As Alvinnu\u00e9 takes a cautious step forward, a low wind curls around him, carrying with it whispers\u2014barely audible, yet unmistakably voices. They seem to call not to his ears, but to something deeper within him, stirring shadows in his memory he did not know existed. The wind chills his bones despite the spring warmth, and the trees at the mountain\u2019s edge bow as if in silent reverence\u2014or warning. He rests a hand on the hilt of his Doth-\u00c9amon Short Sword, not out of fear, but respect. This was not a place to draw steel lightly. Whatever lay within Kan-alon would not be faced with strength alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9 ventures closer to the mountain, the ground beneath his feet firming into packed earth as the towering trees part around a barren clearing. No birdsong dares cross into this space, no wind rustles the leaves\u2014only a haunting stillness. In the center of the clearing, the soil is disturbed. A single set of footprints marks a solitary path, pressed deep with purpose, or perhaps desperation. Alvinnu\u00e9 crouches beside them, his shadow stretching long over the tracks. Recent. Not more than a few hours old.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He follows the trail, senses sharp, each footfall measured. The prints wind into the brush, where splashes of crimson begin to mar the trail\u2014blood, scattered like a fading memory. The air grows colder, tighter. A broken branch here, a scuffed tree trunk there\u2014signs of a struggle. But no second set of tracks. Whoever left these marks walked alone\u2026 and bled alone. Alvinnu\u00e9’s fingers brush the hilt of his sword. Someone\u2014or something\u2014is ahead, and they are either wounded\u2026 or waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9 continues to follow the trail of blood, each step drawing him farther from the shelter of the trees and deeper into the mountain\u2019s harsh domain. The forest thins until it disappears entirely, replaced by jagged stone and lifeless earth. Scrub grass clings to cracks in the rock, and wind howls through the ravines like the cries of the long-dead. The trail of blood winds across dry, cracked soil and sun-bleached bones\u2014deer, perhaps, or something older.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then\u2014he sees it. A sword, half-buried beneath wind-blown dust and loose shale, its blade dark with dried blood. He kneels beside it, lifting it carefully. The weapon is finely made, the craftsmanship foreign to this desolate corner of the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His eyes narrow as he examines the hilt. There\u2014etched in gold and dulled by dirt and blood\u2014is a symbol: a sun rising behind a three-pronged trident. Recognition strikes like lightning. The Kingdom of Sariyaz. A land far to the south, across the Unclaimed Lands, known for its militant devotion to the god of order and flame. What is a Sariyazi blade doing here, in the shadow of Kan-alon?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9 tucks the sword into his belt, unease gnawing at him. He pushes forward, the blood trail growing heavier as it winds toward a jagged cliff face. There, at the mouth of a blackened cave carved into the mountainside, he sees him: a man collapsed on the barren ground, pale and still. His armor bears the same sun-and-trident emblem, now torn and scorched. Alvinnu\u00e9 approaches with care, the wind biting through his cloak. This place reeked of death\u2014and something more ancient still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9 approaches carefully, each step calculated, his senses alert. The wind stirs around him, carrying the scent of blood and ash. As he draws closer to the man, he notices the faint rise and fall of his chest\u2014a sign that the soldier is still alive, despite the heavy toll of his injuries. The man\u2019s breathing is shallow, ragged, each exhale laced with pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Hey!” Alvinnu\u00e9 calls out, his voice breaking the silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man\u2019s head lifts slowly, and Alvinnu\u00e9 sees the grimace of fatigue and agony etched in his face. His once-vibrant brown hair is streaked with grey, weathered by time and battle. A scar runs along the man\u2019s right cheek, a reminder of past conflicts, long forgotten by most but no less permanent. The soldier\u2019s eyes, dull with pain, lock onto Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Please… help,” the man rasps, his voice hoarse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9 moves swiftly, kneeling beside him. He presses his hands to the man\u2019s shoulder, gently lifting him into a sitting position. The man winces, but his relief is visible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s gaze shifts to the man\u2019s right leg, where a large gash runs from knee to ankle. The wound is deep, raw, and still seeping blood. Without hesitation, Alvinnu\u00e9 reaches into his satchel, pulling out a small vial of dark, shimmering ointment\u2014Shadow Salve<\/em>. The salve, an old remedy from the shadow arts, has been known to mend wounds quickly, though it carries an eerie sense of power.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He uncorks the vial, the pungent scent of herbs and nightshade filling the air. He applies the salve to the wound with practiced hands. The moment the ointment touches the skin, the bleeding slows, the gash knitting together as the magic takes hold. The man exhales a soft groan, his pain visibly lessening as the salve works its magic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019ve saved me,\u201d the soldier mutters, his voice weaker now, but filled with gratitude. His gaze flickers to Alvinnu\u00e9, the recognition settling in his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 glances at him, surprised by the soldier\u2019s words. \u201cWhy are you here?