From behind the Clawstalker, six Fanghowls emerged—massive gray wolves with knife-like ears, curved fangs glinting like daggers, and red eyes blazing with mindless ferocity. Nearly two meters tall, their lean, muscular bodies moved with ghostly speed, coordinating like a true hunting pack under the Clawstalker's command. One Fanghowl lunged, clamping its jaws on a scout's leg, dragging him down as blood soaked the gray ash, the sickening crunch of bone echoing as its teeth tightened. The scout screamed, slashing his dagger into its muzzle, the blade cutting flesh, but the wolf only snarled, its fangs tearing another gash before Gavrin drove his spear into its back, yanking the scout from death's maw.
Three Bloodreavers slunk from the shadows—hunched, humanoid creatures nearly three meters tall, their cracked red skin like parched earth, crescent-claw nails like sickles, and wide mouths bristling with jagged teeth like deadly traps. Slower than Fanghowls, they wielded terrifying strength, each fist shaking the ground, leaving small cracks in stone. One Bloodreaver advanced, slamming a fist into Milo's shoulder, the dry snap of bone ringing out as he collapsed, groaning, blood seeping from a gash where its claws dug deep, his eyes glazing in pain and panic.
"Fight back!" Torin shouted, his trembling hands drawing Kael's improved bow, a metal-tipped arrow flying but glancing off the Clawstalker's thick fur, clattering uselessly on the ash like a futile plea. The beast roared, its black aura thickening, weaving illusions that drove a hunter to scream, fleeing blindly into a Fanghowl's jaws. Blood sprayed like a crimson fountain as its teeth sank into his neck, his body crumpling, eyes wide in final terror. The Clawstalker, fueled by youthful bloodlust, charged, its claws piercing a fleeing man, blood splattering the surrounding rocks, the crack of bones a deathly note in the silent forest.
In minutes, three were dead—one torn apart by the Clawstalker, one bitten by a Fanghowl, one crushed by a Bloodreaver's fist. Eight were gravely wounded—one lost an arm to a Bloodreaver's claws, another's gut was ripped open by Fanghowl fangs. The rest scattered, hiding in rock crevices and small caves near the stone stream. The Clawstalker didn't pursue immediately, standing amid the small battlefield, roaring in triumph, its golden eyes scanning for the next prey. The Fanghowls and Bloodreavers gathered around, their growls and footsteps echoing in the deathly air, a symphony of destruction.
Torin, leg torn by a Fanghowl's bite, gritted his teeth and crawled from the area, blood trailing in a crimson path toward the outpost. Each step stabbed his wound, but his eyes burned with survival's fire, carrying a warning of the nightmare awaiting, while nineteen others—fourteen alive, five wounded—remained trapped in crevices and caves, too terrified to move as the Clawstalker's roars and its pack's din lingered, a reminder that death was merely delayed.
Rescue Plan and Preparations
At the outpost, Seiryu knelt beside Torin, opening her small steel medical kit—containing scalpels, sutures, antiseptics, and gauze from Saigon. She injected a local anesthetic from a tiny vial, stitching the mangled bite on his leg with precise threads, her nimble hands steady but her dark eyes flickering with worry as blood soaked the white bandages. "You're lucky to be alive," she said, her voice low but firm, like a doctor accustomed to worse horrors. "But you need rest—you've lost too much blood." Torin stirred, his breaths ragged, whispering through cracked lips: "Clawstalker… not fully grown… but with Fanghowls and Bloodreavers… We had no chance… They're trapped near the eastern stream… five kilometers away…"
Raizen stood among the group, his gaze fixed on Torin, hands gripping his spear as a reminder not to let fear win. He pointed to the hide map: "Torin said near the stream, five kilometers east. As marked, it's rocky with small caves, but there's a natural deep pit by the stream. That's where we set the main trap."
His voice, low but fierce, dissected the enemy like a commander seeking weaknesses: "This Clawstalker's young but still the forest's king. It's fast, strong, creates illusions to break minds, and controls other Duskborn—Fanghowls with quick, curved fangs, Bloodreavers slow but crushing like hammers. We're not just facing it, but a pack of beasts. A direct assault is suicide—we need to lure the Clawstalker into the pit trap, use secondary traps and Kael's new weapons to slow it and its pack, then rescue the trapped before it tracks us here."
