The Fallen One

The tension in the air thickened, pressing against Raga's chest like an invisible weight. He watched Lucius, the boy's voice trembling as he called out to Lady Sia. There was desperation in that tone—raw, fearful—and it resonated far too closely with the unease that had been gnawing at Raga since they'd first stepped into this cursed stretch of forest.

Yet Lady Sia stood unshaken, unmoved. She came to a halt, her sharp gaze scanning the secluded outer path of the forest's rim. When Raga had voiced his concerns—concerns that had echoed among his squad—she dismissed them with a casual wave of her hand. Her confidence was unshakable. These lands weren't known for beasts powerful enough to kill them outright, but for ambushes. The twisting terrain and heavy underbrush made it the perfect hunting ground.

Then it happened.

In the same instant, he summoned Crimson Ultima.

His armour surged to life as the weapon materialised in his grip. Power flared around him, and he moved in tandem with her.

Then came the dark arcs.

Dozens of them, slicing through the air like rabid hounds. They shrieked as they came, heavy with concentrated mana and lethal intent. Raga barely had time to raise his sword before the first wave crashed into him. The impact jarred his arms and sent vibrations down his spine, but he held firm, redirecting the strike with a forceful parry.

To his left, Rey became a blur.

The dual-blade specialist danced through the barrage, his daggers spinning like silver streaks. He hurled them mid-motion, catching arcs out of the air with perfect precision. His movements weren't just evasive—they were surgical. Every flick of his wrist altered the path of the incoming magic, sending it veering away or harmlessly into the ground.

June, though not trained for frontline combat, moved with fluid grace. Her frame weaved through the mana arcs, slipping between them as if she could sense their trajectory before they were cast. A healer was always a target, but somehow, she remained untouched.

And then there was Sia.

Her mana exploded outward in a massive wave as she conjured a spell that dwarfed the incoming attacks. Dense, radiant, and five times the size of the dark arcs—it was the sort of overwhelming force meant to end an encounter in one blow. But she wasn't focused solely on retaliation.

She was shielding Lucius.

Shielding them all.

A heartbeat of hesitation—too many variables at once.

It cost her.

The impact hit point-blank.

A blast tore through the forest, its thunderous roar followed by a shockwave that sent Sia flying backwards. Trees shattered beneath her momentum, their trunks splintering like glass.

Raga took the brunt of the outer shockwave, his footing buckling as the force slammed into him. His armour held, but the air was forced from his lungs. The world spun, briefly dimming at the edges, but he recovered fast.

Sia's mana signature—still intact. She had survived.

Lucius was near her. That boy… Raga didn't understand how, but he was alive.

Still, the priority was his own squad.

The enemy's first assault had failed to cripple them. Thanks to Sia's last-second protection, Raga and June had escaped the worst of it. But something about the enemy's tactics felt wrong. Deliberate. Intelligent.

And then—he felt it.

A massive mana surge. Familiar. Controlled. Furious.

Dawn.

From her position, a wave of fire ignited—colossal and wild. Raga watched as she fractured the flame mid-cast, splitting it into dozens of meteor-like projectiles. They rocketed through the forest toward the attacker's last known location.

The resulting explosions lit the battlefield like a sunrise of destruction. Heat warped the air, turning trees to ash and soil to molten glass. Smoke choked the skyline. The earth itself groaned.

Then the movement.

A shadow blurred within the inferno, swift and undeterred.

The enemy had survived.

It moved between the fire, a wraith of speed and precision. Dawn's flames missed—barely—each time. It was like watching something that shouldn't exist dodge reality itself.

And then—

June.

She raised her arm high, mana crackling at her fingertips. She knew how dangerous this was.

Her voice rang out over the chaos, calm and commanding—

"Mana Zone: Herme—"

A flicker, a blur.

And suddenly, the beast stood twenty meters away.

Raga sucked in a breath. Too fast.

A hulking figure loomed before them—a Ghost bear, but something far worse.

It wasn't just a bear. It was more.

The creature stood upright, towering and monstrous. Its body resembled that of a bear, thick with layered muscle, each movement pulsing with brute power. But its legs—twisted, sinewy things—moved with a disjointed twitch, alien and wrong. They were built for speed, unnaturally so, bending and jerking like it was constantly shifting between worlds that didn't agree with its existence.

Then came the sound.

A grotesque, grating crunch as the beast twisted its claws, long, pale things more bone than keratin. It repeated the motion, deliberate and slow. The sound echoed across the battlefield: joints cracking, marrow splintering.

Silence followed.

