The forest swayed, and the conifer trees moved silently, creating an eerie atmosphere. There were no animal tracks on the ground, which was unusual, as if everything in the area understood not to tread here. High up in the trees, where birds usually sang, there was only silence.

  Dane slowed, since his training with the Beastform had started, he would get a feeling much like the Danger sense part of his Huntsman skill, but it had been quiet since the fight with Zeph. The storm, the hum, the edge of the Beastform that always lingered at the corners of his mind, was gone now. He flexed his hands, willing the power to respond, and felt nothing but an emptiness, a hollow calm. When he wrestled control over his demon form, he severed something.

  Zeph walked beside him, his eyes scanning the shadows. He said nothing, but the stiffness in his shoulders, the quiet set of his jaw, spoke of unease. Dane forced himself to inhale, to steady his racing heart, to remind himself that even without his Beastform, he was not helpless.

  Something felt wrong. The air grew even more still, and flashes of crimson from his skill, Hunstman, appeared. They were surrounded.

  The snake-worshippers emerged as if from the air itself, moving with a slithering precision that mirrored the creatures they venerated. Necklaces adorned with glowing forest-green glyphs hung from their chests, faintly pulsing like veins alive with unearthly blood. Their eyes, narrow and glinting, took in Dane and Zeph at once, and a single hiss of recognition cut through the damp air.

  "Show your sigil," the leader demanded, voice curling like smoke. "Or be judged unworthy."

  Zeph's throat was bare; his own necklace long gone the moment he had taken Dane under his wing. The worshippers' faces twisted, a mix of contempt and amusement, and then, with a single fluid motion, they struck.

  Their movements were liquid, sudden, and precise, striking from impossible angles, weaving together feints and lunges with a grace born of obsession. Poison glinted along blades that flicked toward him. Dane struck first, his hand wrenching the Megalodon free from his waist.

  He stayed light on his toes and crashed like water on the snake priests. One of them blocked his arm, and the moment the priest touched Dane, he twisted, pushing hard into the claws that grabbed his arm. He twisted midair, landing a spinning elbow from his off hand on the jaw of his opponent. The Beastman crumbled to the ground. He was still breathing, and before he could land the finishing blow.

  Zeph screamed.

  Dane's attention snapped. The men bound and tied Zeph, their necklaces glowing faintly with the green of the glyphs, the ropes twisted harder, being controlled by the magic. Panic started to settle in. Dane still fought tooth and nail, but he was just too outnumbered.

  Twenty of them with talons, blades, fangs. There was no weakness he could exploit, no glaring flaw in their style. If he had magic, he didn't doubt that it would have gone differently.

  He parried, twisted, struck, and fell back again. He had to try it. The Beastform was the only thing that would get him out of this. He channeled his mana and called the Beast. But he was still empty. He tried harder, and black smoke rose from his arms like steam. For a moment, scales sprouted and wings began to form. But, as quickly as the form started to take shape, it flashed out of existence.

  The men tied and bound Dane. They dragged him through the forest. He counted the tops of the trees with nothing better to do. He felt cold stone under his head and figured they had reached their destination. A large fist plummeted toward his face, and everything went black.

  When he woke up, he was chained to a stone pillar in the center of what looked like an altar. The sigils and glyphs that decorated the platform he was on began to glow a beautiful forest green, pulsing with the distant chant of the snake priests.

  Zeph trembled beside him, lips moving in murmurs. "It swallowed the suns, it freezes the rivers, its hiss ends worlds…" His voice cracked, tears tracing lines through the dirt and sweat on his face. "We weren't supposed to come here. No one..."

  The distant sound of trees cracking reached Dane's ears. Something impossibly large was moving through them, crushing the earth beneath its coils. Dane scanned the area and saw the tops of trees parting, being forced to bend. Scales scraped on the fallen timber; the sound was like a grinding hand saw. The glyphs on the altar shifted suddenly, from forest green to deep crimson, as if the blood of the earth itself had seeped into them.

  And then the suppression came.

  It was immediate. The air grew thick, heavy, and Dane's breath grew ragged. The forest seemed to lean in, every branch, every leaf, every fallen trunk bending under the weight of it. Dane's knees buckled, the ground feeling impossibly far away. It felt like the Golden Dragon's aura, but instead of being defensive, this felt ravenous, like it would devour everything in sight.