Kael stepped forward, clutching the Asvaria fragment, his pale blue eyes alight like a scientist finding a solution in crisis. "Yes! That pit! Not deep enough to kill it, even a juvenile, but enough to hold it with more spikes. For the Fanghowls and Bloodreavers, we need more than yesterday's bows." He turned to the nearby pile of dry wood and scrap metal, a rare spark of excitement in his eyes. "I'll build a repeating crossbow—based on ancient designs but upgraded with metal and vine roots. It'll fire continuously, piercing their thick hides, enough to panic them!"
Selena tilted her head, brow furrowed, hand on hip with skeptical curiosity: "Repeating crossbow? Sounds nice, but how do you make it from this junk in hours?" She gestured to the wood and metal, her fiery red eye flashing a challenge.
Kael gave a faint smile, rare amid the tension, his voice brimming with confidence: "Simple. Dry forest wood is tough enough for the crossbow's body and stock—I'll carve it now. Soaked vine roots, braided tight, make the bowstring—not as elastic as rubber, but taut enough for power. I'll shape this metal into a bolt magazine, using a curved steel spring from the rubble for a basic mechanism. Each pull feeds a bolt—five shots without reloading. Bolts from small branches, tipped with sharpened metal—enough to pierce Fanghowl hides and bother the Clawstalker!" He grabbed a wood piece, carving with a small knife, his movements swift like an engineer reborn.
Raizen nodded, his strategic mind forming the plan like a chessboard. "How long?" he asked, his voice low but sharp, a commander allowing no errors.
Kael stroked his chin, calculating: "With my speed and village help, one hour here, thirty minutes to finish traps on-site. We need two spike traps—one near the pit for the Clawstalker, one in open terrain twenty meters away for Fanghowls and Bloodreavers. Simple traps: sharpened stakes in the ground, covered with leaves, tied with vine ropes to trigger when stepped on."
Selena stepped closer to Raizen, gripping her sword hilt, a faint smile curling her lips: "You and I lure the Clawstalker. I'm fast, you're tough—we zigzag, throw rocks, light torches to disorient it. But the pack?"
Raizen answered instantly, eyes locked on hers, pointing to the map: "Kael shoots Fanghowls and Bloodreavers from range with the crossbow, panicking them into the second spike trap, which we'll position based on terrain when we arrive. Seiryu, you rescue the wounded, but watch for the Clawstalker's illusions—if your mind wavers, shout, and we'll pull you out."
Seiryu stood, snapping her medical kit shut with a dry click, her dark eyes cold but resolute: "I'll manage. I've seen enough horrors in Saigon to resist mind games. But I need cover while bandaging—if a Fanghowl charges, this knife won't hold." She raised her scalpel, its steel glinting in the firelight, a vow she'd face anything, though Raizen's image falling under Clawstalker claws haunted her.
Raizen nodded, his gaze sweeping the group, his voice low but resonant, a rallying cry: "Here's the plan: Kael starts the crossbow now, using Aerith wood and vines with village help. I'll prepare stakes, ropes for traps, and mark key map positions. Selena, gather rocks and torches for distraction. Seiryu, check your medical gear, ready to save lives. At the stream, we'll pinpoint the pit trap and second spike trap's exact spots. Selena and I lure the Clawstalker through the first spike trap, then the pit. Kael handles the pack with the crossbow, leading them to the second spike trap. Seiryu finds and saves the trapped in caves—prioritize getting them out before the Clawstalker returns. Watch for: its illusions—if anyone panics, fall back and call for help. Second, the juvenile's recklessness—it's easier to lure but may rage if cornered. Third, Fanghowls are faster than we think—keep distance at all costs."
Kael clapped, his voice eager despite the rasp: "Alright! Science to work!" He dove into the wood and scrap pile, calling two villagers to help carve and shape metal in the firelight. Selena gathered large rocks, her fiery eye gleaming, while Raizen lit a dry stick from the nearest fire, its small flame a challenge to the forest's dark, his other hand refining the battle map. Seiryu checked her medical kit, her cold eyes scanning each tool, her hands trembling briefly at the thought of what awaited—not just the Clawstalker, but a world of shadows they hadn't yet grasped.
The cold wind from the dead forest swept through the outpost, carrying eerie howls, a reminder that the Graysow victory was only a beginning, and the Clawstalker—though young—was an unavoidable trial if they were to survive Noxvaria.