THE AETHERBORN

Thorne ran like a madman through the glowing wilds.

Branches whipped past him. Leaves, fat with moisture and humming with dormant magic, slapped his face and arms, but he didn't slow down. His boots crunched strange mushrooms that pulsed faintly underfoot. Aether motes zipped around him, drawn like moths to flame. They clung to his trail, chittering in invisible voices, caught up in his momentum.

He was chasing the sound of a roar.

And not just any roar. This one had depth, presence, like a living earthquake. It had clawed its way into the back of his mind and refused to let go. His heart thudded in rhythm with it, his blood felt hotter, thicker, as if answering an ancient call.

Every step felt like flying. He vaulted a root, slid under a low-slung vine, and emerged into a clearing only to keep sprinting, breath ragged but smiling like a lunatic.

Somewhere ahead was something alive, something big and powerful, likely too dangerous for anyone sane to approach.

Thorne was thrilled.

"Come on..." he whispered between gasps. "Don't fizzle out on me now."

The deeper he ran, the stranger the forest became.

Massive trees with crystalline bark loomed like sleeping giants, their trunks wider than towers. Their roots cracked the ground like buried bones. Creatures scurried just out of sight, fox-like things with gemstone eyes, dragonflies the size of dinner plates with wings that shimmered in neon colors, and once, a strange three-eyed rodent that blinked into thin air when it saw him.

Every creature seemed… evolved, like nature had been tampered with. Not in a manmade way, but in a way that said too much aether, too long exposed. These were beasts shaped not just by instinct and tooth, but by magic itself. They radiated power, like walking spells. Aether Beasts, that's what they were. Each one likely higher level than anything Thorne had fought in the Arena.

And he didn't care.

He was chasing something stronger.

Until the forest stopped him.

Not with vines. Not with terrain.

With force.

Something hit him from the side, a blur of black muscle and rage that erupted from a copse of trees. One moment he was mid-stride, the next he was flying, his body ragdolling through the air, then crashing hard into a moss-slicked boulder.

Thorne rolled, coughed, and came up on one knee, wand already in his hand.

The ambient aether surged around him instinctively, waiting.

"What the..."

A sound, like knuckles cracking.

The thing emerged from the shadows on all fours.

It was massive.

Built like a gorilla, but wrong. Primitive, sure, but sharper, more monstrous. Its arms were too long, dragging clawed knuckles that left grooves in the stone. Thick, matted hair covered most of its body, but where skin showed, it shimmered with faint aetheric vessels, like ancient tattoos burned into flesh. Its shoulders were hunched, plated in natural armor. Its face was a mix of beast and mask, flat nose, heavy brow, fangs that didn't fit its jaw.

Its eyes glowed like molten gold, locked on him.

[Feral Grallok – Level 97]

His Veil Sense popped for a split second before blinking out again, as if even the ability was unsure whether to warn or weep.

"Well," Thorne muttered, "you're definitely not the one who roared."

The Grallok growled. A low, reverberating sound that shook the trees. Then it beat its chest, an explosion of sound that made nearby birds scatter in panic.

Its claws dug into the earth.

And then it charged.

Thorne inhaled once, drawing the aether close.

This forest is going to kill me, he thought, a crooked smile forming on his lips. And I might just enjoy it.

The Grallok lunged with terrifying speed.

Thorne barely managed to twist aside, Ashthorn coming up in a blur. He thrust the wand forward, pouring aether into its core. The weapon responded like a predator unchained, pulsing with raw power as a blast of focused force erupted from its tip.

The energy slammed into the creature's side, sending a shockwave that cracked nearby branches and kicked up a ring of dust and glowing pollen.

But the Grallok didn't even stumble.

It turned its head slowly, revealing a scorched patch of fur and a faint burn trailing along its flank. Nothing more.

"Oh, come on," Thorne muttered.

The creature bared its fangs.

It leapt.

Thorne braced, Ashthorn flicking again, another burst, this time more focused. The beam hit the Grallok square in the chest… but the beast just kept coming.

The fist hit like a falling boulder.

Thorne's world spun. He was airborne before he even realized it, crashing into the trunk of a massive tree. The impact knocked the wind out of him and splintered bark in every direction. He slumped to the ground, dazed, gasping.

[-74 HP]

He blinked past the pain.

Another growl. The sound of pounding knuckles against soil. A shadow loomed.

Move, dammit.

His instincts surged and his Deadzone Reflex activated.

Time seemed to slow. The beast's second punch arced through the air like a wrecking ball.

Thorne twisted sideways, sliding under it with impossible precision. The air cracked above him where the fist passed. His body was already spinning, feet sliding on the moss-slick ground as he pushed himself up and away.

