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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.
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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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