One breathless moment. A pause before the chaos.

The Ghost bear exhaled, its breath curling visibly in the cold air.

And then—

It moved.

With a ground-shaking lunge, the creature slammed its massive limbs into the earth. The impact fractured the frozen terrain, cracks webbing outward beneath its claws. A roar burst from its throat—not just sound, but force. Mana-infused and resonant, it cracked the very air.

June's voice cut off mid-cast.

The pressure hit like a wall. Both Rey and June were thrown from their feet, their bodies slamming into the ground with brutal force. Around them, the mana itself bent, warped by the sheer intensity of the Ghost bear's presence.

They were facing a ghost bear—one of the most feared mana beasts of the northern wilds. An apex predator known not only for its raw power but for its intelligence. It didn't roam in packs. It hunted alone, and it hunted humans. Its rarity kept it just below S-rank classification, but that was meaningless now.

Because if they didn't act—if they didn't move—they were going to die.

The beast swiped its claws through the air.

Dark mana burst from the motion. Razor arcs of energy screamed toward them, slicing through trees and air alike with lethal speed.

Raga didn't hesitate.

Mana surged from his core, flowing into the edge of his longsword. The blade extended with a hiss of condensed energy, and he met the first arc with a full-bodied strike.

Impact.

The collision rattled his body to the core. His reinforced stance cracked, sliding him backwards several feet. Every muscle burned from the strain. But he held.

Then—flames.

From his left, a burst of fire surged past. Dawn had repositioned, her palm glowing with compressed mana. Fireballs launched from her hand in rapid succession, streaking across the battlefield like miniature suns. They struck the ghost bear head-on, detonating in sharp bursts of flame.

For a heartbeat, Raga dared to hope.

But the bear didn't flinch.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Didn't dodge.

Didn't even react.

It stood amidst the fire, allowing the flames to lick its hide, as if mocking their efforts.

As if it knew.

Knew they were too weak to hurt it.

A cold realisation gripped Raga's spine.

Dawn appeared beside him, her tone clipped with urgency. "That monster is toying with us. We have to retreat."

She was right.

Without Lady Sia, they didn't stand a chance.

This wasn't just a battle. It was a game of survival, and they were already losing.

The bear wasn't striking at random. It was targeting June. Using its mana force to disrupt her spellwork, destabilising the flow of her recovery magic. It understood her role.

And now, it had noticed Rey.

The moment he projected a counter mana force to cover her, the beast adjusted. It felt the interference. It thought. It adapted.

It was thinking.

That realisation was enough.

"Fall back! Use the Crimson F—"

He never finished.

The ghost bear vanished.

A flicker. A blur.

And then—it was right in front of him.

Raga barely had time to raise his blade before the creature's colossal arm swept toward him. He angled his sword defensively, throwing all his weight behind the block.

It wasn't enough.

The blow struck like a boulder.

Airborne. He was flung backwards, the world spinning in a blur of sky and snow and trees. Pain bloomed across his ribs. His armour groaned. He twisted mid-flight, struggling to regain balance.

Then—

Something caught his leg.

A sharp tug. Mana wrapped around him like a rope and yanked him off course, toward Rey's position.

June.

Her spellwork. She'd caught him midair.

He barely had time to feel relief before his eyes widened in horror.

"No! Look out!"

The bear was already moving.

It dropped onto all fours and charged—a streak of grey and death, impossibly fast for its size.

Its target was clear.

June.

A storm of dark arcs erupted from its claws, spiralling toward her in a perfectly timed barrage.

Rey acted without hesitation.

He threw himself between her and the incoming blades, twin daggers flashing. But they were too small, too few—he couldn't intercept them all.

He realised that.

So he changed.

He grabbed June and ran.

Mana surged beneath his feet, propelling him across the battlefield in a blur of motion. The ground exploded behind them as the ghost bear's attacks struck, gouging deep craters into the frozen terrain.

But Rey didn't stop.

Didn't falter.

Because the ghost bear was still coming.

And time was running out.

***

For a fleeting moment, they thought Rey would make it.

Dawn and Ragnar had committed to holding the ghost bear back while he escaped with June. The plan was sound. The beast was powerful, but Rey was fast—his agility should have guaranteed his survival.

Then the ghost bear vanished.

It didn't blink out of existence. It didn't retreat. It simply ceased to be.

Dawn's fire spell had struck true, yet instead of reeling back, the beast disappeared. The air where it had been felt heavier, distorted—as if mana itself had warped around its form.

"Mirage Stance," Ragnar realised with dread.

