between them.
The leader spoke with a deep, resonant tone:
"Beast… I don't know if you understand my words. But if you do… listen carefully. You'll pay for each one of ours. Every… single… one."
Lumian let out a low, threatening growl.
'Come. I will survive this nightmare… and I will get out.'
His eyes glowed dangerously.
The hunter on the left stepped forward.
The one on the right followed.
Lumian tightened every muscle, ready to leap.
The leader smiled.
"Good… let the hunt begin."
Lumian slowly turned his head, measuring distances.
The hunters measured him too.
Night fell into a razor-sharp silence.
Only the four of them remained.
The giant hammer.
The two flankers.
And Lumian, body coiled for battle.