The night was thick with tension. The dense forest, bathed in silver moonlight, whispered with the rustling of leaves as a low growl rumbled through the air. The Midnight Howler Ape, a monstrous beast covered in thick, dark fur, stood at the heart of the clearing. It loomed nearly ten feet tall, its broad shoulders flexing as it bared razor-sharp fangs, its crimson eyes glowing with primal rage.
Before it, a lone young man in a black robe stood, his silver sword gleaming in the dim light. His hood concealed most of his features, but his stance was calm, unwavering—completely unfazed by the terrifying beast before him.
A gust of wind howled through the trees. The beast pounded its chest with its massive fists, shaking the earth beneath them. Then, with a guttural roar, it lunged forward.
Young Warrior didn't move.
The ape's colossal fist came crashing down—a strike powerful enough to shatter boulders. But just as it was about to connect—
Young Warrior vanished.
With a blur of motion, he sidestepped at the last moment, the force of the beast's punch exploding the ground where he had stood.
"Slow."
A glint of silver.
Young Warrior's voice was barely a whisper as he stepped in, his sword tracing a deadly arc through the air.
"Void Edge—First Strike."
A sharp, precise slash tore across the ape's massive chest, a deep gash opening from shoulder to ribs. The beast howled, staggering back, its hot blood spraying onto the forest floor.
Young Warrior exhaled, adjusting his grip. His hands trembled slightly.
"My body still isn't strong enough to use more than three strikes."
The Midnight Howler Ape roared in fury; its breath ragged. Then, its muscles bulged unnaturally, veins glowing a faint red. It wasn't backing down. Instead, it charged.
With terrifying speed for its size, the beast closed the distance, its massive arms swinging wildly. Each strike carried the force to pulverize bones.
Young Warrior weaved through the attacks; his movements seamless. He ducked beneath a crushing blow, barely missing the gust of wind it created. He sidestepped another—only for the ape to spin on its heel and slam its elbow into his shoulder.
CRACK!
Pain erupted in Young Warrior left shoulder as he was sent skidding backward, his boots digging trenches into the dirt. His arm throbbed, but his expression remained cold.
The beast grinned—an animalistic sneer of triumph.
But Young Warrior simply took a deep breath. "Not bad."
Blood dripped from his lips as he adjusted his stance. He only had two more strikes left before his body would give out.
"Void Edge—Second Strike."
With a burst of movement, Young Warrior closed the gap instantly. His sword shimmered as it cut diagonally—slicing through the ape's right arm.
A deafening scream tore through the forest as the beast staggered back, clutching its severed limb.
Its fury reached a breaking point.
"GRAAAAAAHHH!"
Abandoning all defense, the Midnight Howler Ape leapt at him, mouth open, fangs bared—intent on tearing him apart.
Young Warrior exhaled, lifting his sword.
"Void Edge—Third Strike."
In a single, fluid motion—his blade flashed.
A silver arc shimmered beneath the moonlight.
For a moment, everything stood still.
Then—
SCHLICK!
A clean, deep line appeared down the center of the ape's massive chest. Its glowing red eyes dimmed, and its massive body froze mid-air.
Then, like a felled tree, the beast split into two clean halves, crashing onto the forest floor with a sickening thud.
A thick pool of dark blood spread beneath Orion's feet. The scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the cold night breeze.
Silence.
The forest—once alive with the roars of battle—had fallen into a deathly stillness.
Orion flicked the blood from his blade with a single movement, exhaled, adjusting the hood of his robe. As he did, a few strands of his bluish-white hair slipped free, catching the moonlight. His piercing blue eyes—sharp and elegant—studied the corpse before him. "Took me too long," he muttered. Yes the young warrior is none other then – Orion Vale.
His left shoulder ached painfully, the force of the ape's punch leaving it dislocated. With a sharp grunt, he rotated it back into place with a sickening pop.
Reaching into his pouch, he retrieved an Emerald Vitality Pill—a small, vibrant green pill infused with life energy. Popping it into his mouth, he closed his eyes.
Almost immediately, a soft emerald glow pulsed over his skin, and his wounds began to mend.
A refreshing sensation spread through his body.
"Not bad at this level," he murmured, flexing his fingers as the pain faded. "But I need more of these."
Lifting his head, his blue eyes drifted toward the moon. A tired sigh escaped his lips.