The others noticed, too, but realisation came a second too late.

The bear reappeared directly in front of Rey.

Before anyone could shout a warning, the beast's claws slashed forward. A wave of mana-infused force ripped through the air, a brutal arc of destruction that hurtled toward them.

Ragnar moved.

With everything he had, he threw his longsword, aiming to intercept the attack. The blade spun, carving through the air like a javelin—

But he was too late.

The slashing wave collided with Rey's twin daggers.

For a brief moment, he held firm. For a brief moment, he resisted.

Then his defences collapsed.

The attack split him into three equal pieces.

The impact was instant. His body, once whole, became fragments of a person that had fought to survive. His blood splattered across the battlefield, staining the icy terrain in an eerie crimson pattern.

June screamed.

Her legs buckled as she collapsed to her knees, hands trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Tears blurred her vision, distorting the scene into a haze of red and shifting shadows. The weight of it—the helplessness, the horror—crushed her lungs, leaving her unable to even cry out his name.

Rey had died for her. Rey had thrown her to safety, and in return, he had been torn apart.

Dawn didn't move. She couldn't.

Her mind replayed the moment on loop—his face in that last second, the instinctive push to save June, the way his body was there one moment and gone the next. She should have done something. She should have helped. But she had frozen. And now he was gone.

Ragnar's roar shattered the silence.

It was raw. A guttural explosion of grief and fury.

His cry tore through the battlefield, a thunderous echo of loss. He took a staggering step forward, muscles coiled, fists clenched—ready to charge at the beast in blind rage.

But then—

The ghost bear moved again.

It towered over them, unfazed, unfeeling. Its gleaming eyes locked onto June and Dawn. The air around it darkened as tendrils of mana coiled toward its jagged maw.

It was calculating its next move.

June was defenceless. She knelt on the bloodstained ground, lost in grief, oblivious to her impending death.

Dawn saw the attack coming—yet still, she didn't move.

The beast chose its target.

A small, glowing white sphere coalesced beneath its massive jaw, pulsating with condensed mana. The air grew frigid, breath visible in the sudden chill. The moment stretched unbearably, and then—

The beam fired.

A pure lance of Ice Mana tore through the battlefield, moving faster than the slashing arcs from before.

June realised too late.

Her breath hitched—she wouldn't be able to dodge in time.

Flames erupted before her.

Ragnar materialised in front of her, sword ablaze.

His burning blade crashed into the beam mid-flight, splitting it apart. The ice dispersed, fragments of frozen energy shattering into the air. A counterattack followed.

Flames surged.

With a single upward slash, Ragnar unleashed a flaming arc—a raw, violent force that carved through the battlefield in a near-straight line.

The ghost bear twitched, reacting immediately.

But it wasn't fast enough.

Before it could fully evade—before it could even process the attack—

Lady Sia struck.

A blur of black armour. A streak of lightning-quick motion.

Sia's shoulder smashed into the beast with terrifying force. The sheer impact sent a deep shockwave rippling outward. The bear didn't sense her coming. It took the hit head-on.

Then, Ragnar's flames reached it.

The beast ignited.

Fire raged along its face, searing its flesh. It howled—a terrible, inhuman sound that rumbled through the battlefield, filled with both rage and pain.

Sia took a step back, eyes sharp, assessing the damage. The moment she moved, her gaze locked onto Ragnar.

He was burning.

Not just his sword—his entire body.

June's breath caught in her throat.

Sia recognised this form. She had heard of it before, spoken of it in passing with Ragnar during their first discussions.

But it had been June—June, with her careful warnings, who had told her what to expect if Ragnar ever transformed.

And now, that warning was reality.

The battlefield shifted once more.

This time, it belonged to Ragnar.

"Mana Zone: The burning Swordman"

Raga was no elemental mage like his wife, Dawn. But he didn't need to be. His strength came from Crimson Ultima, a special-ranked weapon capable of summoning flames that bent to his will. The moment he activated it, his entire body was engulfed in fire, his sword burning like a beacon of destruction.

With the beast momentarily distracted by Sia, Raga seized his chance. The heat around him intensified as he propelled himself forward with an explosive burst of flames, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. The ghost bear reacted instantly, channelling the raw mana within its core. A thick barrier of ice erupted over its ice-white fur, an impenetrable curtain of frost meant to smother the flames before they could reach its flesh. The temperature in the clearing plummeted, the air so cold it stung like a blade against bare skin.

