The Sinful Young Master

The ground around him pressed beneath, and a circular spider web formed around him. But he didn't even flinch. Jolthar couldn't read the lion's intentions; one moment it wanted to attack, and the next moment, it was looking at him like it wanted to say something to him. And he was starting to feel its intense gaze burn on him; it was no ordinary beast, he thought. He could feel heavy even with the aura around him, but he wasn't going back down too. He released all of his aura, his potent and raw power, along with the voidwrath, and the next instant, a whistling sound echoed as the ground dropped even more, covering up to where the lion was. The men moved back, completely shocked and bewildered.

The lion growled low in its throat, a sound that rumbled like distant thunder. Its eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—confusion, anger, and perhaps even respect.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the flames around its mane began to die down, the inferno fading into embers and then disappearing entirely.

The forest seemed to exhale, the oppressive heat giving way to the cool night air once more.

The lion took a step back, its gaze still fixed on Jolthar. There was no submission in its eyes, only acknowledgement. It had faced a worthy opponent and decided this was not a battle it wanted to pursue.

With a final, lingering glance, it turned away, its massive form melting into the shadows of the forest.

Jolthar stood still, watching it leave, his breathing steady but his mind racing. The men behind him remained silent, their weapons lowered but their expressions filled with awe and confusion. Finally, Eran broke the silence, his voice quiet but filled with wonder. "What the hell just happened?"

Jolthar didn't answer right away. He turned to the men, his expression calm despite the intensity of what had just transpired. "Let's get back to camp," he said simply, his voice steady and authoritative.

Eran, still unable to process what just happened.

Just now, he saw the red flaming lion, which no one had seen. It was said that it wouldn't be visible to humans, but they just saw it.

As they made their way back, the knights exchanged nervous glances, their respect for Jolthar deepening. They had witnessed something extraordinary, something they couldn't fully understand.

Jolthar, however, remained quiet, his thoughts focused on the strange connection he had felt with the lion. It was a bit bizarre to explain what happened. He felt a lot of emotions in that just-limited time. He felt like the lion tested him, was afraid, and even seemed to understand his intentions as the lion just went away.

It wasn't just a beast; it was something more.

And so, as the forest returned to its usual nocturnal rhythm, Jolthar couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was far from ordinary.

Eran's thoughts were consumed by what he had just witnessed.

Jolthar had made a Red Flaming Lion—one of the rarest and most dangerous beasts in existence—step back without even raising a weapon. He hadn't attacked, hadn't threatened it, and yet the lion had hesitated, cowed by the sheer force of Jolthar's aura.

It was a feat Eran could scarcely believe, and the more he thought about it, the more baffled he became.

He replayed the encounter in his mind: the ferocity of the lion, the moment its mane ignited into a blazing inferno, and then Jolthar's unflinching calm. His aura had shot out like a wave, freezing not only the beast but the men as well.

They could barely move under its pressure, and Eran could still feel the residual weight of it lingering in his chest.

Jolthar had always been strong, but this was different. This was something beyond ordinary strength, something unnatural.

But how?

Eran's brow furrowed as he recalled the events of the past weeks. The valley incident came to mind first—the favour he seemed to have earned from the deity. And the Matriarch of the Blue Rose—she had taken a peculiar interest in Jolthar as well.

Could she have given him something?

Eran made a mental note to report everything to Lady Maena. She needed to know about Jolthar's growth and the strange events surrounding him.

Whatever was happening, it wasn't just chance.

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Jolthar was becoming something more, something extraordinary, and Eran had a feeling it would have far-reaching consequences.

-*-

After collecting themselves, the group successfully hunted a boar, a prize that lifted the spirits dampened by the tense encounter.

Jolthar took charge of grilling the meat, as had become the custom over the last few days.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

He had an undeniable talent for it, turning simple campfire cooking into something worth savouring. His seasoning blend was a mystery, but it elevated the meat to a level that had everyone asking for seconds.

"You've spoiled us, you know," one of the knights teased as he bit into a juicy piece of boar. "We'll never be able to eat plain grilled meat again."

Jolthar smirked, flipping a sizzling cut of meat over the fire. "Then you'd better hope I stick around. Otherwise, you're back to chewing on charred leather."

Eran chuckled, though his eyes lingered on Jolthar with a mixture of amusement and unease. For all his sharp wit and easy camaraderie, Jolthar was a mystery that Eran couldn't unravel.

The group ate heartily, their laughter filling the camp as they recounted old stories and joked about their adventures. Even the drake seemed content, curled up near the horses with its head resting on its claws. Despite the lingering tension from the encounter with the lion, the warmth of the fire and the camaraderie of the group created a moment of peace. The knights, even though startled by the lion's encounter, Jolthar eased up the tension with his witty comments.

-*-

By morning, they broke camp and resumed their journey. The forest was alive with its usual morning chorus of birds and rustling leaves, a stark contrast to the stillness of the previous night.