"I still have a long way to go."
With that, he turned and vanished into the darkness.
Orion moved silently through the outskirts of the forest, his footsteps light against the soft earth. Soon, the towering walls of Valeric City came into view, and when he enter city he noticed Valeric City was alive with energy, even in the dead of night.
Magical lamps lined the streets, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling night market. Merchants called out their wares, their voices blending into a harmonious chaos. The air smelled of roasted meats, spiced wine, and freshly baked bread.
Orion walked through the crowded streets, his hood pulled low, blending into the shadows.
"No matter how many times I see it, the night market is always the best," he thought.
He was lost in thought when—
BUMP.
His shoulder collided with another cloaked figure.
The man in black robes turned slightly, his face hidden beneath his hood. He stared at Orion for a brief moment before bowing slightly and walking away.
Orion narrowed his eyes. Something about the man felt… off.
Then, his gaze shifted downward.
A small sealed letter lay at his feet. He thinks maybe this letter from that figure who bumped sometimes ago to him. Bending down, Orion picked it up. His fingers brushed against the golden lion emblem sealing it shut.
His expression darkened.
"The Lion Seal…? That belongs to Viscount Lionheart's family. Why would a letter from them be here?"
Carefully, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. His sharp eyes scanned the contents—
"Night is about to fall, time to eat dinner."
Orion's breath stilled.
This… was a coded message.
In his past life, his father as a emperor had used similar cryptic letters to issue orders to trusted subordinates. They were written in a way that, if letter by chances intercepted, would seem like nonsense. But to those who understood, the meaning was clear.
A sense of unease coiled in his chest.
"What is Viscount Lionheart planning?" he murmured.
He considered tracking down the robed figure, but after a moment's thought, he shook his head. It was best to observe first, Orion's expression turned cold. He needed to be careful.
He resumed his walk, weaving through the city like a shadow.
After some walk The Vale Mansion come in his view and the mansion was heavily guarded, but Orion knew its weak spots.
Slipping past the patrols, he scaled the outer walls with practiced ease, disappearing into the darkness.
Once inside, he changed into simple nightwear, his body still tingling with exhaustion.
"My strength is growing, but my fights still take too long to come back on track."
His mind replayed the battle—the weaknesses in his form, the inefficiencies in his strikes.
Letting out a deep breath, he laid down on his bed. Within moments, sleep overtook him.
And as the night deepened, the sealed letter remained hidden in his robes—its secrets waiting to be uncovered.
--------
Meanwhile, the hooded figure arrived before a dimly lit tavern.
He entered, the air thick with the scent of beer and smoke. Inside, men and women laughed and drank, their conversations blending into a low hum.
Behind the counter, a bartender with a friendly smile greeted him. "What would you like to order, sir?"
The hooded figure's voice was rough. "A drink loved by lions."
The bartender's smile remained, but a subtle shift passed through his expression. He wiped the counter slowly before responding, "Sir, please follow me. I'll take you to where that drink is served best."
The hooded figure nodded and followed.
The bartender led him to a silent corner of the tavern, where he pressed against the wall. A low click sounded, and a hidden staircase revealed itself.
"Sir, I hope you enjoy your drink," the bartender said with a small bow.
The hooded figure descended the staircase, entering a dimly lit secret chamber. The air was heavy with tension, the glow of magical lamps casting eerie shadows.
At the centre of the room, a man sat calmly, sipping tea. His presence radiated authority.
The hooded figure bowed. "Sir, my lord sent a letter."
He reached into his robe—only to find nothing.
His expression darkened.
The letter…
He recalled bumping into someone earlier.
"Damn it. Did I drop it?"
His hesitation was noticed immediately.
The seated man set down his tea. His calm voice carried an edge of danger. "What happened, Walton?"
The hooded figure—Walton—hesitated before responding. "Sir… the letter may have been lost."
A sharp gaze bore into him. "You fool. That was a signal letter you don't handle with care."
Walton bowed deeply. "I apologize, sir, but… it was written in code. If found, no one will understand it."
The man leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. Then, his golden eyes gleamed with something dangerous.
"So, what was the message?"
Walton swallowed hard. "My lord's orders… Time is near. Give Valeric City a big blow."
A smile crept onto the man's lips.
"Good. Then let's begin."