Kairo's attention had fractured.
The hound behind the line, the near-breach, Renn's staggered footing — his mind had pulled away from the front for just a moment.
One moment.
That was all it took.
A sharp crack split the air.
Garth's axe came down hard — a full overhead swing aimed at the Alpha's skull. Clean. Committed. The kind of blow that ended things.
The Alpha didn't take it.
Its body blurred.
A skill. Fast. Deliberate. It vanished from Garth's strike path in an instant and reappeared behind him, low and already moving — claws raking across Garth's back in a single vicious slash.
The sound was awful.
Garth screamed.
Not a battle cry. Not a roar. A raw, genuine scream as the impact drove him forward off his feet. He hit the ground hard, axe skidding from his grip, dust erupting around him as his body bounced once against the cracked stone.
Silence rippled through the formation.
Kairo's eyes snapped back to the front.
"No—!"
The word left him before he could stop it. Unguarded. Unstrategic. Just instinct — sharp and uncharacteristic — as he stepped forward.
Behind him, a hound lunged from the side — straight toward Renn, jaws wide.
Shiri was already moving.
His body turned and threw itself into the beast's path, shoulder taking the full impact with a grunt, scales grinding as he shoved the creature sideways and slammed it hard into the rubble wall. It collapsed, dazed. Renn stumbled back, breathing fast, violin clutched tight.
"I'm fine—" Renn said, though his voice shook.
Kairo didn't respond.
His eyes hadn't moved from Garth.
Kairo's eyes narrowed.
He activated Command Nexus quietly, gaze fixed on the Alpha's position.
The panel flickered open.
[ SKILL IDENTIFIED — ENEMY UNIT: SHACKLED HOUND: ALPHA ]
[ SKILL NAME: DASH — TIER UNCONFIRMED ]
[ ANALYSIS: INSTANTANEOUS REPOSITIONING. SHORT RANGE. HIGH SPEED. ]
He stared at it.
Dash.
The same skill as Theo.
He had watched Theo use it dozens of times — knew its range, its timing, the half-second window before it activated. If the Alpha's version worked on the same principles...
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
This wasn't going to be simple.
The dust settled slowly.
Garth lay face-down against the stone.
His back burned. Deep lines crossed his shoulders — not shallow grazes. Real damage. The kind that stiffened with every breath and screamed louder the moment you tried to ignore it. Blood soaked through his skin in wide, dark patches.
He didn't move.
For a long moment — he didn't move.
Then his fingers twitched.
His hand pressed flat against the ground.
Slowly — agonizingly — he pushed himself up. One arm first, then the other. He got to a knee, head hanging, jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. His breath came out ragged and uneven, each inhale dragging fire across his back.
He stayed there.
On one knee.
Eyes down.
Then he raised his head.
He... was smiling.
The Alpha stood watching him from a distance, still and composed, like it had all the time in the world. Like he was already finished.
Something shifted in Garth's expression.
Not frustration. Not fear.
Just a slow, wide grin — the kind that had no business being on the face of a man bleeding into the dirt. The kind that came from someone who had been searching for exactly this, and had finally, finally found it.
He let out a slow breath.
"...Quiet tough, aren't ya." He muttered it low, more to himself than anyone. "You mutt."
He reached out and grabbed his axe off the ground. The weight pulled at his shoulder. He let it. He stood up fully, rolled his neck once, and wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand — a single, unhurried swipe.
He looked down at the smear on his knuckles.
Then back up at the Alpha.
"But this little scratch…" A corner of his mouth pulled up. "...won't stop me."
He exhaled once — and charged.
He came in fast and low, closing distance before the Alpha could reset, axe already swinging in a tight horizontal arc aimed at its legs. The Alpha leapt back — barely — and Garth followed without pause, driving forward with Iron Lunge, his full weight behind the thrust.
The blade grazed the creature's flank.
Not deep enough.
The Alpha retaliated instantly — a sweeping paw that caught Garth across the chest and launched him sideways. He hit the ground rolling, tucked his head, and came back up already turning.
He gave it nothing to read.
Feint left. Cut right. Bone Grapple — fragments of hardened bone snapping outward and latching onto the Alpha's foreleg, yanking its step off balance. Garth was already inside its guard, axe swinging upward in a brutal short arc toward its jaw.
The Alpha twisted, taking the hit on its shoulder instead of its face.
A snarl tore from its throat.
Blood — real blood — ran down its leg.
Garth pressed. No breathing room. No distance. He knew the moment he gave the Alpha space it would reset and come at him harder. So he stayed close — too close, dangerously close — working with short, explosive strikes, constantly shifting angle, never letting it settle.
Savage Charge — his shoulder crashing into the beast's side, driving it a full step back.
Axe Mastery — a controlled overhead that carved into the Alpha's other shoulder, deep and grinding.
He was landing hits now. Real ones. The Alpha was bleeding from three separate wounds, its movements growing slightly less fluid.
But it was adapting.
It stopped meeting him straight. Instead it circled, patient, letting Garth overcommit — then exploding into him the moment his weight shifted forward. A massive body slam caught Garth mid-swing, sending him airborne. He crashed into a crumbling wall, stone cracking against his shoulder, and dropped.
He pushed off the rubble immediately.
The Alpha charged. Low and fast.
Garth set his feet, raised his axe — caught the beast's lunge on the flat of the blade, redirecting rather than blocking, using its own momentum to drag it sideways. But the sheer size of it overwhelmed the technique. The impact still sent him skidding back, heels tearing trenches in the dirt.
He held.
Barely.
His arms trembled. His back screamed. Every breath came with a dull throb now.
But he held.
He didn't see the stone until it was too late.
Garth's heel caught the edge of a broken slab mid-step, and his balance broke. He went down hard — the back of his head slamming against stone with a crack that sent white light across his vision.
The world blurred.
He blinked. Tried to move.
His arms weren't listening yet.
The Alpha moved immediately.
It closed the distance in two strides and lunged — front legs coming down heavy on either side of him, jaws lowering, eyes locked on his throat. It had him pinned. Trapped. Nowhere to go.
Garth's vision swam.
Then — impact.
Something hit, but not Garth. The alpha was hit from the side.
Hard.
The creature was shoved off him, stumbling sideways with a surprised snarl, claws scrabbling for footing. It turned, confused, looking for the source.
It found a boar.
Broad-shouldered, thick-necked, scarred across the snout — standing just slightly below Garth's own height and staring up at the Alpha with the kind of calm that only came from either great confidence or complete stupidity.
The Alpha stared at it.
The boar snorted.
Garth sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head with a grimace. "...Damn rock." He winced, fingers finding the sore spot. Then he looked at the boar and exhaled through his nose. "Ham."
The boar glanced back at him.
Garth pushed himself upright, walked over, and gave it a firm pat on the side. "Good timing."
Ham snorted again — low and unimpressed.
"Yeah, yeah." Garth waved a hand. "I know the name isn't intimidating. I like it anyway, so drop it."
He grabbed the boar's flank and hauled himself up onto its back, axe resting across his thighs. He settled his weight, cracked his neck left, then right — and looked up at the Alpha, which had gone still again, watching him with those deep, ancient eyes.
Garth grinned.
"Ready for round two?"
To be continued....