His lungs burned. His ribs throbbed. But he wasn't done.

He leapt, and the world tilted. His Windborne Agility skill taking effect.

His body felt weightless, as if wind had taken hold of his limbs. He arced backward, flipping high into the canopy. He twisted midair, narrowly dodging a boulder the Grallok hurled after him, and landed lightly on a thick branch.

Thorne crouched.

His heart thundered.

His HP bar blinked dangerously. He could already feel his ribs bruising, maybe cracked. His arm shook, but Ashthorn remained steady in his grip.

The Grallok roared, pounding the earth beneath, eyes glowing brighter now. It was angry.

And it was learning.

Thorne wiped blood from his mouth and smiled.

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It wasn't joy. It wasn't arrogance.

It was liberation.

"This is what you want, huh?" he said aloud, his voice ragged. "Fine. Then let's see what happens when I stop holding back."

The aether responded. Eagerly.

It swarmed to him from the trees, from the sky, from the roots buried deep beneath the forest floor. He didn't even call, it came to him on instinct. Like he was the storm they had waited for.

He dropped from the branch, twisting in midair.

Ashthorn spun with him, trailing motes of power like fireflies caught in a hurricane. The Grallok raised both fists.

And Thorne struck first.

He didn't need a formal spell. Not yet.

He wove aether mid-fall, shaping it like a whip.

The lash cracked through the air and coiled around the Grallok's shoulder, biting deep. The beast howled, its first sound of pain.

Thorne landed, rolling smoothly, his agility making him glide across the clearing. The moment he was up, he snapped his fingers, detonating the aether lash mid-wrap. A burst of pale-blue fire ripped through the beast's arm. It reeled.

Thorne dashed in. Windborne Agility turned his steps into glides, his momentum into pure precision.

He ducked a wild swing, used a protruding root to leap over the Grallok's back, and lashed again, this time straight at its spine.

The aether cracked like lightning.

The beast roared and thrashed, stumbling.

But Thorne wasn't done.

He ducked beneath another massive arm and planted his palm against the creature's chest. Ashthorn pulsed in his other hand, vibrating with a hungry hum.

"Let's see how much you can really take."

He pushed.

Not raw aether. Not chaos. But focused force, the same kind that split stone and knocked over grown men during duels. A pulse burst from his palm like a miniature explosion.

The Grallok was hurled backward, crashing through a tree and toppling it in a massive thud.

Thorne didn't wait.

He slid Ashthorn back into the strap on his thigh, freeing both hands. His breath came in short, fast bursts, but his eyes glowed with renewed intensity.

"Let's see how you like this," he muttered.

The ambient aether answered.

It flooded toward him in shimmering strands, silvery-blue motes spiraling around his arms, down his chest, dancing over the blood dripping from his chin. His fingers curled, shaping the aether like wet clay, solidifying it with his will with his skill Aether Barrage.

A spike formed. Then two. Then a dozen.

Thorne hurled them.

A volley of crystalline bolts screamed through the air, each infused with biting precision. The Grallok roared, twisting mid-lurch as two of them punched through its shoulder and thigh. A third grazed its neck, releasing a burst of steaming blood.

It didn't slow down.

It charged, even with aether blades jutting from its flesh, its primal howl shaking birds loose from the canopy above.

Thorne dropped low, swept one foot behind him, and launched skyward. Windborne Agility caught him mid-jump, letting him hover for a heartbeat longer, long enough to activate his aetheric skill Aether Lance.

A single shaft of condensed aether formed in his palm. It pulsed like a beating heart. Thorne clenched his jaw, focused his will and hurled it downward.

The lance pierced the Grallok's chest with a deafening crack.

The ground exploded in a wave of dust and splinters.

But when it cleared…

The Grallok was still standing.

Blood poured from the wound. The creature swayed, one arm limp, its chest rising and falling in jagged huffs. But it snarled, its eyes glowing with a terrifying clarity now.

Then it did something Thorne hadn't expected.

It mimicked him.

Aether sparked around the beast's fists, the air rippling with power. Its shoulders bulged, veins glowing. It slammed its hands together and when it leapt again, its fists gleamed with radiant, bludgeoning aether.

"Oh, shit..."

The punch struck him dead-on.

He was launched like a ragdoll into a rock wall. His back struck first, cracking stone. He slid down, coughing, tasting blood.

HP: 730/1000

His vision danced with black spots. Pain pulsed behind his ribs, something might be cracked. He clenched his jaw and pulled himself upright.

"Fine," he hissed. "You're not the only one who can punch."

He pulled aether to his knuckles. Not fancy, not shaped. Raw. Solid. Brutal.

The next time the Grallok charged, Thorne met it head-on.

