The morning broke with a pale light, casting long shadows across the Wildlands. The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of earth and dew. Ryn tightened the straps of his pack and glanced down at the Spirit Fox, which was sniffing the ground with its small, glowing nose.
"You hungry?" Ryn asked, crouching to check on his partner.
The fox chirped softly in response, nudging his leg with its head.
"Yeah, me too," Ryn muttered, his stomach growling faintly. The Wildlands weren't exactly brimming with convenience stores, and his supplies were limited to whatever scraps he had left in his pack. "Guess we need to find breakfast first."
The two set off, leaving the grove of trees behind. The landscape stretched out before them—rolling plains dotted with patches of dense forest and jagged rock formations. Ryn had heard stories about the Wildlands growing up: tales of legendary beasts, ancient ruins, and dangers that no unprepared tamer could hope to survive.
Now, walking through it himself, he couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and unease.
"Alright," Ryn said aloud, trying to break the silence. "First order of business: food. Second, we need to figure out where the hell we're going. Third…" He hesitated, glancing at the fox. "Third, we need to figure out how to make you stronger."
The fox chirped again, as if agreeing.
They trekked for what felt like hours, searching for signs of edible plants or small prey. The Spirit Fox occasionally darted ahead, sniffing at the ground or investigating bushes, but they found little more than a few bitter berries that Ryn wasn't entirely sure were safe to eat.
Just as his frustration began to mount, the fox froze. Its ears perked up, and its glowing tail stiffened, a faint hum emanating from its body.
"What is it?" Ryn whispered, gripping the knife at his belt.
The fox trotted forward cautiously, leading Ryn toward a cluster of trees at the base of a rocky hill. As they approached, Ryn spotted something unusual: a small campsite, partially hidden by overgrown foliage.
A rusted cooking pot hung over a long-dead fire pit, and tattered bits of cloth flapped in the breeze where a tent once stood. The scene looked abandoned, but there was something about it that set Ryn on edge.
"Stay close," he murmured to the fox, stepping carefully into the clearing.
The Spirit Fox followed silently, its glowing eyes scanning the surroundings. Ryn crouched beside the fire pit, inspecting the charred remains of wood.
"Whoever was here didn't leave that long ago," he muttered. "Maybe a day or two."
The fox sniffed the ground, circling the clearing with its nose low to the dirt. Suddenly, it stopped, its fur bristling.
A low growl rumbled from somewhere nearby.
Ryn spun around, his knife drawn, as a shadow moved at the edge of the clearing. His pulse quickened as the growl grew louder, the sound reverberating through the air.
From the trees emerged a beast unlike anything Ryn had seen before. It was quadrupedal, with thick, matted fur and glowing green eyes that radiated an unnatural light. Long, curved claws scraped against the ground as it moved, and its mouth was twisted into a snarl, revealing rows of jagged teeth.
A Corrupted Stalker.
Ryn's breath caught in his throat. He had heard of corrupted beasts before—creatures tainted by the Abyssal Rift's influence—but he had never seen one up close. They were stronger, faster, and more aggressive than normal beasts, with unpredictable abilities that made them incredibly dangerous.
"Of course," Ryn muttered, his voice shaking. "Why wouldn't this happen?"
The Stalker growled again, its glowing eyes locking onto the Spirit Fox. The smaller beast let out a defiant chirp, stepping forward to stand between Ryn and the predator.
"No, no, no," Ryn whispered, his heart pounding. "We're not ready for this."
The Stalker lunged.
The Spirit Fox darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the beast's snapping jaws. Its glowing tail streaked through the air as it circled the larger creature, trying to draw its attention.
Ryn's instincts screamed at him to run, but something held him back. The bond between him and the fox pulsed faintly, and he felt a surge of determination that wasn't entirely his own.
"Alright," he muttered, gripping his knife tightly. "We're doing this."
The Spirit Fox darted under the Stalker's legs, its speed and agility making it difficult for the larger beast to land a hit. Ryn watched its movements carefully, trying to spot an opening.
The Stalker snarled, swiping at the fox with its massive claws. The smaller beast leapt backward, its glowing tail flickering as it dodged.
Ryn saw his chance. He rushed forward, aiming for the Stalker's exposed side. His knife struck home, piercing the beast's flank. The creature let out a roar of pain, thrashing wildly as it turned on Ryn.
"Move!" Ryn shouted, scrambling backward.
The Spirit Fox reacted instantly, leaping onto the Stalker's back and sinking its teeth into the creature's neck. A surge of light erupted from the fox's body, engulfing the Stalker in a blinding glow.
When the light faded, the Stalker staggered, its movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Ryn didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, driving his knife into the beast's throat.
The Stalker let out one final, gurgling growl before collapsing to the ground.
Ryn fell to his knees, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The Spirit Fox trotted over to him, its glowing eyes bright with satisfaction.
"That was…" Ryn began, his voice hoarse. He shook his head, letting out a weak laugh. "That was insane."
The fox chirped softly, nuzzling his hand.
Ryn looked at the fallen Stalker, a knot forming in his stomach. If corrupted beasts like this were roaming the Wildlands, he and the fox were in far more danger than he had realized.
But the fight had proven one thing: their bond was more than just a link. It was their greatest weapon.
"Alright," Ryn said, pushing himself to his feet. "We're alive. That's what matters." He glanced at the fox, a determined smile tugging at his lips. "Come on. Let's keep moving. I have a feeling this is just the beginning."
The Spirit Fox chirped in agreement, and together, they left the clearing behind, the shadow of the fallen Stalker fading into the distance.