\u201d Alvinnu\u00e9 asks, his brow furrowing. “What happened?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n The soldier closes his eyes briefly, his head resting back against the cold stone of the cave entrance, as if the weight of his history is too much to bear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The soldier takes a shaky breath before pushing himself upright with a groan. His strength seems to ebb, but there\u2019s resolve in his eyes as he steadies himself. \u201cI\u2019m Hakun,\u201d he says, his voice rough, though firm. \u201cI was on a vital mission\u2026 I need to reach the castle of Geldanos in the capital. It\u2019s a matter of great importance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun pauses, wincing as he shifts, his gaze distant for a moment before it refocuses on Alvinnu\u00e9. “I was crossing the Unclaimed Lands, starting from Fort Sundalo, where I was stationed.” His hands grip the edges of his armor, as if steadying himself against the weight of the memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe monsters…\u201d His face tightens in pain as he continues, \u201cThey came from the border of the forest, just as I was nearing its edge. Massive, like something born of nightmare. I thought I could fight them off\u2014took a swing at the first one with my sword, but they were too many. I was outnumbered.\u201d He gives a hollow laugh, a painful thing. \u201cMy horse didn\u2019t make it. And neither did I, not without luck.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun\u2019s gaze lowers to his bloodstained leg, the memory of the battle clearly weighing on him. \u201cI tried to hold my ground, but I couldn\u2019t stop them all. That\u2019s when I was hit\u2026 thought I was done for, and then\u2026 nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s gaze hardens. \u201cCan you describe the monsters?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun\u2019s jaw tightens. His eyes drift, not seeing the rocky terrain but something far darker\u2014something burned into his memory. \u201cI\u2026 I\u2019ll try,\u201d he mutters. His breath grows shallow, and the color drains slightly from his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s important,\u201d Alvinnu\u00e9 urges, his tone calm but firm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun nods slowly, forcing the words out. \u201cThey were\u2026 ape-like. Huge\u2014each one stood as tall as two men. Their fur was white as bone, matted with blood. Their eyes\u2026 red. Not just red\u2014burning. And their claws, gods, their claws were long as daggers. Ripped through steel like it was bark.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s brows furrow. Something about the description gnaws at the edge of his mind. Without a word, he slings his pack around and pulls out a thick, worn leather-bound tome\u2014the Creature Compendium of Shanda-Wold<\/em>, a gift from his mother before he left. He drops to one knee and begins flipping through the pages, his fingers moving with urgency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCome on… come on\u2026\u201d he mutters, then stops. \u201cHere.\u201d He holds up the open book, revealing a sketched image of a hulking white-furred beast with burning eyes and long, hooked claws.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun stares at the drawing for a moment before a shiver runs through him. \u201cAye,\u201d he says quietly. \u201cThat\u2019s the bastards.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s eyes darken. \u201cThe Amomongo<\/em>,\u201d he says. \u201cVery dangerous. They hunt in fours\u2026 always fours. Once they mark a target, they don\u2019t stop. Not until it’s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A low, bone-chilling shriek cuts through the still air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Both men freeze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The cry echoes across the barren rocks\u2014high-pitched, animalistic, and cruel. Another follows. Then a third. Then a fourth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey\u2019ve found the trail,\u201d Alvinnu\u00e9 says, rising swiftly, slipping the compendium back into his pack. \u201cThey\u2019re coming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 kneels beside Hakun, gripping him firmly beneath the arms. \u201cThis will hurt,\u201d he says quietly, his eyes scanning the cave\u2019s dark interior. \u201cSo try to keep quiet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before Hakun can protest, Alvinnu\u00e9 lifts and drags him farther into the cave, careful but swift. The older man stifles a groan, biting down as pain flashes across his face. They reach a shaded alcove where the shadows cling tightly to the stone. Alvinnu\u00e9 lowers him gently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cStay here,\u201d he says, his tone low, commanding. \u201cNo matter what happens, don\u2019t come out. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun nods weakly, still catching his breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 pulls a small satchel from his belt and scatters dried leaves at the mouth of the cave, whispering an incantation under his breath. A subtle, sweet fragrance wafts outward\u2014light, almost minty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat are those?