Raga's fiery strike met the icy wall with a deafening hiss, steam and embers exploding outward. The ghost bear's defenses held. The flames that had once danced freely around Raga flickered and dimmed, struggling against the sheer cold radiating from the beast.

Sia, ever the opportunist, used the moment to close in. Her blade whistled through the air, aiming for the beast's flank. The ghost bear twisted, bringing up its mana-reinforced claw to intercept. Metal clashed against raw power, a shockwave tearing through the battlefield as the two titans met head-on. Sparks erupted from the impact, and for the first time, the bear's muscles tensed—not in arrogance, but in acknowledgement.

It could not overpower her.

They exchanged blows in rapid succession, each strike precise, each counter vicious. The bear's movements were calculated, its claws slicing the air with lethal intent. Sia met every attack with expert precision, her body flowing like silk as she shifted between offence and defence.

Then, the beast lunged—its maw snapping toward her injured arm, sensing a weakness.

Sia anticipated it. Pivoting on her heel, she twisted just in time, avoiding the bite by mere inches. With the beast's head now within reach, she struck. Using the momentum of her dodge, she slammed her reinforced headgear into the side of its skull with bone-crunching force. The impact sent a ripple through the beast's massive frame, stunning it for a brief moment. Wasting no time, she followed up with a devastating punch to the same spot.

A sickening crack filled the air.

The ghost bear roared in agony, staggering backwards.

But its fury only grew. With a snarl, it reared up on its hind legs, its towering form eclipsing the battlefield. Sia's grip tightened on her weapon, prepared for the next exchange—only for Raga to reappear in a flash of fire.

He swung his blazing sword with all his might.

The blade bit deep into the beast's body. Flames surged from the wound, igniting its thick fur. The ghost bear howled in pain, thrashing violently. But instead of retreating, it retaliated.

With a monstrous swipe, it struck Raga with terrifying force.

The impact was devastating.

Raga's headgear was torn from his skull, his armour rupturing in a spray of shattered metal and blood. The sheer force of the blow sent his body colliding with the ground in a brutal crash. Blood pooled beneath him, his breath ragged, but even through the haze of pain, his grip on Crimson Ultima remained unbroken. His flames flickered, but they did not die.

The ghost bear, still seething with pain, reached down and ripped the sword from its flesh. With a vengeful growl, it tossed the weapon aside, as if discarding mere scrap metal.

But Sia was already moving.

She intercepted the beast's next strike, her blade locking against its claw in a contest of sheer strength. The ground beneath them cracked from the force, neither side giving an inch.

June, seeing Raga's battered form, rushed to his side. Her trembling hands glowed with healing magic as she worked frantically to seal his worst wounds. Dawn, her composure regained, stood nearby, her fiery gaze locked onto the beast.

She would not allow it to recover.

The sky above crackled with raw power as Dawn unleashed a barrage of spells. Blazing projectiles rained down like meteors, each one detonating upon impact. The ghost bear roared as explosions rocked around its massive form, forcing it onto the defensive. But even as its wounds slightly reopened, the beast refused to fall.

Then, the air around it shimmered.

Dawn's breath caught in her throat.

"It's using Mirage Stance!"

In an instant, the battlefield became a chaotic illusion. The ghost bear's form split into a dozen identical figures, each one moving with eerie synchronicity. Their glowing eyes flickered through the mist, making it impossible to tell which was real.

Dawn's mind raced. Fire magic alone wouldn't be enough to pinpoint the true beast. She needed something more—

Sia's voice cut through the confusion.

"Watch the ground!"

Dawn's eyes widened.

The ghost bear was heavy. Even if it could mask its presence, the real one would still leave disturbances—subtle shifts in the dirt, crushed grass, displaced debris.

Sia's sharp gaze scanned the battlefield, dissecting every movement, searching for the one illusion that didn't quite match.

Then, she found it.

"THERE!" She pointed, her voice carrying above the chaos. Her finger aimed at an unassuming patch of dirt near an ancient tree, where a faint indentation had formed—a footprint that didn't fade like the others.

Dawn didn't hesitate.

She unleashed a firestorm upon the location.

The impact was immediate. The moment her spell struck, the illusions wavered, flickering out like candle flames. A bestial screech filled the air as the real ghost bear was forcibly revealed, its form convulsing under the searing heat.

Its deception had failed.

It was now exposed.

Sia took a deep breath, mana surging through her veins as she raised her blade. The ghost bear, though wounded, was not defeated yet. With a snarl, it charged straight at her, its rage blinding.

But Sia did not move.

Her stance was firm. Her mind was clear.

The true battle was about to begin.