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As night fell, the shadows grew thicker, the darkness beyond the camp undulating like a living thing. The low growl of the Shadowfang Cat pierced the quiet, sharp and urgent—a clear warning of danger.
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Lu Feng’s heart clenched. He knew instantly: tonight would bring no peace.
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“Stay alert—trouble’s coming!” he hissed, gripping his sword. His eyes, hawk-like, scanned the gloom.
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The campfire crackled faintly, its warmth dwindling. The group, moments ago laughing and preparing to retire, now froze. The Shadowfang Cat—usually aloof, lazily basking in Lu Feng’s scratches—suddenly bristled like a spiked black furball, its emerald eyes locked on a shadowy corner beyond the camp. A low, frantic growl rumbled from its throat.
135Please respect copyright.PENANAKsTa1o6r7Y
Lu Feng’s smug grin vanished. The air, thick with the scent of roasted meat and camaraderie, turned icy. Only the rustle of leaves and the cat’s escalating snarls remained.
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Ayla understood first. Moonlight shimmered in her palms, her eyes narrowing. Tuck and Raphael, seasoned fighters, tightened their grips on weapons, muscles coiled.
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Lu Feng rose slowly, his gaze sharpening toward the darkness. A smirk tugged his lips. “Looks like tonight’s dessert is delivering itself,” he muttered.
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Orders flew: Ayla and Raphael fortified defensive wards while Lu Feng, Tuck, and the Shadowfang Cat stealthily advanced.
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The night reeked of malice. Whispers of vengeance slithered through the air—Grunn’s voice, venomous and plotting.
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Under the cat’s invisibility cloak, the trio infiltrated the ogre camp. Firelight revealed Grunn at its heart, clutching a black crystal, murmuring to a cloaked figure. “Grunn’s here,” Lu Feng whispered, anger simmering. “And that sorcerer… trouble.”
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The Shadowfang Cat ghosted to the camp’s far side, unseen.
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Back at their camp, Lu Feng relayed Grunn’s plans. Dread settled over the group. They devised a trap, leveraging the forest’s labyrinthine terrain. Raphael sketched tactics; Ayla’s moonlight hardened the wards. Tuck hefted his blade, resolve stone-hard.
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“Ready?” Lu Feng’s voice was steel.
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“Done,” Raphael said, maps in hand.
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Ayla nodded, her barrier glowing faintly.
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Tuck grinned savagely. “Time to make them bleed.”
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Then—footsteps. Rapid, panicked. The group braced, weapons raised, expecting ogre hordes.
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Instead, a figure stumbled into the firelight—a youth, ragged and breathless. He collapsed, gasping, “Run… *now*!”
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Tuck’s eyes widened. “Wait—I know this kid!”
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But the stranger clutched Lu Feng’s arm, face pale. “Grunn’s not alone—he’s summoned a *Nightfiend*!”
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Silence.
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Even the Shadowfang Cat froze.
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Lu Feng’s blood turned to ice. *Nightfiend*—a name from darkest legends.
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The boy trembled. “It’s already hunting… and it’s *here*.”
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Somewhere in the woods, a tree splintered. Something ancient, ravenous, and utterly *wrong* drew near.
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