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### **
The beast lunged, its massive jaws snapping inches from Kael's face. He rolled to the side, the ground beneath him slick with mud and blood. The creature—a hulking, wolf-like monstrosity with fur as black as midnight and eyes that glowed like embers—let out a guttural snarl, its claws tearing into the earth where Kael had just been.
Kael's breath came in ragged gasps as he scrambled to his feet, his sword gripped tightly in his hand. The beast circled him, its movements fluid and predatory, its growl reverberating through the dense forest. The air was thick with the stench of rot and wet fur, and the trees seemed to close in around them, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky.
"Come on, then," Kael muttered, his voice low and steady. He adjusted his grip on the sword, his eyes never leaving the beast. "Let's finish this."
The creature charged again, its powerful muscles propelling it forward with terrifying speed. Kael stood his ground, waiting until the last possible moment before sidestepping and bringing his sword down in a sweeping arc. The blade bit deep into the beast's flank, drawing a howl of pain. But the creature was far from defeated. It twisted around, its claws slashing through the air, and Kael barely managed to raise his arm in time to block the blow. The impact sent him sprawling, his sword slipping from his grasp.
He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. The beast loomed over him, its hot breath washing over his face, its eyes burning with a primal hunger. Kael's hand scrambled for his sword, his fingers brushing against the hilt just as the beast lunged again.
This time, he was ready.
With a roar of his own, Kael thrust the blade upward, driving it into the beast's throat. The creature let out a strangled cry, its body convulsing as it collapsed on top of him. Kael pushed it aside, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The beast lay still, its lifeless eyes staring up at the canopy of trees.
Kael wiped the blood from his face and stood, his legs trembling beneath him. He looked down at the creature, a pang of something—regret? pity?—flashing through him. It was just another obstacle, another step on the path he had chosen. But it was also a reminder of how far he had come—and how far he still had to go.
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### **Flashback: The Eternal Gate**
The air was thick with the scent of iron and ash, a metallic tang that clung to the back of Kael's throat as he stepped into the shadow of the Eternal Gate. It loomed before him, a towering monolith of obsidian stone, its surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly with a golden light. The gate stood at the edge of a vast, desolate plain, where the ground cracked like dried parchment and the sky churned with clouds the color of bruised flesh.
Kael's boots crunched against the brittle earth as he approached, his heart pounding in time with the rhythmic thrum of the gate's energy. He could feel it in his bones—a low, resonant hum that seemed to echo the ache in his chest. The ache that had never left him, not since the day she was taken.
*"One thousand battles,"* the Gatekeeper had said. *"One thousand victories. Only then will the Eternal Gate open for you."*
The words played in his mind like a mantra, a cruel reminder of the task ahead. One thousand battles. One thousand opponents. And not a single loss could be afforded. Kael clenched his fists, his calloused fingers brushing against the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. It was a simple blade, worn from years of use, but it had carried him this far. It would have to carry him further still.
"Kael of the Broken Vale," a voice boomed, shattering the silence. It was deep and resonant, as if the earth itself had spoken. "You seek passage through the Eternal Gate?"
Kael looked up, his gaze locking onto the source of the voice. A figure emerged from the gate's shadow, tall and imposing, clad in armor that shimmered like liquid silver. The Gatekeeper. His face was obscured by a helmet shaped like a snarling beast, but his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light.
"I do," Kael replied, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "I seek my wife."
The Gatekeeper tilted his head, as if considering the man before him. "Many have come before you," he said. "Few have succeeded. The path is not for the weak of heart or body. Are you prepared to face what lies ahead?"
Kael's jaw tightened. He thought of her—her laughter, her smile, the way her eyes had lit up when she looked at him. He thought of the day she had vanished, leaving behind only a single note: *"Wait for me beyond the gate."*
"I am," Kael said, his voice firm.
The Gatekeeper nodded. "Then let the trials begin."
With a wave of his hand, the runes on the gate flared to life, their golden light intensifying until it was almost blinding. Kael shielded his eyes, but the light seemed to pierce through his very soul. When it faded, the plain was no longer empty.
Before him stood his first opponent.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his body encased in armor forged from blackened steel. In his hands, he wielded a massive warhammer, its head crackling with arcs of blue lightning. His face was hidden behind a visor, but his voice carried across the distance between them.
"I am Garrick," the man said, his tone devoid of emotion. "Your first trial."
Kael drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light. His heart raced, but his mind was calm. This was it. The first step on a path that would either lead him to her or destroy him.
Garrick charged, his warhammer raised high. The ground shook with each step, and the air crackled with energy. Kael braced himself, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.
The battle had begun.
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