The bodies of Oleg’s men lay strewn across the bloodstained ground, the scent of iron thick in the air. The four warriors gathering towards the main hall, weapons in hand, their breath heavy from the battle. Yet, despite their victory over the lesser men, the real fight had only just begun.

  At the centre of the chamber stood Oleg, the true leader of the bandits—the monster who had built this fortress from the bones of weaker men. He was massive, his hulking frame towering over them like a mountain of flesh and sinew. His skin bore deep scars and an unnatural texture, as if his body had been reshaped by something beyond human. His mutated physique pulsed with unnatural energy, veins bulging like coiled ropes beneath his skin.

  The torchlight flickered, casting his grotesque form in a shifting glow. His eyes burned with a deep, inhuman hunger—a predator who had finally been forced to bare his fangs.

  “You lot are fools,” Oleg rumbled, rolling his shoulders. The thick sinew of his neck cracked like splintering wood. “You think you’ve won? You think killing my men means anything?”

  Ilyas narrowed his eyes, shifting his stance. “You should have run when you had the chance.”

  Oleg grinned, revealing teeth that were too sharp, too jagged—inhuman. He cracked his knuckles, the sound like rocks grinding together.

  “I was hoping for a fight.”

  Then he moved.

  A blur of speed, unnatural strength, a beast wrapped in human skin.

  The First Strike

  The floor splintered beneath Oleg’s monstrous charge. He was fast—too fast for a man of his size, a living battering ram aimed straight at Kaavi.

  But Kaavi had already seen it.

  In a fraction of a second, he tapped into his Va?itva Siddhi—his mind slipping into the twisted corridors of Oleg’s thoughts.

  Left hook—too strong to block. Dodge to the right.

  Kaavi moved a heartbeat before Oleg’s fist crashed down, splintering the wooden floor into jagged fragments. The impact alone sent a gust of wind through the hall.

  Ilyas lunged from behind, his twin sabres flashing in an arc. His speed was terrifying—any normal man would have been cut down in an instant.

  But Oleg wasn’t a normal man.

  The bandit leader twisted his mutated arm raising just in time to block Ilyas’s first strike. The blade barely cut into his flesh before Oleg swung back with inhuman power.

  Ilyas barely dodged, rolling away as the shockwave of the blow sent stone and debris flying.

  Danil was already in position. From the shadows of the broken pillars, his bowstring thrummed—a blur of blackened steel arrows slicing through the air.

  Three arrows aimed at the neck, heart, and thigh. Perfectly placed.

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  Oleg grinned. His skin hardened. The arrows hit, but they barely pierced his flesh. They sunk into his mutated body, but not deep enough to slow him.

  Danil’s eyes widened. “What the hell—”

  Oleg ripped the arrows from his skin, dropping them to the floor with a sickening chuckle. “You’ll have to do better than that, archer.”

  That was when Ren struck.

  The Ghost’s Blade

  Ren was a whisper in the dark, a shadow that didn’t belong in the flickering torchlight. His knives flashed as he slipped into Oleg’s blind spot, moving with impossible speed.

  A precise slice to the tendons behind the knee.

  Another blade to the side of the throat.

  A third to the ribs.

  It should have ended him.

  But Oleg wasn’t human, he had crossed the limitations of human body.

  The instant the blade bit into his mutated flesh, his skin hardened, muscle fibres twisting in a grotesque reaction. The cuts were shallow, not enough to cripple.

  Then Oleg spun faster than a man his size should be able to.

  His massive arm caught Ren mid-movement.

  The impact sent Ren flying, his body slamming into a pillar with a sickening crack. The assassin crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, blood dripping from his lips.

  “Not bad,” Oleg sneered. “But not enough.”

  Kaavi’s Gambit

  Kaavi didn’t hesitate.

  He dove into Oleg’s mind, searching through the raging storm of thoughts. There—!

  A weakness.

  Oleg’s mutation had a fatal flaw. His hardened flesh made him nearly impervious to blades, but he couldn’t cover his eyes—the retina lacked muscle to harden. His defence had a blind spot, literally.

  Kaavi’s voice was sharp. “Danil! Aim for his eyes!”

  Danil, already reloading, didn’t hesitate. He loosed an arrow in a heartbeat.

  Oleg barely had time to react. The arrow struck true, piercing through his left eye socket and sinking deep.

  The bandit roared in agony, staggering backward, clutching his ruined eye. His screams were deafening, shaking the very walls of the stronghold.

  Then, he went berserk.

  Blinded in one eye, he swung wildly, his monstrous strength turning every blow into a whirlwind of destruction. His fists shattered stone, his roars echoing like a wounded beast. The ground trembled beneath his rampage, but his strikes lacked precision. He couldn't see—he couldn't block.

  Ilyas saw the opening.

  With a savage war cry, he leapt onto Oleg’s back, his sabres flashing. His blades found flesh this time, sinking deep into the soft muscle between the thickened bones of Oleg’s spine.

  Oleg screamed, flailing, trying to grab Ilyas, but his movements were uncoordinated. The pain, the disorientation—it was overwhelming him.

  Kaavi clenched his fists. His mind burned from the use of his power, but he had to push forward. He jumped onto Oleg’s back, grabbing his head and forced his way deeper into Oleg’s mind, flooding it with false signals—a pain that wasn’t there, a sound that didn’t exist, an enemy behind him that wasn’t real.

  Oleg staggered, confused, disoriented.

  That was when Ren struck again.

  Despite his injuries, the assassin darted from the shadows, his knife flashing. This time, he drove the blade straight into Oleg’s throat.

  A wet, gurgling sound filled the hall.

  Oleg choked, blood pouring from his lips. His berserk rage faded as the light in his remaining eye flickered. He stumbled, clawing at his throat, but it was over.

  Oleg collapsed to his knees, gasping, choking.

  Danil stepped forward, pulling another arrow. He placed it directly against Oleg’s forehead.

  For the first time, fear flickered in the monster’s remaining eye.

  Danil didn’t hesitate.

  The final arrow struck true.

  Oleg’s massive body slumped forward, motionless.

  The Aftermath

  The hall was silent.

  The battle was over.

  Kaavi exhaled slowly, feeling the toll of his power weigh on his body. His hands trembled; his vision blurred for a moment—but he was still standing. That was enough.

  Ilyas wiped his bloody sabres on Oleg’s corpse before sheathing them. “That was… something.”

  Danil let out a low whistle. “Tough bastard.”

  Ren, still leaning against a pillar, managed a weak chuckle. “Next time, someone else can be the distraction.”

  Kaavi allowed himself a small smile. They had done it.

  Oleg was dead.

  The stronghold was theirs.

  And yet, this war wasn’t over.

  if Oleg had been a monster…

  There were worse things lurking in the shadows.