A Predator’s Lesson

Hibiki crouched low, eyes scanning the dense undergrowth. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Hunting wasn’t difficult, but it was tedious.. especially when all he could find were weak little animals that barely put up a fight.

He exhaled in irritation. I need something bigger.

The rustling of leaves caught his attention. A shadow moved between the trees. Hibiki tensed, gripping his dagger.

Then a deep, guttural chuckle filled the clearing.

“Well, well,” a voice sneered. “What do we have here?”

From the darkness, a massive goblin stepped into view. This wasn’t some lowly creature like the ones found in books.. this one was built like a boulder, with jagged scars crisscrossing its green hide. A cruel grin spread across its face, revealing yellowed, broken teeth.

Hibiki raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know goblins lived long enough to get wrinkles.”

The goblin’s grin twitched. “Got a smart mouth, huh? Ain’t gonna help you much.” It cracked its knuckles. “Bet you’ll be squealing in a few minutes.”

Hibiki tilted his head. “I don’t know… You look like the type to enjoy squealing more than me.”

The goblin scowled. “You got guts, brat. Not for long, though.”

It lunged.

Hibiki barely dodged, rolling to the side as the goblin’s clawed hand smashed into the tree behind him, splintering the bark.

He smirked. “Missed.”

The goblin growled. “I like when they struggle. Makes it more fun when they start begging.”

Hibiki dusted off his sleeve. “Oh, you like begging? Makes sense. Your mother probably begged the gods to give you a brain, and they ignored her.”

The goblin’s eye twitched. “You little..”

It charged again. Hibiki ducked, twisting away as the goblin’s massive fists crashed into the dirt. He was fast, but not strong enough to take this thing head-on. He needed to..

A sharp pain erupted in his ribs as the goblin caught him mid-step, sending him flying. He hit the ground hard, coughing as he struggled to get up.

The goblin loomed over him, a cruel glint in its eyes. “Not so cocky now, are ya?”

Hibiki wiped the blood from his lip, smirking. “Still more cocky than you are intelligent.”

The goblin snarled. “Say that again, kid. Say it while you’re on your knees.”

Hibiki froze.

On my knees.

Just like his mother had been. Just like the villagers before they were cut down.

Something in his chest tightened.

The goblin grinned. “Go on. Beg.”

For a moment, the world felt distant. This was what he had wanted, wasn’t it? To see others kneel before him, to strip them of their dignity like the soldiers had done to his people.

But as he looked at the goblin’s leering face, something felt… wrong.

This wasn’t power. This wasn’t justice.

This was just cruelty.

And it made him sick.

The goblin raised its fist..

Then an arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself into its shoulder.

It howled in pain.

The elf emerged from the trees, bow in hand, another arrow already nocked. Her expression was unreadable.

The goblin snarled, yanking the arrow free. “Tch. Damn elf.”

It turned back to Hibiki, but something in his eyes made it pause.

The boy was smiling.

Not a smirk. Not an arrogant grin.

A slow, knowing smile.

“Run,” Hibiki said.

The goblin’s jaw clenched. It glanced at the elf, then back at Hibiki, and for the first time, uncertainty flickered across its face.

Then it bolted into the trees, vanishing into the shadows.

Hibiki exhaled, feeling the tension drain from his body. He looked at the elf, his expression unreadable.

She lowered her bow. “You’re hurt.”

Hibiki shook his head. “I’m fine.”

She studied him. “Something changed.”

He hesitated, then met her gaze. “I don’t want them to beg.”

The elf tilted her head. “Oh?”

Hibiki clenched his fists. “Begging doesn’t mean anything. If they’re weak, they’re already dead.” He exhaled, his voice quieter. “I thought I wanted them to kneel. But… that goblin reminded me of the soldiers who killed my people. He wanted me to feel powerless.” His fingers curled tighter. “I don’t want to be like that.”

The elf was silent for a long moment.

Then she smiled.

“Congratulations.”

Hibiki frowned. “What?”

She pulled out a small leather pouch and tossed it to him. It jingled.

Gold.

Hibiki’s blood ran cold. “You… paid him?”

She nodded. “I hired him to test you.”

His stomach twisted. “You set me up?”

“If you had begged, I would’ve killed you myself,” she said bluntly. “If you had enjoyed the idea of making others beg, I would’ve done the same.”

Hibiki’s breath caught.

She had been planning to kill him?

All this time?

The elf’s expression softened. “Vengeance can turn into something ugly. You needed to face that before it consumed you.”

Hibiki felt something crack inside him.

She had been watching him. Judging him. Testing him.

Not to make him stronger.

But to make sure he was still himself.

The rage simmered down, replaced by something else.

Understanding.

Hibiki looked at the pouch of gold in his hands, then back at her.

And for the first time, he truly understood what she was teaching him.

He wasn’t meant to be a mindless killer.

He was meant to be something far worse.

Something calculated.

Something unstoppable.

A slow smirk spread across his lips.

“I get it now.”

The elf chuckled. “Good.”

Hibiki exhaled, looking up at the sky.

This wasn’t the end of his transformation.

It was just the beginning.

Hibiki stared at the bag of gold in his hands, its weight heavier than it should have been. He clenched his fingers around it, his mind racing.

“So, what now?” he asked, voice calmer than he expected.

The elf smirked. “That depends on you.” She turned away, walking toward the trees. “I’ve taught you how to kill, how to survive, how to think.” She glanced over her shoulder. “But you’re still holding onto something. That hesitation.”

Hibiki exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Maybe I like having a conscience.”

She chuckled. “Do you? Or is it just guilt clinging to you like a dying ember?”

He didn’t answer.

The truth was, he wasn’t sure anymore.

His hatred hadn’t vanished. His desire to see the kingdom burn hadn’t faded. But something had changed.

Back when he first dreamed of vengeance, he imagined himself standing over the bodies of those responsible, their blood staining his hands. He had imagined their terror, their begging, their realization that they had wronged him.

But now?

Now, he saw something else.

He saw the goblin’s face twisted in cruelty. He saw the soldiers from that night, laughing as they cut down his people.

And he realized something.

Begging didn’t matter.

Fear didn’t matter.

The moment someone had to beg for their life, they had already lost.

That meant…

He frowned.

That meant those soldiers never had power over him in the first place.

His parents had died protecting him, not because they were weak, but because they made a choice. A choice to fight. A choice to die on their feet instead of on their knees.

And he?

He had been running, thinking that power came from making others kneel.

He had been wrong.

Power wasn’t about taking away someone’s dignity. It was about making sure no one could ever take yours.

The realization sent a shiver down his spine.

The elf was watching him, waiting.

Hibiki took a slow breath, his fingers loosening around the pouch.

“I’m done being someone else’s test,” he said.

The elf raised an eyebrow.

He stepped forward, his voice steady. “You wanted to see if I was the kind of person who’d enjoy making others beg.” He met her gaze. “I’m not.” His lips curled slightly. “But I’m also not the kind of person who’ll beg either.”

A flicker of something.. approval?.. crossed her face.

“Good.”

She tossed him a dagger. He caught it without flinching.

“Keep that mindset,” she said. “Because from now on, no one’s going to test you. They’re going to try to kill you.”

Hibiki glanced down at the blade.

It wasn’t just a weapon.

It was a promise.

A promise that the next time he fought, he wouldn’t be the one on his knees.

The elf turned, disappearing into the shadows.

Hibiki stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space she had left behind.

Then, without another word, he tucked the dagger into his belt and walked away.

There was still much to learn.

But for the first time, he wasn’t just walking toward revenge.

He was walking toward something far more dangerous.

Control.

And he would take it.

One step at a time.