Elijah tripped.

  That wasn’t right.

  After all, Lycans were renowned for their balance and adaptability. It was more likely for a carp to drown than a Lycan to trip on their own.

  Even more curious was the fact that despite some time having passed, the young man had not moved from his position. Despite the harsh conditions he had been subject to, it was sand, not cement. Despite all this, he remained motionless, as though exhausted from his efforts.

  The truth was much contrary to its appearance, though, as the panicked yellow eyes of the young vulpine told.

  In his immobility, a string of deep red connected to the sand beneath him. He was bleeding.

  What happened to me?

  Roused finally from his stuporous state, the young Lycan looked to inspect the state of his body and discovered, to his great horror, that his internal organs had been damaged.

  His race boasted of exceptional control and awareness of their bodies, and merely moving his consciousness inward was enough to give him an understanding of his body that would rival any surgeon’s exhaustive examination.

  Knowing what happened was one thing, but knowing why it happened was another matter entirely. Lycans were durable creatures to say the least, and even in the case of their soft innards, it would have to be quite the trick to cause them to spontaneously explode.

  He was still bleeding, and the combination of his bad and deteriorating condition and the pain he felt made his vision blur.

  He was no stranger to pain, but this excruciation was beyond anything he had ever even imagined, not to mention experienced. His mind raced for some solution or explanation.

  How was it even possible?

  Silver was the only thing that had such a dramatic effect, and even that felt different.

  Silver.

  The thought of the metal drew the boy back and stirred something up like clay from a riverbed.

  He remembered that silver water his dad showed him.

  Could that be the cause?

  The chilling thought crept into his consciousness despite his feeble attempts to fight back against it.

  Was it possible?

  He knew without being told that he was a disappointment.

  He knew that he was a burden.

  He knew all this and knew it truly.

  Still, the idea that his own father would poison him was beyond the pale.

  There's no way.

  Nature had no intention of leaving him to his ponderings, though.

  Vibrations reached his body from the blistering sand that surrounded him. Something was approaching him.

  Something big.

  Despite his state, he somehow communicated his desire to move to his members, and they responded, just barely avoiding the incoming collision.

  His feet barely supported his shakily upright stance as he tried to discern his assailant with vision weakened by injury and exhaustion.

  A mass of horn and hide stood before him, most likely confused by the fact that its charge had been dodged.

  It wasn't the only one confused, as the boy who stood before it was just as bewildered.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  He had never seen such a creature before.

  It seemed to be a giant wildebeest – a common enough creature in the realm, excepting the fact that this was a desert and such a large grazer couldn't ever subsist in such scarcity.

  That was merely the beginning of the incongruities, though. It was not only much larger than its peers, its shoulder height an alarming two metres at least, but also seemed to have unnatural growth in other aspects.

  For example, its forehead had been partially breached by a half-open red pupil, threatening to make its way fully to the surface at any point, and its horns and teeth seemed to sprout up distortedly, with a pair of horns emerging just behind one of its ears and a row of jagged carnivorous teeth lining the red carpet of its tongue.

  What is that thing?

  No, to say the creature before him was bizarre was to say nothing at all.

  It wasn't patient either, as it was not content with allowing its intended prey to extensively examine it and instead preferred another attempt at goring the lad.

  Despite the pain he felt, the young man managed another deft dodge. Mere evasion wasn't his strong suit, though, and after giving it some space, he stimulated the power of his bloodline, volcanic ash rising from his pores as his head turned into that of some black and hellish hound, and he bit into its neck.

  Teeth clashed with hide and bone as he made an effort to dig into this monstrosity’s body. The abnormal spikes on its body also grazed and pierced him in his fevered resistance, but he seemed to have no intention of leaving until he snuffed its life out.

  Suddenly, the beastly boy separated from his opponent, putting no small amount of distance between them in his retreat.

  Moments later, bone spikes emerged from the creature’s neck, covering it at several spots like some sort of armour. Had he not moved just now, his head would have been impaled.

  What a strange creature, he thought, clutching a piece of bone he had held on to in order to attack stably earlier on.

  His sudden retreat didn't stop him from claiming this, and he observed it with some interest from the corner of his vision. Despite the escalating circumstances, he had become much calmer. The iron-rich blood of his opponent had actually done a lot to boost his recovery, and the pain from his unexplained injuries made him lucid even with the houndlike transformation.

  Staring straight at the creature, he placed the large chunk of bone in his mouth and swallowed.

  Yes, this mutant was a strange creature, but the Lycan before him was stranger still.

  It had taken a few minutes, but the young Lycan finally felt that he was ready to close this out.

  He had consistently dodged the attempts of the wildebeest and made small but incremental wounds in passing, causing it to slow down but also become more frantic in its efforts.

  Now, when the beast made to gore him, he was clearly far more at ease with it, evading slightly and opting to trade wounds as though his intention were to win out in a battle of endurance against this monster many times his own size.

  This was the quality of the Lycan.

  Their apparent imperviousness to many materials came not from their skins (though their hide was notoriously difficult to pierce) but instead from their stomachs.

  Their unique anatomies meant that they could uniquely break down any and all materials introduced into their bodies. Therefore, an iron blade that stabbed them would be corroded on contact with their blood, and their powerful metabolism would allow even them to absorb the residual elements without adverse effects.

  This wasn’t a blanket immunity to all materials but, like most immunities, could be built up with increased exposure. It was exactly for that reason that Elijah had consumed that piece of the creature’s horn. As his body broke it down, he would find it easier to take the blows. That was why he also opted to exchange blows. It would build up his immunity as well as wear down the dangerous creature.

  The sands beneath the two fighters, already stained red as evidence of their relentless struggle, suddenly began to tremble, shaking the world above them like a giant had dropped from on high.

  The boy was quite naturally alarmed, but his horned opponent, in its crazed state, ignored the obviously more pressing matter and instead took this as the perfect opportunity to strike. The young man knew better than to take his eyes off his opponent, though, and therefore anticipated the blow, planning another dodge but this time intending to finish the job so he could flee from this dangerous area.

  Ugh!

  Deep red blood tried its best to escape from the gap between his fingers as he covered his mouth.

  It happened again.

  That inexplicable damage to his innards, and at the worst possible moment too.

  Despite his sudden condition, he tried to dodge out of the way, barely evading a lethal collision. Just as the creature was about to pass him completely, he felt something tighten around his leg.

  It wasn’t until he was thrown into the air that he realised that it was the creature’s tail that had grabbed him. It must have had another irregular mutation and become more prehensile. Just his luck.

  As his mind raced for some solution to save himself from impending doom, a sickening squish sounded out.

  He woke up a few seconds later to find that a whole chunk of flesh was missing from his side from the monster’s deadly charge.

  Aaagh!

  The agony was beyond what could be put into words, but his pain was evident from the piercing tone of his scream.

  He had reverted to his base state in the short time he had been knocked out cold, but his howl was animalistic.

  That damned poison!

  It ruined everything.

  Was this the end for him?

  Was he really going to die here?

  His lungs were on fire.

  Every part of his anatomy worked overtime to stabilise him.

  It was working; his blood had already started clotting.

  If he could just struggle upwards.

  If…

  All of a sudden, his desire to fight back evaporated.

  What was the point after all?

  He had been discarded.