Exiled To Rule

Branches cracked beneath his boots. The wind howled past his ears. Lucien didn't look back.

He didn't need to.

He could feel the thing gaining on him—the tremor in the ground, the guttural, bone-shaking growl that vibrated through the marrow in his spine.

The sky was burning orange with dusk. Shadows grew long. Too many. Too fast.

His lungs burned.

His legs screamed.

But still he ran.

Because behind him, stalking like death itself, was something no Level 6 should ever cross paths with.

An Alpha.

It had all started less than ten minutes ago.

He'd been following a thin trail of blood, hoping to track a wounded beast for easy prey. The boar had exhausted him more than he liked to admit, and his supplies were dangerously low again. His right arm was still sore, bandaged but bruised. He wanted to hunt smart, not hard.

That was the plan.

Until he smelled iron.

Not just blood. Pure iron. Saturating the air like rust on a battlefield.

Lucien had crouched behind a stone ridge, peered through a crack—

And froze.

There, in a shallow clearing torn apart like a battlefield, stood a wolf the size of a warhorse.

Its fur shimmered like dark steel, layered in jagged plates. Its eyes burned yellow, almost gold, and three long scars tore across its flank like lightning bolts frozen in time.

It had just finished tearing apart a lesser beast. Fangs dripping. Bones cracking in its jaws.

[Alpha Direwolf – Level 10]Status: Territorial. Agitated.Weakness: None observed.

Lucien's system had never displayed a stat like that before—"none observed."

He had one reaction.

Run.

And now here he was, sprinting through the Borderlands with a demonic wolf on his trail, and no trap, skill, or flame in his arsenal could stop it.

"I am—so—screwed," Lucien wheezed, vaulting over a patch of thorned bushes.

The wolf's snarl echoed like a war drum.

He couldn't outrun it forever. That much was obvious.

But he could outthink it.

Lucien dove behind a thick tree and rolled down the slope. The angle twisted his ankle slightly, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving, pulling a pouch from his belt.

Inside—ashes.

Not magical. Just scorched dirt from the Temple of Ember.

He poured it behind him in a thin trail, grabbed a small vial of beast urine, and splashed it over the ash.

The scent would confuse the Alpha's nose—for maybe ten seconds.

That was all he needed.

Lucien ducked into a nearby ravine, weaving under a mossy log. He used his Analyze skill on the surrounding terrain.

[Terrain: Collapsing Tunnel]Structural Stability: 12%Warning: High risk of cave-in under pressure

Perfect.

He darted inside, sliding between sharp stone outcroppings and ducking beneath fallen roots. The space was tight—too tight for the wolf to follow directly.

He reached the central cavern, panting, and spotted a section where the roof above looked weak. Loose stones. Brittle soil.

Lucien shoved his shoulder into a support beam and began to push. Hard.

"Come on—"

The structure groaned.

A flash of silver at the tunnel's edge.

The Alpha was here.

Its claws scraped the stone. Eyes glowed in the dark.

Lucien rammed the beam again, yelling as his shoulder throbbed—

CRACK.

The ceiling above gave out.

Dust exploded into the air as tons of dirt collapsed behind him. Lucien rolled backward, coughing, eyes stinging. A roar echoed from behind the rubble—muffled, angry.

But blocked.

Not stopped.

Just slowed.

Lucien didn't wait. He sprinted through the back tunnel, heart hammering.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

He ran until the cave opened into a forest grove scattered with moss-covered ruins. Sunlight had almost fully vanished now, replaced by blue dusk. The world was quiet—but not safe.

Lucien didn't let himself relax. He knew better.

The Alpha wasn't dead.

Just redirected.

And it would be back.

He dropped to one knee, trying to catch his breath, then glanced at his map.

There—a ridge nearby with old rock formations. Maybe a place to hide.

But then an idea struck.

Not hide.

Trap.

Lucien scouted the grove. The trees here were dense, their branches twisted and heavy with vine. He tore some down and began crafting. Fast. Efficient. Precise.

Using bone shards, sharpened obsidian, and the last bit of fire-oil he'd saved, he rigged a small spike-burst trap near the clearing's edge. A dead rabbit carcass served as bait. Crude, but enough to delay.

Then he moved toward the ridge.

There, nestled between twin boulders, was a steep drop into an overgrown sinkhole. Maybe six meters deep, filled with vines and broken stone. At the bottom, jagged stakes of tree branches—natural. Dangerous.

If he could get the Alpha to fall…

Lucien tied one of his rope snares near the edge and began reinforcing it with bark and vine. Then he rubbed ash along his clothes—his own scent—then down the trail, leading straight toward the trap.

The wind shifted.

A snarl echoed behind the trees.

Lucien's blood went cold.

It was coming.

He positioned himself on the far side of the pit, hidden behind a crumbling wall. He gripped a broken sword, eyes sharp.

He would only get one shot.

The Alpha burst into the clearing like a cannon.

It sniffed. Growled. Then lunged at the rabbit.

The trap triggered.

A cluster of sharpened bone stakes fired upward, slicing into the beast's flank.

It howled in rage.

Good.

Lucien whistled.

The beast's head snapped toward the sound.

He leapt out from behind the ruin, shouted, and bolted toward the pit.

The Alpha charged.

Lucien ducked, rolled—cut the vine.

The snare pulled tight as the beast's weight shifted.

Too fast to stop.

Too heavy to dodge.

CRASH.

The Alpha tumbled over the edge, snarling as it fell.

Its weight crushed the overgrowth.

There was silence.

Then a low, rumbling growl.

Still alive.

Lucien gritted his teeth and raised his hand.

The ember in his palm flickered—dark and cold.

Ashen Ember – Ignite

He tossed it.

The pitch-black flame struck dry vine.

A surge of fire, unnatural and slow-burning, consumed the pit like oil-fed fury.

The Alpha thrashed—screamed.

Lucien turned away.

Not out of mercy.

Out of exhaustion.

He collapsed beside a ruined wall, panting, ears ringing.

He'd done it.

He hadn't fought.

He hadn't won by power.

But he'd escaped.

Outsmarted something twice his level.

And he was still alive.

[Survive Deadly Encounter – Bonus EXP Awarded]+EXP GainedLevel Up: 6 → +3 Stat Points Gained+1 Skill Point Gained

Lucien didn't smile.

He just closed his eyes.

The Borderlands didn't forgive mistakes.

But maybe… it rewarded the clever.