The night was unforgiving. Cold gnawed at Akuma's bones like hungry rats in the darkness, sapping his strength as each moment passed. His breath came in ragged puffs, tiny clouds of condensation that hung in the freezing air, only to be swept away by the biting wind. The wasteland, already harsh by day, became a frozen hell by night. Every rock, every uneven patch of earth, was covered in a thin layer of frost that sparkled under the full moon's light.
Akuma trudged forward, his legs trembling beneath him. His body was on the verge of collapse, but he refused to stop. Not now. Not when every shadow seemed to conceal some lurking threat, waiting to pounce. The sun's blazing heat during the day was a distant memory now, replaced by the moon's eerie light and the creeping cold that slithered under his skin. He pulled his tattered cloak tighter around his body, but it did little to keep the chill away. His fingers were numb, and every step felt like he was walking on pins and needles.
Beside him, **Kuro** moved in silence, its bony frame casting long, distorted shadows across the frozen ground. The bone fiend didn't feel the cold. It didn't feel anything, for that matter. Akuma both envied and despised it for that. While his own body was slowly succumbing to the frigid night, Kuro remained an unwavering sentinel. Its hollow, lifeless eye sockets stared ahead, always scanning the surroundings for danger.
The wasteland stretched out before them, an endless sea of jagged rocks and barren earth, illuminated by the pale light of the full moon. The cold seeped deeper into Akuma's core with every passing minute, making him shiver uncontrollably. His teeth chattered, and his lips were cracked and bleeding from the dry, icy air. There was no warmth, no shelter, no respite from this torment.
But it wasn't just the cold that terrified him tonight. It was the sound.
The howl.
Akuma had heard it not long ago, cutting through the night like a blade slicing through flesh. It was a sound unlike anything he had ever encountered in his short, brutal life. The howl was long, mournful, and filled with a primal force that made his very soul quiver. He had heard cries of battle before. He had heard the dying screams of goblins and the wails of men in pain. But this… this was something else.
This was something monstrous.
The moment the sound had reached his ears, every hair on his body had stood on end, and a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead, despite the freezing air. His blood had run cold, and a deep, instinctual terror had gripped his heart. Whatever had made that noise was not of this world. It was something far more ancient, far more powerful.
It was something that could kill him without effort.
Akuma's legs had trembled as he heard the howl, his entire body going stiff with fear. For the first time in his life, he had felt truly helpless. His stomach twisted into knots, and he clenched his bone spear tighter, though deep down he knew that if this creature found him, no amount of weapons or magic would save him. He was outmatched. Completely and utterly.
He had considered hiding, but where? The wasteland offered no refuge, no place to conceal himself from whatever beast prowled the night. It was open and barren, with nothing but sparse boulders and dead earth as far as the eye could see. Even Kuro, his only companion, couldn't protect him from something this terrifying.
And so, he continued to walk, praying silently that the creature's howl would remain a distant threat, something he could avoid if he was lucky. But luck wasn't something Akuma had much of these days.
As he trudged forward, his mind whirled in a haze of fear and exhaustion. The past few days had been nothing but a nightmare. He had been training, pushing his magic as far as his weakened body would allow, but his progress was painfully slow. He only knew two spells: [Dark Flame], a demonic art that was practically harmless in its current state, and [Rigor Mortis], the spell that allowed him to summon Kuro.
[Dark Flame] was a joke. The tiny flicker of black fire it produced was barely enough to roast goblin meat, and even then, it left the flesh half-raw and disgusting. It wasn't nearly strong enough to use in battle. Meanwhile, [Rigor Mortis] allowed him to control Kuro, but only just. He had only been able to summon a single bone fiend thus far, and it was clear that his magical prowess was severely lacking. Every time he cast the spell, he could feel the strain it put on his body, as if his very soul was being drained with each use.
Akuma cursed under his breath. If only he had more power. If only he had learned more magic. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so helpless right now. But wishing for things he didn't have wouldn't save him. Not tonight.
Then, in the distance, he saw movement.
At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but as he squinted through the moonlit haze, he realized it was real. Several figures were moving in the distance, and even in the dim light, he could make out their grotesque shapes.
Goblins.
There were twelve of them, their small, hunched forms scurrying about like rats as they battled something large, something massive.
At first, Akuma couldn't quite make out what the goblins were fighting. But as he moved closer, the full moon bathed the scene in its ghostly light, revealing the creature in all its terrifying majesty.
It stood tall, towering over the goblins like a titan among insects. Its thick fur was a mesmerizing blend of gray and white, like the misty dawn of a winter morning. The creature's body was rippling with raw muscle, each movement exuding a primal power that made Akuma's knees go weak.
Its eyes—those cold, crystalline eyes—gleamed with an intensity that pierced the darkness like two shards of frozen ice. They were the eyes of a predator, a hunter that thrived in the night.
The beast's howl—Akuma knew now that it was this creature that had made the chilling sound—was a haunting melody, a mournful cry that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. It echoed across the wasteland like a ghostly whisper, sending shivers down Akuma's spine.
It was a **Dire Wolf**.
The name came to him suddenly, like a bolt of lightning to his brain. A memory, buried and forgotten, surged to the surface. A book. One of his favorite books from his home, filled with tales of mythical monsters and fantastical beasts that were said to roam the lands of their continent, Eden.
Akuma had never believed the stories back then. The book had described creatures like goblins, dire wolves, and other fantastical beings, but they had always seemed like fairy tales, things that didn't exist in the real world.
Eden was ruled by four dominant races—humans, elves, draconians, and demons. These races divided the continent into four territories, each one governed by its own powerful factions. There were no monsters or magical beasts. Only the wild, mundane animals that roamed the forests and plains.
Yet here, in front of him, stood one of those mythical creatures. A Dire Wolf, just like the one described in his book. Its fur, its eyes, its howl—everything matched the description perfectly. It was both magnificent and terrifying, a creature of legend brought to life.
The goblins were fighting a losing battle against the majestic beast. Despite their numbers, they were no match for the sheer power and ferocity of the Dire Wolf. It moved with a fluid grace, each swipe of its massive paws sending goblins flying through the air like ragdolls. Its jaws snapped down on one goblin, crushing its skull with ease before tossing the limp body aside.
Akuma watched, frozen in place, as the Dire Wolf tore through the goblins with terrifying efficiency. He could hear their high-pitched screams, their desperate cries as they tried to fight back, but it was no use. The Dire Wolf was a force of nature, unstoppable and merciless.
A cold sweat dripped down Akuma's back as he realized the gravity of the situation. He was witnessing a massacre, and if the Dire Wolf finished with the goblins, it might turn its attention to him next. His heart pounded in his chest, and his body trembled with fear. He knew, deep down, that there was no way he could survive if the beast spotted him.
"Run…" he whispered to himself, barely able to form the words. "I have to run…"
But his legs refused to move. He was paralyzed with terror, his body rooted to the spot as the scene unfolded before him. Every instinct screamed at him to flee, to get as far away from the Dire Wolf as possible, but he couldn't. He was too afraid.
And then, as if sensing his presence, the Dire Wolf turned its head.
Its icy eyes locked onto Akuma, and in that moment, his heart stopped.
The world around him seemed to slow to a crawl, the only sound the deafening thud of his own heartbeat in his ears. The Dire Wolf's gaze was piercing, its eyes filled with a cold, predatory intelligence. It knew he was there. It had seen him.
Akuma's breath caught in his throat, and for a brief moment, time stood still.