The jungle didn’t burn often. Not like this.
Flames licked across the branches like tongues of war. Trees that stood for centuries crackled and split. The air was heavy — not just with smoke, but with something else.
Intent.
A coordinated strike. Magical. Methodical. Brutal.
Ten summoned golems moved through the sacred forest like steel gods of ruin. Bark peeled under their feet. Roots shattered like glass.
Each of them pulsed with unnatural light — no two alike. One glowed deep green with shifting moss-armor. Another glinted silver with jagged quartz along its arms. A third looked barely solid — a construct of mist and stone, held together by some arcane rhythm.
They weren’t alone.
Three shadows walked behind them:
Neyxa, silent, her eyes unreadable.
And two elite assassins from her clan — cloaked, fast, cruel.
They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.
This wasn’t a hunt.
It was a cleansing.
Near the sanctuary’s western edge, a dozen spirit beast cubs huddled near the roots of an elder fig tree, trembling.
A shimmer pulsed overhead — a magic net. It shimmered violet, preparing to collapse.
And then the air split open.
“RAAAAGH!!”
A blur of black fur and raw muscle erupted from the brush, barreling through the net with crushing force.
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Ko Mala.
The blessed gorilla struck the arcane trap mid-air, cracking it like glass. The force of the impact sent mana shards scattering through the vines.
He landed with a grunt, knees buckling, shielding the cubs behind him.
His fists lit with warlight — not flame, not lightning, but a primal pressure.
“You don’t touch cubs,” he growled.
One of the golems turned — tall, plated in jagged obsidian with tusk-like spikes on its shoulders. It registered him. Advanced.
Ko Mala stepped forward.
“Come then.”
The first blow was clean — a straight hook into the golem’s side. The sound echoed like stone exploding.
The second was messier — Ko Mala drove a shoulder under the golem’s arm and flipped it over a mossy ridge. Earth split beneath it.
But this golem didn’t fight alone.
A second one dropped from the trees behind him — faster than expected, vines snapping under its feet.
It punched him clean in the back.
“UNGH!”
Ko Mala stumbled forward, ribs crunching. His vision swam. He turned — barely dodged the follow-up. Sparks and bark sprayed everywhere.
He countered with a heavy stomp, cracking the ground, then slammed both fists into the earth. The jungle itself responded — a wave of kinetic energy rippling upward, hurling both golems off their feet.
The cubs behind him squealed and scrambled away.
He exhaled — blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Not enough.”
One of the golems recovered faster — the tusked one. It lunged again. This time, it brought down both fists in a crushing hammer motion.
Ko Mala blocked — arms crossed overhead — but the impact knocked him back. His left arm twisted, something tearing inside.
He roared — pain clouding his vision.
Still, he rose.
Chest heaving.
Blood in his teeth.
He glanced toward the cubs. They were almost out of sight now, thanks to his defense.
He looked back at the two golems.
His legs shook.
“I said… come then…”
He slammed his fists together — and let it all out.
A magical explosion tore from his core. Not flashy, not pretty — just raw, concussive power. A detonation of pure will that leveled the ridge, shattered one golem into a heap of burning limbs, and knocked the second back into a tree so hard it cracked down the middle.
Ko Mala dropped to one knee.
Chest rising. Falling.
That was everything he had.
Then…
From the smoke…
Two more golems emerged.
Larger.
Smoother.
Sharper.
Ko Mala tried to stand — and collapsed.
The last thing he saw was the shattered sky above him, branches silhouetted by flame…
…and the cubs disappearing into the woods.
Then the golems moved in — and darkness followed.