The pain was excruciating, an agony that seemed to tear Logan apart from the inside out. He screamed, a guttural sound echoing through the chamber, drowning out the sinister chant of the Arcane Hunters.
His body writhed involuntarily on the cold stone altar, every fiber of his being on fire. It was as if something colossal and untamable were fighting to break free from within him, a titanic force erupting from a prison that had contained it his entire life.
Kael, who previously wore a triumphant smile, now watched the scene with an expression of surprise and cruel satisfaction. The bone dagger, gleaming with sinister light, fell from his hand and clattered on the stone floor as an invisible wave of energy erupted from Logan, throwing him backward along with the hooded men around the altar.
"Yes!" Kael exclaimed, struggling to his feet, his blue eyes shining with feverish intensity. "It's working! The power is awakening! Finally!"
Logan's transformation intensified. His body trembled violently, muscles expanding and contracting beneath his skin. He could feel his bones lengthening, reshaping, a symphony of pops and creaks mingling with his own pained screams.
Sharp claws sprouted from his fingers and toes, tearing through the skin and growing at frightening speed. His nails thickened and curved, transforming into lethal weapons. Thick fur, the same color as his hair—a vibrant, intense red merle—began to sprout on his chest, back, arms, and legs, covering his skin like a wild mantle.
His face, however, remained human, albeit with frightening changes. Sharp fangs erupted from his gums, long and powerful, but not enough to prevent him from still looking human. His ears became pointed and perked up, catching every sound in the cavern with unnerving clarity. He could hear Kael's racing heart, the Hunters' ragged breathing, the rustle of robes—everything amplified, intense. His vision adapted to the dim light, allowing him to see clearly in the dark.
In his mind, visions overlaid reality. Images of a colossal wolf, with immense fangs and blazing golden eyes, fighting nightmarish creatures in desolate landscapes. He saw vast forests consumed by flames, mountains crumbling under the force of gigantic paws, the very sky splitting apart with a deafening howl.
They were memories, not his own, but of something ancient, something primordial, something now awakening within him: Fenrir.
The transformation spread through every inch of his body, an indescribable agony, yet accompanied by a sensation of exponentially growing power, a raw, untamable strength, filling him with a blind, uncontrollable fury.
Logan's awakening reverberated across the continent, as if the land itself were reacting to the release of an ancestral power.
***
In a distant mountain range, the Ancestral Dragon, Ignis, father of all dragons, opened one of his golden eyes upon feeling the disturbance. A low growl escaped his throat.
"Fenrir…" he rumbled, his voice like the grinding of tectonic plates. "It has been long... Still a cub, yet disturbing my rest. So be it." And went back to sleep.
***
In the heart of Sky Reaper, the Ancestral Qilin interrupted its meditation, sensing the wave of energy. "The heir of Fenrir has awakened," it said, its voice a melodious whisper. "Before his time. A dark omen, or hope?"
***
In a distant tower, the Headmaster of the Aldaria Academy of Magic, Kassius Ironheart, felt the tremor and frowned.
"An Arcane Beast…" he murmured, rushing to the window and looking towards Sky Reaper. "But which one? And why now?"
He turned and began giving orders to a messenger owl. "Notify the Council. Gather the teachers. Prepare the students. And send a message to Sky Reaper, to King Rogan. Tell him the Academy stands ready to assist, if needed."
***
In the throne room of Sky Reaper, Gália felt Logan's energy wave and clutched her chest. "It's him," she whispered. "It's my son. He… he has awakened."
Magnus, beside her, nodded, his face tense. "The power of an Arcane Beast…" he murmured. "Your Majesty, prepare yourself. The battle has begun."
Gália nodded, a determined look settling onto her features. "I know," she said. "And I will be ready. No one will hurt my son again."
***
Back in the Hunters' lair, Logan's transformation completed. He was now an imposing figure, a hybrid of man and wolf. His muscles stood out beneath skin now covered in red merle fur, the same vibrant color as his hair.