They clashed in a spray of raw force. Fist met fist. Aether flared and cracked the ground beneath their feet. Thorne ducked, twisted, drove a glowing elbow into the beast's side.

It retaliated with a spinning backhand, sending Thorne tumbling through the grass, his legs barely catching beneath him as he skidded.

HP: 540/1000.

He wiped blood from his mouth, spitting red into the moss.

Still grinning.

The beast snarled again and raised both hands, summoning a wave of pulsing aether, slamming them into the ground.

A shockwave erupted. Thorne felt it coming and jumped, letting Windborne Agility carry him above the tremor.

He landed, hard.

Another punch clipped his shoulder, spinning him.

He twisted, used the momentum to his advantage, and drove a blast of compressed aether directly into the Grallok's neck.

The beast reeled.

But not enough.

Thorne's core was starting to feel the strain, there was only so much he could unleash without pause. The momentary flicker in his output was enough. The Grallok lunged and backhanded him again, this time into a tree trunk, hard enough to crack bark and send a few branches raining down.

HP: 375/1000

He could feel it now: aches deep in the muscle, his chest tight. Ashthorn vibrated at his side as if screaming to be used.

But Thorne didn't reach for it.

This was a matter of pride.

And a strange exhilaration was crawling up his spine.

The Grallok was strong.

It was adapting.

But so was he.

"Alright, big guy," he breathed. "Let's end this."

Aether crackled around him.

And again they charged.

The Grallok roared and lunged, raising its massive, aether-imbued fist high above its head.

Time didn't slow; it snapped. Deadzone Reflex activated and Thorne's vision sharpened to crystalline clarity, every particle of light and energy stretching like threads in a loom.

He didn't think.

He moved.

His feet pivoted. He leaned forward, ducking just beneath the crushing blow. One palm slapped the ground, and with the other...

He called the storm.

Aetheric Explosion activated.

The wild aether answered like a detonation.

It rushed into him, raw, untamed, and far too eager. Thorne didn't need to shape it; he let it build, let it pressurize within him like a ticking bomb.

Then he released it all at once.

A dome of white-blue aether erupted outward from his body.

The ground trembled. Trees were uprooted in a heartbeat, their trunks snapping like twigs. The moss scorched. Earth split in jagged fractures that crackled with still-lingering energy.

The force launched the Grallok off its feet and into the air. Its huge body slammed into a rock outcrop with a bone-shaking crunch.

Thorne dropped to one knee, panting, his hands scorched and smoking from the feedback.

Ashthorn vibrated madly at his thigh, begging to be unleashed.

He looked up through the haze, sweat dripping down his chin, a vindictive smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah. How do you like that, you oversized..."

Then the dust began to settle.

And the grin died on his face.

The Grallok was still standing.

It stumbled forward, smoke rolling off its fur. Patches of its hide were blackened, skin cracked and weeping ichor. Its right eye was swollen shut, and its chest heaved like a bellows.

But its gaze was clear.

Burning.

Focused.

It bared its yellowed fangs in a silent, primal challenge.

Thorne's heart thudded in his chest.

"…Oh, crap."

That was his strongest attack. His most destructive skill. He hadn't just unleashed it, he'd supercharged it with the ambient aether saturating this forest.

And it still hadn't been enough.

The Grallok snarled and came charging, faster than it had any right to. Each step cracked the earth beneath its clawed feet.

Thorne's instincts screamed. He threw up his hands, drawing raw aether in a defensive spiral.

A crude barrier formed mid-air just in time to catch the first punch.

It shattered like glass, but it slowed the beast's momentum.

He rolled under the second blow, using Windborne Agility to pivot and slide beneath the Grallok's arcing strike. Thorne leapt backwards, shaping aether into a whip-like lash and striking the beast across its already-wounded flank.

It howled, turning too fast, and Thorne darted in, aether claws forming over his knuckles.

He slashed, carving a glowing gash down its thigh.

The Grallok spun, elbowing him clean across the clearing.

Thorne flew, tumbled, rolled, gritting his teeth as bark tore at his skin and his body bounced off a tree trunk.

HP: 271/1000

He stumbled to his feet, coughing, blood staining his tongue.

His mind reeled.

He was going to lose!

The thought felt foreign, invasive.

He'd escaped purifiers.

He'd stared down beasts and nobles, manipulated gods and ghosts.

But here, here in this untouched corner of the world, he was a boy again, small before a force of nature that didn't care who he was or what titles he bore.

And yet…

A crooked smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He raised his fists, drawing the aether again, slower this time. Steady. Focused.

"If I'm going down," he muttered, "I'm taking a piece of you with me."

The Grallok roared and charged.

And Thorne braced himself for the final round.