The wind carried the scent of blood and stone.
Kael'thir moved across the riverbank, his steps silent, his crimson eyes flicking between the cracked ground and the endless gray sky above.
He had killed.
He had fed.
And now—
He had grown.
The change was subtle but undeniable.
His claws felt sharper, his muscles denser, the ache in his bones shifting into something stronger. His body was still small, still far beneath what it should be, but it was no longer weak.
He could feel it.
His wings twitched against his back, still underdeveloped, still useless.
But not for long.
His tail lashed once, scattering dust and dried blood into the air.
He needed more.
More mana. More kills. More strength.
A dragon did not stop.
A dragon did not wait.
A dragon devoured.
And he was not finished.
The fox remained by his side.
She was a constant presence now, a white shadow that never left, never strayed too far.
Kael'thir did not know why.
He did not understand her.
But she had done nothing to challenge him.
And so, he allowed it.
For now.
She moved gracefully, barely making a sound as she followed, her golden eyes always locked onto him.
Watching.
Waiting.
Kael'thir had stopped questioning it.
For now, she was not prey.
She was simply there.
Hours passed.
The river wound its way through the land, the terrain shifting, rising. The air grew heavier, the scent of old stone mixing with the distant traces of something new.
Kael'thir slowed.
His nostrils flared.
There was something ahead.
Something different.
The ground beneath his claws changed.
The barren, cracked dirt gave way to something older, untouched by time.
Stone.
Not broken ruins—natural rock.
A canyon.
Kael'thir lifted his head, his gaze sweeping across the jagged cliffs that rose before him.
Massive formations of stone stretched into the sky, deep ravines carving through them like veins in flesh.
The air here was thicker.
The mana richer.
It was still weak, still barely worthy of his presence—
But it was more than what he had left behind.
And more was enough.
Kael'thir's tail flicked once, a quiet rumble building in his chest.
This place had life.
That meant it had prey.
His body tensed as he moved forward.
The fox followed without hesitation.
The first sound of life came from the cliffs.
A low, echoing cry—thin, sharp, hungry.
Kael'thir stopped.
His ears twitched, his instincts flaring as he turned his gaze toward the noise.
Something was moving along the rocks above.
Multiple things.
Small. Fast. Their presence flickering in and out, blending with the stone.
Kael'thir narrowed his eyes.
He had never seen them before.
But they smelled of blood.
That meant they were killers.
Good.
Predators had stronger mana.
He crouched lower, his tail coiling, his body preparing—
Then he saw them.
Stoneclaw Raptors.
Their bodies were thin but powerful, built for speed and ambush tactics. Their scales were gray, blending perfectly with the rock, their eyes sharp and hungry.
A pack of them, moving along the cliffside, their razor talons clinking against the stone as they circled something below.
Kael'thir's gaze flickered downward.
A creature lay beneath them, cornered against the ravine wall.
A large, four-legged beast, covered in thick, dark fur, blood dripping from a fresh wound in its side.
It was still alive.
Still struggling.
But it was already dying.
Kael'thir's instincts sharpened.
This was a hunt in progress.
The raptors were waiting.
Circling.
They were going to strike as soon as their prey collapsed.
His claws flexed.
No.
They were not going to kill it.
He was.
Kael'thir moved.
The raptors were fast—but he was faster.
He lunged toward the dying beast, claws scraping against the rock, his body surging forward.
The pack hissed, shrieking in alarm, their heads snapping toward him as they realized—
He was not prey.
He was competition.
The moment his claws sank into the dying creature's throat, the pack attacked.
It was chaos.
The first raptor lunged for his side, fangs snapping.
Kael'thir rolled sharply, his claws raking through its leg, sending it tumbling.
A second raptor struck from above, talons aimed for his neck.
Kael'thir twisted, his jaws snapping upward, teeth sinking into its exposed throat.
Blood flooded his mouth.
It shrieked, thrashing wildly—
He ripped.
The body fell limp.
More were coming.
Kael'thir's tail lashed, his claws flexing as he met the pack head-on.
They were faster.
They were stronger.
They had more numbers.
But he was a dragon.
And dragons did not lose.
By the time it was over, the ravine was silent.
Kael'thir stood over the fallen raptors, his breath slow, measured.
Blood coated his fangs. His claws. The ground beneath him.
His limbs burned, his body aching with exhaustion.
But he had won.
His crimson eyes flickered to the corpses surrounding him.
His tail flicked once.
Then he devoured.
The mana rushed into him.
Stronger than before.
Hotter. Heavier.
His core expanded, his veins burned, stretched, reshaped.
It hurt.
But he endured.
Because pain was growth.
And he was not done growing.
The ache in his wings deepened.
His tail felt heavier.
His claws tingled.
His instincts whispered—soon.
Not yet.
But soon.
Kael'thir lifted his head, blood still dripping from his fangs.
The fox had not moved.
She had watched everything.
She had seen him kill them all.
And she was still here.
Still following.
Still waiting.
Kael'thir did not know why.
But he was beginning to care less.
She was not stopping him.
She was not prey.
So she could stay.
For now.
His gaze turned toward the horizon.
The world was still too small.
But it was getting bigger.
And Kael'thir was going to devour all of it.