\u201d Hakun asks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPandan Leaves,<\/em>\u201d Alvinnu\u00e9 replies, eyes still on the cave entrance. \u201cFrom Shanda-Wold. The scent will confuse their sense of smell. They hate it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun\u2019s eyes widen. \u201cShanda-Wold? Wait\u2026 are you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before he can finish the thought, Alvinnu\u00e9 reaches into his cloak and pulls out the bloodstained sword\u2014the one with the sun and trident. He places it in Hakun\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun stares at the blade, his breath catching. \u201cMy sword\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 meets his eyes and presses a finger to his lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Silence now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With a fluid motion, he turns and steps out of the cave, vanishing into the gathering darkness just as the wind carries the faintest scent of blood\u2014and the first low growl echoes across the barren peaks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun sat in the cold hush of the cave, clutching the hilt of his sword as though it were the last thread tying him to life. The sweet, strange scent of the leaves masked the iron tang of blood in the air, but not the fear coiled in his chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He strained to hear beyond the stone, but all that reached him was the distant shriek of the monsters and the howl of the wind. Amomongo,<\/em> Alvinnu\u00e9 had called them. He’d never heard the name before\u2014but he knew a predator’s cry when he heard one. And he\u2019d seen enough death to know that even one of those beasts could tear a man apart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Fort Sundalo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Once, the outpost had been alive with the sounds of drills, laughter, the scent of stew over the fire. Now\u2026 ashes and bones. The Army of the Undead came without warning, a tide of horror. He saw young men fall\u2014screaming, praying, defiant. And Captain Josquin\u2026 gods, Josquin. He\u2019d stood alone at the final gate, his armor burning with the last light of Sariyaz\u2019s sun, buying Hakun and Yorges just enough time to flee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCarry the seal,\u201d<\/em> Josquin had said, the last breath at his lips. \u201cGet to Geldanos. They must know. No matter what.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n He gritted his teeth, eyes burning as he stared at the sword in his lap. His sword. Returned to him by a shadow-walking stranger from a land most called myth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wind shifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He held his breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A scrape echoed outside. Stones shifted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then\u2014silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His knuckles whitened on the hilt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No matter what.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Outside the cave, Alvinnu\u00e9 moved like a whisper among the branches and stone, every step a calculated echo of his training.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Shrieks came again, closer now, layered with snarling. His hand hovered over the hilt of his Doth-\u00c9amon short sword. The shadows around him thickened as the last of the light dipped behind the mountain peaks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Good.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n He inhaled deeply, centering himself. The pulse of shadow magic surged within him, cold and familiar\u2014like slipping into the sea at midnight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shadowblend. One of the Amomongo emerged through the trees\u2014towering, hunched, its white fur streaked with dried blood, claws clicking as it sniffed the air. Its red eyes blazed with hunger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It growled low.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 circled unseen, silent as breath. He remembered the Jirryu drills\u2014Strike from the veil. Withdraw before the scream.<\/em> He channeled the shadows into his legs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shadowsprint. The beast shrieked and spun, clawing at empty air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Another stepped into view. Then a third. The fourth\u2026 was still hidden.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They\u2019re flanking.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n He melted back behind a boulder, focusing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shadowmeld. Blood sprayed in arcs. The scent would send them into a frenzy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He exhaled\u2014not in fear, but in control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The beast charged, maddened by pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s form turned ethereal once more, phasing through a storm of clawing limbs. In a blur of shadow and momentum, he leapt high above.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With precision born of discipline, he plunged the Doth-\u00c9amon Short Sword between the creature\u2019s fiery eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The beast shuddered, slumped back, and its flame was extinguished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They weren\u2019t mindless. They hunted as one. That meant he had to be faster. Smarter. The Jirryu taught him to use the enemy\u2019s hunger, their rage, against them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He lifted his sword again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s dance.