Starless Nights

The Mountain Tiger lunged first.

Its massive frame cut through the snow like a blade, muscles rippling beneath its frosted fur. Its roar silenced even the howling wind — a guttural, bloodcurdling sound that froze the soul more than the blizzard ever could.

Kael didn't flinch.

"Spread out!" he barked.

Only half of the soldiers listened. The rest froze in place, unsure whether to run or hold their ground. They were used to patrols and scare tactics, not actual combat. Certainly not against something like this.

The tiger swiped a claw the size of a man's torso.

One soldier wasn't fast enough.

He didn't scream — there was no time — just a crunch, then red in the snow.

Kael didn't even look. He raised his hand, and the wolf beside him growled and leapt forward.

It collided with the tiger mid-air, redirecting its lunge just enough to buy a few precious seconds.

"Move! I said spread out! Flank it from the sides!" Kael shouted again, voice like steel. He didn't wait to see if they obeyed.

With a flick of his fingers, he summoned another beast — this one a crow, black-feathered with burning eyes. It circled overhead, shrieking as it scouted for openings.

The tiger shook off the wolf and turned its attention to Kael.

Perfect.

Kael stood his ground as the beast charged.

When it was only a breath away, he sidestepped with terrifying precision. Not because he was faster than the tiger — he wasn't. But he knew how to move, how to read a fight. He used the terrain, the snow, the wind — everything.

And his beasts filled the gaps.

The crow dove down, scratching at the tiger's eyes. The wolf bit at its legs, drawing blood. Not enough to kill, but enough to frustrate.

The soldiers finally started moving. Two tried to flank the beast, wooden spears trembling in their hands.

They stabbed.

The spears snapped.

The tiger roared and lashed out. One went flying, his ribs crushed. The other tripped and didn't get back up.

"Don't fight it head-on!" Kael snapped. "Support me! I'm the blade — you're the shield!"

The men hesitated again, but this time, they listened.

They stopped trying to kill the thing. Instead, they harassed it, threw rocks, jabbed at its flanks, forced it to divide its attention.

It was sloppy, but it helped.

Kael summoned a third beast — a serpent this time, pale and fanged, slithering through the snow. It struck from beneath, coiling around the tiger's hind legs.

With all his beasts swarming it, Kael closed in.

He pulled out a dagger, coated in beast poison, and with one clean motion, drove it into the tiger's side — just beneath its ribcage.

The creature howled.

The venom worked fast.

Within seconds, its limbs began to falter. Its swings became wild, uncoordinated.

Kael backed off, letting the poison do the rest.

The beast collapsed, snow turning crimson around its twitching body.

Silence fell.

The soldiers stood still, wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

They looked at Kael like he was something else. Not a man, not a soldier.

A tamer.

A commander.

A savior.

"…Did we just kill that?" one of them whispered.

"No," said another. "He did."

Kael said nothing. He was already checking the wounded, ordering them to move the injured behind a nearby ridge.

He didn't smile, didn't bask in their awe.

But deep down, he felt it.

They needed him.

And he wasn't going to let them forget that.