The forest monster was a legend—a creature of gnarled roots and ancient rage. Malik’s quest was twofold: to harness its power and to unravel the curse that bound him to Lena.

He entered the dark forest, he became alert. he knocked out the monsters below him with crushing them and sucking their blood.Byte game him detailed info of his new vamp skill hes was acquiring, he had grew stronger, but the great tree was still ahead, a challenge he would have overcome.

The air thickened as he approaches the monster, charged with primal energy. Malik faced the tree monster, its gnarled form towering above him. Grimthorn—the ancient guardian of these woods—had awakened. Its bark-like skin shifted, revealing eyes that held centuries of secrets.

He had come seeking answers, but now survival consumed him. Grimthorn’s roots uncoiled, reaching for him. The forest monster’s hunger was palpable—a craving for more than flesh and bone.The forest monster, Grimthorn, was no mere creature. It was a manifestation of primal chaos, its form shifting between bark, moss, and shadow. Its eyes glowed like dying embers, and its limbs stretched impossibly long, each ending in wicked claws.

“Why do you trespass?” Grimthorn’s voice echoed through the twisted branches. “What bargain do you seek?”

Malik’s memories—of Lena, of love—flickered. But he had made his choice. “Freedom,” he replied. “Release me from the curse that binds me to her.

Grimthorn’s laughter rustled leaves. “Power comes at a cost,” it murmured. “What will you sacrifice?”

"nothing, no one will write my destiny!" he shouted.

Then taste my wrath.

Grimthorn lunged, its roots tearing through the earth. Malik met it head-on, claws slashing, fangs sinking into woody flesh. The monster retaliated, vines wrapping around his limbs, squeezing the life from him. But Malik was relentless. He summoned his vampiric strength, breaking free, and tore into Grimthorn’s core.

The forest quaked as their battle raged. Malik’s blood dripped onto the moss, mingling with the monster’s sap. He felt the ancient power coursing through him—the primal rage of the werewolf, the insatiable thirst of the vampire. He channeled it all into one final strike.

With a roar that echoed through the trees, Malik plunged his hand into Grimthorn’s heart. Bark splintered, and the monster disintegrated, its essence absorbed into him. He staggered, panting, the forest falling silent around him.

As dawn approached, Malik reverted,  His skin healed, and his fangs retracted. He wiped sweat and sap from his brow, staring at the spot where Grimthorn had fallen. The forest would remember this night—the night a man of darkness had saved it from an even greater evil.

And so, Malik walked back into the shadows, his vampiric hunger sated, his werewolf instincts at peace. But he knew that other monsters would rise, other battles to fight. For he was the guardian of this ancient realm—a black-blooded hero, cursed and blessed, forever bound to the forest’s secrets.

Now he had no one illuminating his destiny, intertwining it with Leah’s. Their fates, once divergent, now gravitated toward each other. The cosmic threads of chance and choice wove a tapestry where their paths converged, entwined, and embraced. He stood at the precipice of a shared future—a destiny forged in the fires of longing and possibility.

The shade walker retreated upon seeing the fight, to visit the witch and tell her of her broken curse.