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n The Amomongo\u2019s roars shook the ground, their rage growing as they clawed at the earth in search of their elusive prey. Alvinnu\u00e9 could feel their heavy steps through the stone\u2014slow, but deliberate. The last thing they expected was a warrior who moved like the night itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Inyyudian Swift Sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s body blurred as he sprang from the shadows, his short sword a flash of steel. The second Amomongo barely had time to register his movement before the blade slashed across its chest, so fast, so precise, that it left only a spray of blood and a gurgling snarl. He spun midair, his feet grazing the ground as he landed behind the beast in one fluid motion. Another slash\u2014across the back of its legs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Amomongo stumbled, but it was still too strong, too savage. Its claws swiped wide, missing by inches.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Alvinnu\u00e9 wasn\u2019t done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With a fluid twist of his body, he rolled to the side, leaping into the air with the grace of a panther. His body flowed through a sequence of acrobatic flips, each landing more deadly than the last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Inyyudian Sword Strike.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As he fell from the air, he angled his short sword, driving it toward the beast\u2019s neck with the precision of a master. The blade sank deep\u2014aimed for the throat, cutting through muscle and bone. The Amomongo\u2019s eyes widened in a final, shocked scream before it crumpled to the earth, lifeless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 landed in a crouch, his sword stained, his breath steady. His feet barely made a sound as he rose to his full height, his senses heightened, his focus razor-sharp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Two left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A third Amomongo charged from the shadows, its claws raised. But Alvinnu\u00e9 was already gone, melting into the darkness once more. The air was alive with the tension of the hunt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 activated Shadowsprint again and shot forward, faster than a heartbeat. The Amomongo roared in fury, swinging wildly at the empty space where Alvinnu\u00e9 had been just moments before. But the strike never landed\u2014Alvinnu\u00e9 had already closed the distance. He danced around the beast, his blade finding purchase in a series of quick, fluid cuts. A slash to the shoulder. A strike to the ribs. The creature howled in pain, but it couldn\u2019t catch him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He used the speed and precision of his swordsmanship to stay just out of reach, to dance in and out of danger with the finesse of an expert. Each cut was a death sentence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The creature stumbled, its fury turning into confusion as it bled out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With a sudden burst of speed, Alvinnu\u00e9 drove his sword into the heart of the beast. It fell, silent at last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One remained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The final Amomongo stood still among the corpses of its kin, towering over them with a terrifying majesty. Its gold-red mane rippled like fire in the moonlight, its eyes glowing with a deep, hateful intelligence. This was no ordinary beast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This was the Leader.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 barely had time to react before the creature reared back its head and unleashed a Paralysis Howl<\/em>, a terrible, bone-shaking cry. The air shimmered as mana surged from its throat, and suddenly, Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s limbs stiffened. A wave of paralyzing energy crashed into him, locking his muscles, making his vision blur.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He dropped to one knee, his breath shallow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But even in pain, the Shadow moves.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Focusing his will, Alvinnu\u00e9 tapped into his training. He bit the inside of his cheek\u2014pain sharpened his senses. In a swift motion, he flung a throwing knife with his left hand, the blade spinning through the air. It buried itself in the beast\u2019s shoulder with a sickening thunk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Amomongo howled again\u2014this time in rage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It charged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 rolled to the side, the paralysis lessening, his movements regaining fluidity. Another throwing knife flew\u2014then another\u2014finding their mark in the beast\u2019s leg and torso. Blood sprayed, but the monster was relentless, shrugging off wounds like they were scratches.