Kalem adjusted the straps on his Focus Core armor, ensuring the chest piece fit snugly over his torso. The hum of the device provided a faint, reassuring rhythm as he strode into the small settlement. The village, nestled deep within the mountain range, bore the unmistakable marks of a community under siege. Doors were bolted shut, livestock pens stood empty, and the few villagers he encountered avoided his gaze, their faces pale and drawn.
He was greeted in the central square by an elder, a wiry woman with sharp, calculating eyes that belied her frail frame. She leaned heavily on a cane but radiated an air of authority.
"You're the smith-warrior they sent for?" she asked, her voice rough but steady.
Kalem nodded, his spear resting casually across his back. "That's me. Tell me about this Night Stalker."
Her expression tightened, the lines around her mouth deepening. "It's no mere beast," she said. "We call it the Night Stalker because it's more shadow than flesh. It moves like smoke, silent and swift, and strikes just before moonrise. It's already taken three of our hunters and nearly wiped out what little livestock we had left. If you can't kill it, we're as good as dead."
Kalem met her gaze, his jaw set. "Where does it come from? Does it have a pattern?"
The elder gestured to a younger man standing nearby—a hunter who looked barely old enough to hold a bow. "Jorik saw it the night it took his brother."
Jorik hesitated before stepping forward, his hands trembling slightly. "It always comes from the forest, near the old watchtower," he said. "I've seen it... or at least, I think I did. Its body is blacker than night, like a hole in the world, but its eyes—they glow red, like embers. It's fast. Too fast. It doesn't leave tracks, but its claws carve into stone like it's nothing."
Kalem's brow furrowed. The description sounded eerily familiar, but something about the Stalker's deliberate hunting patterns set it apart from the Nightmare Hounds he had encountered.
"What else do you know?" he pressed.
Jorik shook his head. "That's all I can tell you. It hunts for sport, not just to eat. It's... wrong."
Kalem turned back to the elder. "Keep your people inside tonight. Whatever happens, don't come out until sunrise."
The elder nodded grimly. "May the gods guide your hand."
As the sun sank behind the jagged peaks, Kalem scouted the area near the watchtower. The structure was little more than a crumbling ruin, its stones weathered by centuries of neglect. The surrounding forest was dense, its towering trees casting long, twisting shadows across the ground.
Kalem set to work. He arranged a series of chokepoints using fallen logs and jagged rocks, creating narrow corridors that would limit the Stalker's movements. He scattered ash from his forge across the ground, hoping to detect even the faintest disturbance.
Satisfied with his preparations, he took a position near the watchtower and waited.
The hours dragged by in silence, the air heavy with tension. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the usual sounds of nocturnal life conspicuously absent.
Then, just before moonrise, a low growl rippled through the darkness.
Kalem rose to his feet, spear in hand, his eyes scanning the shadows. A pair of faintly glowing red eyes appeared at the edge of the clearing, hovering just above the ground.
The Night Stalker had arrived.
The creature moved like a living shadow, darting between the trees with uncanny speed. Kalem barely had time to react as it lunged, its claws gleaming in the moonlight. He rolled to the side, the Stalker's swipe missing him by inches and gouging deep grooves into the stone behind him.
Kalem countered with a thrust of his spear, the weapon's Lynthian crystal grooves flaring with energy. The tip struck the Stalker's flank, eliciting a hiss of pain, but the creature recoiled into the shadows, disappearing from view.
"Fast and smart," Kalem muttered, his grip tightening on his weapon.
The Stalker circled him, its glowing eyes never leaving his form. It lunged again, and Kalem swung his spear in a wide arc. The weapon connected, sending a pulse of energy through the creature's body. The Stalker screeched, a sound that made Kalem's blood run cold, and retreated once more.
Kalem's mind raced. The Stalker was testing him, probing for weaknesses. He couldn't afford to let it dictate the fight. Activating the Focus Core, he sent a pulse of energy through the clearing, illuminating the area in a faint, otherworldly glow.
For the first time, he saw the Stalker's true form. Its body was sleek and predatory, with elongated limbs and claws like obsidian blades. Its skin shimmered, as if caught between two realities, and its glowing red eyes burned with malevolent intelligence.
Kalem hurled a throwing knife, channeling energy through the blade as it flew. The knife struck the Stalker's shoulder, causing it to stumble. Kalem pressed the advantage, switching to his longsword and closing the distance with a burst of speed.
The Stalker lashed out, its claws raking across Kalem's armor. The impact sent him staggering, but he recovered quickly, slashing at the creature with a precise strike. The blade bit deep, and the Stalker let out another ear-piercing screech.
The creature retreated to the edge of the clearing, its form flickering as if struggling to maintain its shape. Kalem could see the desperation in its movements, the raw fury in its glowing eyes.
With one final surge, he activated the Focus Core, channeling energy into his longsword. The blade glowed brilliantly as he charged, delivering a decisive strike that severed the Stalker's head from its body.
The creature collapsed, its shadowy form dissolving into the ground. The red glow of its eyes faded, leaving nothing but silence.
As dawn broke, Kalem stood over the spot where the Stalker had fallen. There was no body, no blood—only a faint scorch mark on the ground.
The villagers emerged cautiously from their homes, their expressions a mix of relief and awe.
"You did it," the elder said, her voice trembling. "The Stalker is gone."
Kalem nodded but remained silent. He couldn't shake the feeling that the creature wasn't just a random predator. Its unnatural form, its calculated movements—there was something more sinister at play.
He turned to the elder. "If anything else happens—anything strange—you let me know immediately."
She nodded solemnly. "We will. Thank you, Kalem."
As he began the journey back to his forge, Kalem's thoughts were consumed by questions. What was the Stalker, really? And how many more creatures like it were lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike?