The sun had barely slipped below the horizon when the bickering finally died down. After what felt like hours of the royals tossing blame and puffing their egos, silence finally took the reins. It was a thin, awkward quiet—the kind that hovers like smoke after a fire.
Then someone cleared their throat. The sound cut through the stillness like a blade. A girl, probably no older than seventeen, stood stiffly among the group, her eyes flicking from one royal to the next.
"So... what's the plan now?"
All eyes turned toward the green-haired noblewoman who had somehow taken the reins during the chaos. Her eyes narrowed slightly, more annoyed than anything, but she smoothed it over with a thin-lipped smile.
"We camp," she said, calm but sharp. "The day's nearly gone, and we still have miles to cover. It's not smart to keep moving in the dark."
A few people exchanged glances. The idea of sleeping out here—with twisted things possibly still lurking around—didn't exactly sit well with anyone. But no one challenged her. Not outright.
So they moved slowly, almost reluctantly, gathering supplies and forming a messy perimeter for the night. Tents were pitched with trembling hands. Fires sparked to life, offering fleeting comfort. Everyone naturally grouped up, huddled close to the ones they trusted or, at the very least, recognized.
Except him.
The white-haired boy—Ael—drifted away from them all. He walked with soft steps, barely disturbing the grass beneath his feet, and made his way closer to the treeline. There, where the forest loomed like an ancient god, he settled quietly on the ground, arms tucked behind his head, eyes on the stars. Not a word, not a glance.
Some people muttered under their breath. Weird. Creepy. Suspicious. But no one had the guts to say it loud. Not with everything else going on.
Osiris sat near the front of the makeshift camp, back against a broken pillar, watching the flickering flames in silence. Not too close to the others. Not far enough to invite questions. Just enough to keep breathing room.
But his mind wasn't on the fire.
It was on her.
Delythera hadn't spoken since that incident earlier. Hadn't shown her face, hadn't whispered in his ear, hadn't even insulted his intelligence like she usually did. And yeah, it was weird how much that bugged him. He was getting used to her haunting presence.
A cold wind slipped past his neck. Osiris shifted slightly. He rubbed his hands together and let out a slow exhale.
Then it came.
A voice. Sweet and sugary, like poisoned candy.
"Time to get up, pretty boy. There's a big one ahead."
His eyes snapped open.
He blinked, staring into the flickering firelight. He sat upright, scanning the area. No Delythera in sight.
"Del?" he muttered under his breath.
The night was calm. Too calm.
Then, it wasn't.
A deep vibration crawled through the earth, subtle at first, then rapidly intensifying. The campfire shook, sparks flying. The ground trembled with an unnatural rhythm, like the pulse of something monstrous.
People stirred.
Another quake.
A scream tore through the camp.
And then it came crashing through the trees.
A grotesque, monstrous frog—twenty feet tall, eyes bulging like cursed moons. Its body was slick with bubbling pus, its limbs long and twitchy, and its tongue slithered from its maw like a viper.
Osiris stared for a second.
"...Gross."
More screams erupted. People scrambled. Some tripped over their own feet, others clutched weapons with shaking hands.
The monster let out a guttural croak that shook the trees.
The once-calm night, soaked in the pale hues of moonlight, was swallowed by chaos as the mutated frog emerged from the forest's edge—towering, bloated, and grotesque. Its eyes glowed a sickly green, bulging with a hunger that sent a wave of primal fear through the survivors. Slime coated its warted skin, thick and noxious, and each step it took crushed branches, churned soil, and shook bones.
Screams tore through the night. People scrambled in all directions, falling over tents, each other, and their fear. The smell hit next—an acidic stench that made throats burn and stomachs twist.
Elira, standing near the fire pit, was the first to move.
"Formation! Now!" she barked, her voice sharp and commanding. The others—the green-haired girl, whom people called Kaelyn, and the crimson-eyed guy, Theron—rushed beside her without hesitation.
Elira's golden eyes burned as frost began to shimmer around her fingertips. "Let's freeze this bastard in place."
Kaelyn slammed her palms into the earth, sending out ripples of tremor as jagged stone pillars erupted from the ground, attempting to box the beast in.
Theron, already lit with glowing embers, conjured searing flames from his arms, hurling a jet of fire toward the frog's face. "Let's roast this freak!"
But the frog didn't flinch.
The ice froze across its slimy skin and immediately cracked. Flames licked its back only to fizzle and sputter from the mucus layer. The stone spears broke apart as if the ground betrayed Kaelyn's will.
Then, the tongue struck.
A young man, maybe seventeen, barely had time to scream. The slimy appendage whipped through the air and yanked him in with a sickening snap.
He was gone in an instant—swallowed whole.
Gasps and horrified shrieks followed.
Inside the beast, a gurgle rumbled. The man's silhouette bulged within the creature's massive gut. Then, slowly—horribly—he dissolved. Bones and flesh turned to mush in the acidic swamp of the monster's belly. Steam hissed from the frog's nostrils.
Kaelyn turned her head, clenching her jaw. "Damn it, it's immune to direct attacks."
Theron, sweating now, growled. "Acid. That's why. It's built for absorption and counterattacks."
Elira stepped forward. "Then we out-think it."
But even as they regrouped, the frog stomped forward again, tongue flicking, acidic mucus trailing behind its enormous legs like snail slime.
It was getting closer.
And that's when Osiris stood.
Calmly.
Unbothered.
"Move," he said.
They turned. Kaelyn narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Move aside," Osiris repeated, louder this time. "You're wasting your energy."
Theron glared. "We don't need a lecture—"
"You're not fighting it. You're feeding it," Osiris said, walking past them. His eyes glinted with sharp awareness.
He rolled his neck. The air around him changed—cooler, heavier. Even the frog paused.
"Cover me for fifteen seconds," he ordered.
Elira frowned. "Why—"
But Kaelyn cut in. "Do it."
They formed a triangle formation around him. Osiris knelt and dragged a symbol in the dirt with his finger. Energy crackled faintly from his skin, and he inhaled deeply.
"Fifteen seconds..." he whispered. "That's all I need."
The frog leapt.
Elira shot a cone of ice toward its legs. Kaelyn summoned vines from the broken earth to tangle its feet. Theron lit the air ablaze, blinding the creature with a flash of crimson fire.
Osiris dug into the earth, pulling free a stone plate the size of a shield. From his back, a small sphere of black energy ignited—like a miniature star, thrumming with uncontained force.
"Let's see how you handle this."
He channeled his energy into the stone. The plate turned obsidian, absorbing the chaos into its core.
"Abyssal Pulse."
He hurled the disk upward.
The disk sliced through the air, dragging a wave of gravitational force behind it. The frog opened its mouth to retaliate—but it was too late.
The moment the disk hit, it detonated with a low, resonating boom.
Everything stopped.
A dome of void burst outward, compressing air, warping space, and suppressing sound. Trees bent, grass flattened, and even the firelight dimmed for a second.
The frog reeled back. Its tongue lashed wildly. Its front limbs clawed at its face—but something was wrong. The acid... was reacting. The mutated enzymes within its body began to erode itself.
The disk had ruptured the balance of its internal chemistry.
The frog screamed—a shriek of rage and fear—before its body convulsed and imploded into a bubbling heap.
Sizzling steam poured from its carcass. Acid oozed in rivers. Bones melted. Flesh peeled.
Silence fell.
Osiris exhaled slowly.
Theron stared, eyes wide. "What... the hell was that?"
Kaelyn blinked. "That was... planned?"
Elira looked at Osiris, her frown returning—but not with irritation this time. With intrigue.
From a high tree branch, hidden in the shadows, Ael watched it all. His silver eyes narrowed, impressed.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Back on the ground, murmurs started to rise among the survivors.
"Who is that guy?"
"Did he just... kill that monster?"
"By himself?"
Osiris walked past the steaming remains, stepping carefully to avoid the acidic puddles. He didn't smile. He didn't gloat. He just looked toward the forest.
And there—finally—Delythera appeared.
Floating casually above the ground, arms folded, lips curved into a smirk. "Took you long enough to show off."
He looked at her. "Missed your entrance."
"Well," she purred, landing beside him, "I figured I'd let you handle the warm-up."
"Thought you'd ditched me."
"Aw. You missed me?"
He glanced at her, deadpan. "Don't push it."
She giggled.
Elira approached warily. "Who are you, exactly?"
Osiris turned his back. "No one important."
Kaelyn frowned. "That's not much of an answer."
Theron muttered, still shaken, "I think it's enough."
From his perch, Ael smiled to himself.
"Things just got interesting."