Sharp, long, curved claws extended from his fingers and toes. Protruding fangs jutted from his mouth, but his face still retained its human shape. His eyes, previously amber, now glowed with an intense golden light, the same light as Fenrir's eyes.
Behind him, a translucent, colossal image of Fenrir formed, as if the spirit of the Arcane Beast itself were present, echoing Logan's movements. Together, Logan and the projection of Fenrir raised their heads and let out a deafening howl, a primal sound, laden with power and fury, that made the entire cave tremble.
The howl reverberated throughout Sky Reaper, and beyond, across the continent, like a war cry, a challenge, a harbinger of change.
Kael, watching everything with a mixture of fascination and terror, felt a shiver run down his spine. For the first time in a long time, he felt fear. A primal, instinctive fear that made him recoil from the creature rising before him. The sight of Logan, with the phantasmal image of Fenrir behind him, was terrifying and, at the same time, hypnotic.
"Su… success," Kael stammered, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. "The ritual worked. Fenrir's power is now… accessible." But the truth was, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. The situation had spun out of control. The power he had awakened was far greater than he had ever imagined, and the creature before him was not a frightened boy, but a predator, a force of nature.
This realization didn't leave him afraid; quite the contrary, it made him furious. How could he, one of the continent's Arcane Hunter leaders, be wrong? How dare he feel fear of a brat?
"You damned monster!" Kael shouted, his voice thick with hatred. "Do you think you can defy me? I control your destiny now!"
Logan/Fenrir, as if responding to the challenge, took a step towards Kael, a low, guttural growl escaping his throat. The image of Fenrir behind him echoed the movement, and the chamber seemed to tremble with the threat implicit in their stance.
Kael, sensing the imminent danger, didn't retreat as before. Rage and determination took hold of him; he would not cower. "I'll finish you, brat!" he yelled, and lunged towards Logan, bone dagger in hand, ready to strike.
But before he could reach him, the cave ceiling above them suddenly burst open with a deafening roar. Rocks and debris flew everywhere, and a blinding light flooded the area.
Kael looked up, surprised, and saw a figure floating in the air, holding a sword blazing with golden flames. The heat was intense, and Kael could smell burning in the air, as if lightning had struck.
The cave walls, at the point where the figure had entered, were molten and smoking, as if sliced by a colossal, incandescent blade. He realized the mansion and part of the floating island had been cut in half as if made of butter.
In a swift movement, Arthur Ironheart appeared beside Kael, delivering a powerful punch that sent him flying, crashing into the cave wall.
The figure in the air descended slowly to the altar, revealing himself as King Rogan, his golden eyes blazing with divine fury. He looked at Logan, who lay collapsed on the floor, unconscious, reverting to his human form. The transformation had reversed, but its signs were still visible: the fur slowly receding, claws retracting, fangs shrinking.
Arthur approached Rogan, his expression worried. "My King, how is the Prince?" he asked.
Rogan knelt beside Logan and gently brushed his face, relieved to feel his breath, faint but steady. "Whatever they did caused a forced awakening, before the right age, but he's alive," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
A noise drew their attention. Kael, stunned but still alive, was rising from the rubble, his face twisted into a mask of hatred.
Kael spat blood onto the floor and gave a hoarse laugh. "You're strong, Ironheart," he said with difficulty. "But not strong enough to kill me."
Rogan stood up, carrying Logan in his arms, and looked at Kael with icy contempt. "You made a terrible mistake, Kael," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You messed with my family. And now, you will pay the price."
Golden flames began to dance around Rogan, enveloping his body like an incandescent shroud. The heat intensified, and the surrounding air began to vibrate with the King's power.
"I will kill you," said Rogan, his voice echoing through the cave like thunder. "And then, I will kill every single Arcane Hunter until none are left to tell the tale. You declared war on my family, and I will show you what it means to face the fury of a King, and the fury of a father."
Rogan, enveloped in golden flames, faced Kael with divine fury, promising terrible retribution.
The battle is about to restart, and everyone's fate is more uncertain than ever. The heir had awakened, and a storm of epic proportions was approaching.