Alex moved through the jungle with purpose. The memory of the dream still pulsed behind his eyes—the girl, the wolf, the moonlit clearing. She had shown him something. A path. A truth.

  And he would follow it.

  For the first time since entering the jungle, he wasn’t just surviving. He was searching.

  For the wolves.

  He didn’t know why. Only that he had to find them.

  The forest was still as he moved. But then—movement. Fast. Silent. Low to the ground.

  A shadow flickered between the trees.

  Alex slowed his steps. His breath caught.

  Then it emerged.

  The wolf.

  Its body was massive, covered in thick, black fur. But its eyes glowed red, and mist coiled around its limbs. It didn’t breathe. It didn’t blink.

  A demon wolf.

  Not like the one in his dream.

  This one wanted blood.

  It charged.

  Alex dodged left, barely avoiding the crushing jaws. The blade sang as he drew it, slashing out, but the wolf spun and struck with a clawed paw that sent him tumbling through ferns.

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  He rolled to his feet. His ribs ached. Again.

  The wolf didn’t pause. It leapt—and Alex blocked, metal clashing with bone.

  The fight raged. He struck. It dodged. It bit. He rolled. On and on, a brutal dance with no end. But something was wrong—every time he landed a blow, the wolf would vanish into mist... and then reappear, whole again.

  No matter how deep he cut, it wouldn’t die.

  Where is your core? he thought, panic rising.

  The sword felt heavy now. His arms trembled. Sweat stung his eyes.

  I can’t keep this up…

  Then he remembered. The sword had awoken once—when it drank his blood.

  Will it help me see again?

  Without hesitation, he flipped the blade, slicing his finger. Blood ran down the steel.

  The sword pulsed.

  Suddenly—he saw. A faint red light, buried in the wolf’s foreleg, just above the paw. Not in the chest. Not in the head.

  There you are.

  The wolf lunged again, faster than before. Alex barely avoided its jaws, spun low, and slashed at the foreleg.

  A howl tore the air.

  It wasn’t fury. It was pain.

  He struck again—precise, brutal—cutting toward the core. The wolf screamed and thrashed, but he didn’t stop. One final strike—and the core shattered beneath his blade.

  The demon dissolved into black mist.

  Alex dropped to his knees, gasping.

  Alive. Again.

  But something had changed. The moment the wolf died, the jungle shifted. The mist lifted slightly. And then—

  A scream.

  Human.

  Alex froze. It echoed through the trees—raw, terrified.

  His first instinct was caution. It could be the dead again, trying to lure me.

  But then he remembered: The dead whisper at night, the old man had said. Not during the day.

  So he moved, quiet and careful, through the undergrowth.

  What he saw nearly stopped his heart.

  A girl—young, maybe his age—trapped beside a broken cart. Two armored men stood between her and a massive demon tiger, snarling and circling like death incarnate.

  Its stripes were jagged and glowing. Its breath steamed. Its eyes were molten gold.

  Alex crouched, hidden.

  He could see the core again—thanks to the blood sacrifice.

  It was in the tiger’s stomach.

  But fear held him back.

  I could die here, he thought.

  Then he remembered something else—the old man’s warning:

  “Never trust a noble. They wear smiles like masks. They only see pawns.”

  There was enough reason to walk away.

  And yet—

  His eyes fell on the broken cart behind the girl.

  Painted on its side was a symbol.

  A wolf.

  The same wolf from his dreams.

  That was all it took.

  Alex stepped into the clearing.

  “The core,” he called to the guards, “it’s in the stomach.”

  Both men turned, startled by his voice—and his presence.

  But they were desperate enough to believe anything.

  One lunged forward with a spear, the other swung a curved blade—but the tiger moved like lightning, batting them away like flies. It pounced—straight at the girl.

  Alex didn’t hesitate.

  He ran, sword high, and met the tiger mid-air.

  The blade pierced its belly.

  A burst of light.

  The demon howled, then collapsed in a pool of black blood and silence.

  The jungle went still again.

  The girl looked up from the ground, trembling.

  The two guards—bruised, bloodied—stared at the boy who had saved them. At the sword that shimmered faintly in his hands.

  At the strange red glow still pulsing around his eyes.

  They weren’t grateful.

  They were suspicious.

  And now, they were all watching him.