Let's build on the intensity from the previous chapter. In this next one, Tyranor will face the Night Warg, while his team's suspicions continue to deepen. As Tyranor taps into the dark mana to defeat the Warg, the line between him and the unknown force inside him will blur further, heightening both internal and external conflict. The team, increasingly wary of Tyranor, will start to question how much longer they can follow him.
---
The Night Warg stood like a towering shadow at the edge of the clearing, its glowing red eyes locked onto the group. Its low growl rumbled through the air, sending a chill down their spines. Tyranor could feel the beast's malice washing over him like a wave, but there was something else—something familiar.
The mana inside him pulsed in response, as if recognizing the Warg as kin.
Ferran drew his axe, his knuckles white with tension. "We can't take this thing head-on."
Lira, standing behind him, nodded. "It's too powerful. We have to outmaneuver it."
Tyranor's gaze remained fixed on the Warg. The mana inside him surged, its dark energy pulling at him, urging him to act. He could feel the connection between him and the beast—the same twisted mana that had been in the crystal. But now, it wasn't just a force; it was a voice, a presence inside him.
You are mine, it whispered, more clearly than before.
He clenched his fists, his heart pounding. The power was intoxicating, and part of him wanted to embrace it fully, to unleash it and crush the beast before him. But he knew that doing so would come at a cost. The dark force inside him was not a gift; it was a trap.
"Tyranor," Lira called, her voice urgent. "We need a plan!"
He blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. His team was counting on him, but they didn't understand what was happening inside him. They couldn't see the battle he was fighting—not just with the Warg, but with the darkness in his own soul.
"I'll handle it," Tyranor said, his voice low and controlled.
Ferran turned to him, eyes narrowing. "You can't take this thing alone."
Tyranor met his gaze, his eyes glowing with the faint, unnatural light of the mana he had absorbed. "Trust me."
For a moment, Ferran looked like he was about to protest, but then he stepped back, his grip on his axe tightening. "Fine. But if this goes south, we're pulling you out."
Tyranor didn't respond. He stepped forward, toward the Warg, his every muscle tense with the anticipation of the coming fight.
---
The Warg growled again, lowering itself into a predatory stance. Its claws dug into the ground, and its eyes glowed brighter, locking onto Tyranor as he approached. The beast could sense the power within him—could sense the dark force that they both shared.
Tyranor stopped a few paces away from the Warg, his eyes never leaving the creature's. His heart raced, but his mind was sharp, focused. He could feel the dark mana stirring within him, eager to be unleashed.
Do it, the voice whispered. Let me in.
He gritted his teeth, pushing back against the temptation. He couldn't let the darkness consume him, not yet. But he also knew he couldn't defeat the Warg without it. He needed to find a way to control it—bend it to his will, rather than letting it control him.
With a deep breath, Tyranor raised his hand, letting the mana flow through him, but only just enough. He could feel the power surge through his veins, a torrent of energy that threatened to overwhelm him. But he held it back, keeping the dark force at bay as best as he could.
The Warg lunged.
It moved with terrifying speed, a blur of black fur and gleaming fangs. Tyranor barely had time to react. He sidestepped, his movements unnaturally quick, the dark mana amplifying his reflexes. The Warg's claws slashed through the air where he had just been standing, missing him by inches.
He spun around, drawing his sword, and slashed at the beast. The blade cut through the Warg's thick hide, but only barely. The creature let out a snarl of pain, its red eyes burning with rage.
The force inside him surged again, more insistent this time. More, it whispered. Give me more.
Tyranor's vision blurred for a moment, the edges of his world darkening as the mana threatened to take over. He could feel the presence within him growing stronger, more demanding.
The Warg attacked again, and this time Tyranor couldn't dodge in time. The beast's massive paw slammed into him, sending him flying backward. He hit the ground hard, pain exploding through his chest. He gasped, trying to catch his breath, but the Warg was already coming for him again.
Let me in, the voice hissed. You are mine.
Tyranor's grip on his sword tightened. He could feel the darkness inside him rising, like a wave about to crash. He had no choice. If he didn't let it in, he would die.
With a low growl of his own, Tyranor released the restraints on the mana.
The power flooded into him, overwhelming, suffocating. But this time, he didn't resist. He embraced it. His body moved on its own, faster than before, stronger. His sword glowed with dark energy as he slashed at the Warg, the force of his attack sending the beast staggering back.
The Warg howled in pain, its red eyes flashing with fear for the first time.
Tyranor didn't stop. He lunged forward, striking again and again, each blow infused with the dark mana. The Warg was powerful, but Tyranor was something else now—something more. With one final, brutal strike, he drove his sword deep into the beast's chest, piercing its heart.
The Warg let out one last, agonized growl before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.
---
The clearing was silent.
Tyranor stood over the Warg's body, his chest heaving, his sword still glowing with dark energy. His entire body felt like it was on fire, the mana raging inside him like an uncontrollable storm. But he had done it. He had won.
Behind him, the group slowly approached, their faces pale with shock.
Lira was the first to speak. "Tyranor… what… what was that?"
He didn't respond. He couldn't. The power was still surging through him, and the voice was louder than ever, its presence suffocating.
You are mine.
Ferran's hand hovered near his axe again. "Tyranor, what's happening to you?"
Tyranor clenched his fists, trying to push the voice back, but it wouldn't leave. The darkness was inside him now, a part of him. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of it.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice strained. "Let's move."
But the group didn't move. They stood there, watching him with a mixture of fear and suspicion.
"You're not fine," Lira said, her voice filled with concern. "That thing you did… it wasn't normal. It wasn't human."
Tyranor turned to face them, his eyes still glowing faintly. "I said I'm fine."
But they didn't believe him. He could see it in their eyes. They were afraid of him now. And they had every right to be.
---
As they made their way back to their camp, Tyranor felt the weight of their gazes on him, the unspoken tension hanging between them. They didn't trust him anymore. And why should they? He didn't even trust himself.
The voice inside him was quieter now, but it was still there, lurking in the shadows of his mind.
You are mine.
Tyranor knew that this was only the beginning. The darkness inside him was growing, and soon it would be too much to control. But he wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.
Because if there was one thing Tyranor knew, it was that power came at a price.
And he was willing to pay it.
---
End of Chapter 10
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In this chapter, Tyranor faces not only the Night Warg but also the growing darkness within himself. As he taps into the dark mana, he becomes more powerful, but at the cost of his own humanity. His team is now more suspicious of him than ever, and the rift between them is widening.