The sun of Arcadia was beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows on the giant conifers that bordered the village.

As Sulyvhan rounded a basalt outcrop on his way back from training, he came face to face with a group of Lycans led by the Patriarch Van himself. The wolf warriors stopped dead in their tracks. Their faces, marked by the scars of many tribal wars, lit up with a glow of excitement as soon as they laid eyes on the young man. Van stood in the center, towering over his subordinates with his size and overwhelming aura.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sulyvhan in a calm voice, his hand resting on his sword.

The Patriarch stepped forward. "What a question..." spoke the Patriarch with a carnivorous smile that revealed his sharp fangs. "We are here to fight, of course!"

This blunt and direct answer caught Sulyvhan off guard for a fraction of a second, but a mocking smile eventually lit up his face. He knew the mentality of the Pack by heart: for them, combat was the purest form of communication and respect. There was no room for long diplomatic speeches in Arcadia.

Sulyvhan nodded slowly, his silver eyes shining with a new gleam. "I see. In that case, I accept. Shall we go to the training ground?"

Van let out a laugh that sounded like a thunderous growl. "That won’t be necessary. The land of Arcadia is our training ground, kid!"

Without warning, one of the Lycans, a young warrior impatient to test his strength, leaped forward. He used his superior physical power to propel his massive body like a cannonball. And so the fight began.

Sulyvhan did not move until the last moment. His senses, sharpened. He saw the trajectory of the Lycan’s descending claw. With a simple pivot of his hips, he let the attack pass a few millimeters from his chest. He seized the beast’s hairy wrist and used its own propulsion force to hurl it against a century-old tree trunk. Without giving him time to recover, Sulyvhan appeared above him and delivered a palm strike charged with aura to the plexus, neutralizing him instantly.

A second Lycan charged immediately after, attempting to take him from the flank. Sulyvhan did not even bother to draw his sword. He used a rapid movement technique.

He became a silver streak. In three quick exchanges, an elbow to the chin, a sweep and a circular kick to the temple, he subdued the second attacker without too much effort, leaving him on the ground, dazed.

As he stood upright, adopting a nonchalant posture, Sulyvhan suddenly felt a massive presence materialize behind him. A familiar gravitational pressure made the ground crack under his boots. Reacting with superhuman speed, he performed an aerial pirouette to dodge a devastating attack that pulverized the rock where he had been a moment before.

As he twisted in mid-air to land softly, he saw that it was Van. The Patriarch no longer wore his friendly smile; his yellow eyes stared at him and his aura saturated the surrounding air. Then the fight broke out between the two.

Van used his massive claws, but not for close combat. With a horizontal movement of his arm, he projected sharp shockwaves at a distance.

< Lycan Martial Art: Crescent Moon Claws >

The waves of emptiness surged towards Sulyvhan, slicing through bushes and stones with a sinister hiss that left furrows in their wake.

Sulyvhan realized he could no longer remain on the defensive. His hands went to the hilt of his sword. He gathered his strength and then swung his sword.

< Art: Sundering Eclipse First Movement: Crescent Moon >

A silver energy blade, of molecular fineness, sprang from his white sword. Sulyvhan’s slash collided with Van’s attacks in mid-air. The impact did not cause a loud explosion, but a metaphysical tearing of the ambient mana. The two energies canceled each other out in a crackle of ozone, pulverizing the surrounding dust.

The exchanges continued for several minutes, a ballet of brute force against surgical precision. Each of Van’s blows made the earth tremble, while each of Sulyvhan’s movements seemed to erase the space before him. Finally, the fight ended in a draw as the two combatants retreated simultaneously, creating a safety distance. Van had not gone all out, keeping his power contained so as not to kill his disciple.

As the two caught their breath in the restored silence of the forest, Sulyvhan sheathed his sword. He stepped toward the Patriarch and, in a rare gesture of deference, bowed deeply before Van.

"Thank you for everything you have done for me..." murmured Sulyvhan, his voice laden with an emotion he usually hid.

He straightened up and looked Van straight in the eyes, then his gaze lost itself on the horizon, beyond the treetops. "I think it is high time for me to leave this place... I would like to know the world."

Upon hearing this, a smile of pride and melancholy appeared on Van’s scarred face. He knew this day would come. The eagle could not remain forever in the wolf’s nest.

"In that case, go..." replied Van in a solemn tone. "Live your life as you see fit. But never forget that your family is here and will always wait for you."

Responding with a smile that, for once, had nothing mocking about it, Sulyvhan bowed once more before turning on his heels toward the village to prepare his departure.

Two weeks later West Coast Port of Arcadia

Sulyvhan, aged twenty, stood on the dock. He had traded his Lycan furs for a more sober traveler’s outfit. His preparations were complete. He left the Lycan tribe for good to board a merchant ship bound for the human continent.

As the boat moved away from the wild coast of Arcadia, Sulyvhan watched the mountains fade into the mist. This precise date corresponded to the moment when, in another thread of destiny, Lucifer left the human continent to head near the Abyss Gate.