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  The World-Ender serpent appeared, vast and ancient. Its scales shimmered with impossible colors, each one a polished shield, each movement fluid and immense. It coiled around the altar, enveloping the dais in its body. The forked tongue flicked, tasting Zeph first, drawing a hiss of recognition from the bound man.

  "Ah," it said, voice low, sibilant, reverberating through Dane's chest. "Aurion's bloodline. What a waste. The eagle's grandson, trembling like a child. He would weep to see his heir so pathetic." The tongue traced Zeph's cheek. "It has been many ages since I last tasted one of the bird-god's brood."

  Then the eyes turned to Dane. Narrow, calculating, ancient. It inhaled him in a single motion, as if smelling through every vein and fiber of his being.

  "And what is this… one of the time-walkers? No… not quite. You reek of humanity. But Khronos' stench does seem to cling to you. Curious."

  Dane's lips parted, the words dry and ragged. "I took his power. He's part of the Earthbound system now."

  The serpent's eyes gleamed, unblinking, long, and patient. "Truth and lies tangled together. He still lingers within you. But no matter. Rare prey indeed. So tell me… why have you come here, when I am sure the eagle warned you away?"

  Dane lifted his chin, feeling the emptiness inside, the absence of the Beast within. Fuck that, I have never needed power before, he thought to himself. I will not bow to another tyrant... I refuse. The memories of his enslavement were close to a decade away, but they scarred his soul.

  Dane's fingers rubbed against the rough fibrous rope, feeling it bite into his skin.

  "I came to take the Rite," he said, this time with the weight of every failed attempt, every wound, every moment that had led him here. "I am not here to bow. I am not here to plead. I came to best you in combat. And I will."

  The serpent regarded him with something that might have been amusement, though there was no warmth in its gaze. Then, like water folding in on itself, its immense coils compressed, scales folding and colors shifting, until the great beast shrank before Dane's eyes.

  A human form emerged, tall and unnerving, posture perfect, the pale skin shimmering with subtle hints of iridescent scale. The eyes remained golden and slit, predatory, but now they rested at Dane's level, calculating. In its hand appeared a curved blade, light as shadow, humming faintly with restrained power.

  "Very well, as the old accords demand, I will test you." The snake said with a grin starting to form. Dane felt the snake's power, and he was somewhere around peak C grade now.

  The air around Dane lifted, the suffocating pressure of the ritual the priests had woven fading like fog before the sun. Dane drew a shaky breath. Finally, he could breathe without his lungs burning, could move without the world pressing in from every direction.

  His mana was still sealed. He couldn't use the Beastform. So, despite his fragile mana pathways, he knew that he had to use it.

  He felt the Dragon essence, coiled like a spring within his core. Full. Burning. Alive. He drew it into his body, letting the heat pulse through every muscle, every tendon, every vein. The sensation was immediate and violent: a sudden rush of strength that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. I don't care if my channels crack I need more, he thought. Pushing more of the Dragon's boon through his body.

  And then Daedala spoke, cold and precise amidst the storm of sensation:

  [Skill Unlocked: Shattered Limiter]Strength +500%. Dexterity +500%. Uses one point of DE per minute.

  Dane flexed, feeling the increase ripple through him. It was not as good as his Beastform increases. But it would have to suffice. He drew his dagger, testing the weight, and the world seemed to sharpen around him, every shadow and movement etched in crisp clarity.

  The first strike came before he could take a full step. The serpent moved like water, folding over itself, blade slicing toward him in a whisper of motion. Dane's own strike met it, the clash ringing out through the clearing, pine needles and stone kicked into the air. His teeth gritted as he rolled, parried, struck again, a dance of precision and controlled fury.

  For a heartbeat, he thought he could do it. He could match the serpent, maybe even surpass it. He struck a blow that made the predator's golden eye flicker, made its blade swerve.

  And then he realized.

  The smile. The deliberate ease. The way it let him land that strike without truly moving to counter, the way it tested, prodded, like a cat with a mouse.

  It was toying with him.

  Dane's chest burned. He could feel the edges of exhaustion, the pain of his Shattered Limiter already biting at him. Every movement demanded more than his body wanted to give. His heart pounded in his ears, and a growl tore from his throat, raw and bitter.

  It's not going to go easy on me. I have to push further.

  He clenched his fists, feeling the essence pulse hotter, and braced himself.