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Chapter 2: The Hunger Within

  Chapter 2: The Hunger Within

  The traveler had collapsed shortly after delivering his warning, and now he lay in the elder’s hall, tended to by elven healers. The words he had spoken, however, echoed in Lior’s mind.

  The Chains of Oblivion have begun to break.

  What did it mean? And why had he called Lior a key?

  Sylwen sat beside him on the high boughs of the great Elderpine, their usual meeting spot when things weighed heavy on their minds. The night breeze carried the scent of rain, and the distant hum of elven magic pulsed through the air.

  "You’ve been quiet," she observed, flicking a leaf at him.

  Lior caught it absentmindedly, his thoughts tangled. “I have a feeling that man didn’t come to Sylva’ren by accident. He knew something about me.”

  Sylwen nodded. “Elder Vareth thinks he was marked by some kind of dark magic. They’re still trying to cleanse him, but it’s resisting.”

  Lior exhaled sharply, his frustration mounting. “And yet, I feel nothing. If this is tied to my bloodline, shouldn't I sense it?”

  Sylwen hesitated, then pulled something from her satchel—a dagger with a curved, silver edge, faintly humming with enchantment. “Then maybe it’s time you push yourself. See if your instincts know more than your mind does.”

  Lior eyed the blade warily. “You want me to test my infernal side?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “You always hold back. Always try to be more elven than incubus. But that man called you a key, Lior. We need to know what that means before it’s too late.”

  A rustle in the underbrush caught their attention. Both reached for their weapons as a low snarl rumbled through the trees. Then, a shape lunged from the shadows.

  A Grimhound.

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  The beast was the size of a wolf, but its eyes burned red with unnatural hunger. Its black fur bristled, and veins of shadow pulsed beneath its skin. This was no ordinary predator—it had been touched by something dark.

  Lior reacted on instinct. He rolled to the side as the beast snapped at him, then drew his twin daggers, their edges catching the moonlight. Sylwen loosed an arrow, striking the beast’s flank, but it only staggered before whipping its head toward her, its mouth twisting into an unnatural grin.

  A flicker of rage ignited in Lior’s chest. It was the wrongness of the creature—the corruption that clung to it like a disease. He moved without thinking, his blades flashing as he lunged.

  [Twin Fang Strike] Activated.

  His daggers sliced deep into the beast’s throat. It gave a wet, gurgling snarl before collapsing to the forest floor, its dark blood staining the roots beneath it.

  Lior took a shaky breath, but as he stepped back, something... called to him.

  The grimhound’s chest still pulsed faintly, its heart beating one last, dying rhythm. And Lior could feel it—an energy within, dark and ancient, whispering to him.

  Without thinking, he reached out.

  New Ability Unlocked: Devour Essence

  Effect: By consuming the heart of a fallen creature, you may absorb its strength and evolve over time.

  Lior’s breath hitched. A dark instinct stirred in him, something primal.

  “Lior?” Sylwen’s voice was cautious. “What’s wrong?”

  He hesitated. Told himself to step back. To ignore the call.

  But he couldn’t.

  Slowly, he reached down and placed his hand over the grimhound’s chest. As his fingers pressed against the dying flesh, a strange force surged into him. The beast’s heart dissolved into black mist, flowing into his palm like ink drawn to a quill.

  His vision blurred. His body burned.

  Then—

  Essence Absorbed.

  Progress to Evolution: 1%

  Lior gasped, staggering back as the rush of energy faded. The power of the grimhound flickered within him, a faint, pulsing ember. He felt... sharper. Stronger.

  Sylwen was staring, bow drawn. “Lior. What did you just do?”

  He swallowed hard. “I—” He didn’t know how to explain it. “I think I took something from it.”

  Sylwen’s grip on her bow tightened. “That wasn’t elven magic.”

  “No,” Lior admitted. “It wasn’t.”

  The implications of what he had just done sent a shiver down his spine. This was power born of his infernal blood, an ability no elf possessed.

  And yet... he hadn’t felt corrupted. If anything, he had felt right.

  His mind snapped back to the traveler’s words.

  The Chains of Oblivion are breaking.

  Lior didn’t know what that meant.

  But if his bloodline held the key to stopping it—if he could grow stronger by consuming the essence of the dark things that threatened this world—then maybe, just maybe, he could be more than an incubus fighting his nature.

  Maybe he could be something more.

  And for the first time, he wasn’t afraid to find out.

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