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s hand tightened around his Doth-\u00c9amon Short Sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The blade pulsed with a cold, black glow\u2014its shadow energy thrumming like a heartbeat. He whispered a word in the ancient tongue of Shanda-Wold. The runes on the blade flared to life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As the Amomongo lunged, Alvinnu\u00e9 met it mid-strike. The clash shook the ground, but the moment his blade touched the beast\u2019s fur, the creature shuddered violently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Its mana flow was sealed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The paralyzing howls ceased. Its strength faltered. Its advantage vanished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now it was a battle of speed and will\u2014and Alvinnu\u00e9 was built for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dodging the beast\u2019s wide swipes with agile backflips and swift rolls, he carved deep lines across its hide. His blade was a blur\u2014his movements more shadow than man. Blood sprayed in arcs, staining the rocks and leaves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Still, the beast fought on, staggering but furious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s body ached\u2014cuts lined his arm and cheek, his breath ragged, but his stance did not waver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then, he stepped back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He whispered a final word.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The shadows wrapped around him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shadowstrike.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n He vanished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Amomongo froze, its beast instincts screaming. It looked around, snarling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But the attack had already happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A single, invisible strike ripped across its chest\u2014perfectly clean, utterly silent. The creature stopped moving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Its massive form wavered, then collapsed in a heap, unmoving. The glow faded from its eyes. Its gold-red mane lay soaked in blood and shadow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 appeared behind it, sword lowered, breath steady. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The forest was silent once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n From the dark hollow of the cave, Hakun lay still, every breath laced with pain and awe. His wound ached, but his senses were sharp. He\u2019d heard the howls, the screeches, the clash of steel and fury just beyond the entrance. The Amomongo\u2014the beasts that had torn through his horse like cloth\u2014were dying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then…<\/p>\n\n\n\n Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun blinked, barely able to believe what he was seeing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201c\u2026Saints above\u2026\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He pushed himself up on one elbow, his fingers still clutching the Sariyaz sword Alvinnu\u00e9 had returned to him. The same sword that had been useless against the Amomongo. And yet this boy\u2014no, this warrior\u2014had felled the entire pack alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 finally turned his gaze toward the cave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou stayed quiet,\u201d he said evenly, stepping closer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun stared, jaw slightly slack. \u201cLad\u2026 what in the name of the old gods are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 tilted his head slightly, then gave a faint, tired smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSomeone who was taught never to run from the dark.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun chuckled, but it came out more like a cough. \u201cRemind me never to get on your bad side.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 crouched beside him, checking his leg again. The Shadow Salve was holding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCan you walk?\u201d Alvinnu\u00e9 asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hakun took a breath, then nodded. \u201cWith help. And maybe some of those ghost leaves of yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 gave a rare smirk, slipping a few Pandan Leaves into his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" As Alvinnu\u00e9 takes a cautious step forward, a low wind curls around him, carrying with<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[133],"class_list":["post-2863","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-alvinnue"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2863","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2863"}],"version-history":[{"count":20,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2863\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3550,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2863\/revisions\/3550"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2863"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2863"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2863"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
The darkness welcomed him as he faded into it. Leaves rustled but no form was there\u2014only shadow moving against shadow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A blink. A flash of motion. The sword sliced deep into the creature\u2019s thigh before Alvinnu\u00e9 vanished again, leaving only pain and confusion in his wake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s form shimmered, ghostlike, as a massive claw tore through empty air where his chest had been. He reappeared mid-roll, blade flashing as it sliced through the first Amamongo\u2019s leg.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n