After crushing the knight's head, the yeti went over to pee on his corpse, which according to Grimm was a sign of asserting dominance. Soon after though, the yeti went off and what remained was just a peaceful, ordinary looking winter forest. Save for the countenance of a headless, dead knight of course.
Go on, boy. Search that guy's body for his belongings.
"But isn't that… wrong?" Arata asked hesitantly.
Oh, trust me. He won't complain.
Arata's face grimaced. "But I don't want to. It looks gross."
Do it.
Strangely enough, after hearing Grimm's words the feeling of disgust suddenly left the boy, and some odd sense of apathy settled in instead. Still, he wasn't fond of what he was about to do, but remembering the pain Grimm had inflicted upon him not too long ago made him move forward. And so once he'd gotten to the foot of the cliff, he approached the body with his hands covering the eyes, guided mostly by the awful smell of yeti urine that intensified as he got closer.
Arata looked over the body until his gaze fell on the knight's right hand, which was still forming a one finger salute. On the index finger of that very hand, he found a golden ring with runic inscriptions, and a silvery white stone embedded into it.
The ring.
Arata bent over and took the ring off the knight's hand. Once he had put it on, he could feel something shift in his awareness. It felt like something had become available to him but he didn't know how to access it.
"Uhm, I can feel something..."
Lo and behold, the boy became estranged to his own body. It was like Arata himself had sunken into the background. Reduced to a spectator who was looking onto the world from a passenger seat inside his own body whilst it moved without him telling it to. A very odd sensation.
Here you go.
With those words, Arata's body and mind returned to himself. An increased awareness of the golden ring around his finger had set in. And once he started focusing on it, a small field of view appeared in his mind, revealing all kinds of things. Bottles with strange liquids, dried meat, weapons, and so forth. More strangely, the moment Arata focused on one of these things, the ring got hot and they appeared in front of him. After having put on some warm winter pelts, the boy begann chewing on some dry meat, leaving behind the headless knight, the yellow snow around him, and some other things that had come out of the ring since he didn't know how to put them back in.
A few hours, several slices of dried meat, and a good amount of distance later, the boy came to a halt. In front of him was a wide frozen lake. So wide that it wouldn't be worth going around it. And so after testing its sturdiness, the boy kept on going. A few hundred metres out, he suddenly began hearing weird noises coming from the ice. Arata held his breath and looked beneath his feat but there weren't any cracks in the ice either. Instead, there were several horsemen approaching him from behind.
Alone in this foreign world, in the middle of nowhere, Arata's first instinct was to hide or run away. Both turned out as rather difficult in his current situation. Before he could give any more thought to the matter, the riders had already arrived. Five of them in total. All of them were clad in pelt and their horses carried all kinds of luggage.
The horseman on the forefront was a knight in armor. The furthest back were two men with bow and quiver. Each had a blade strapped to one of their legs as well. The remaining two looked completely different from each other. One was a young woman with black hair. Her slightly brown skin stood in a beautiful contrast to her shiny orange-yellow eyes which shone from beneath the hood she was wearing. Her eyes were so captivating they could almost make the array of blades and weapons attached to her body and horse go unnoticed. Her hands looked like claws inside the armoured gloves she wore which invigorated the impression of a deadly beauty.
Even more interesting was the last fellow. An old, below average short man with a pointy hat beneath which only a pair of blue eyes and a protruding nose could be seen in the midst of a bushy grey beard. A bunch of strange looking, rolled up scrolls were peeking out of the many pockets of his robe and backpack that made him appear the most peculiar out of the five.
"Oi. Little one, what are you doing out here?" one of the archers asked, leaning over on his horse.
Arata's heart beat faster. Were they the dead knight's companions?
"We're wasting time. There's no one else who'd be out here anyway. It has to be him."
"Well, if he's wearing one of our pelts, he must've also taken the ring."
"Indeed, but even so, a mere child isn't capable of such a feat. You all smelled the yeti piss, didn't you?"
The grey knight, who in the meantime had gotten off his horse, straightly approached the young boy.
"Show me your hands," he demanded calmly.
Upon seeing the ring, he took it off the boy's finger and inspected it.
"Mhmh."
Naturally, the boy felt a bit pressed. Were they holding it against him for having taken the ring? Surely, they would reckon that he couldn't have killed the knight. The knight's head rose to face the boy again. There were barely any features to be seen from underneath the helmet. It was like a dark shadow was covering the knight's face, shrouding him in mystery.
"How do you know how to access a spacial ring?"
Do not mention us.
"I just put it on and... things appeared in front of me."
"Mh."
"Still. This doesn't explain what a little child is doing in the outskirts. How did he get here in spite of the cold, the monsters and the lack of supply. The fact that he hasn't perished yet makes me suspicious," one of the two archers grumbled.
"We all know about the tales they tell about the beasts in the outskirts, captain." The other archer spat on the ground. "Vicious and cunningly smart creatures…"
"That's right, Dravus! For all we know that kid might as well be some sort of shape shifting monster! Trying to deceive and devour us later on," the other bow man exclaimed.
"In any case," Dravus replied, "Out here we're familiar with the rule: 'Kill first, ask questions later'. That's how you survive in these cursed outskirts. A little bit of empathy, a little bit of pity and there one's life goes."
"I say we get rid of tha-"
"Whatever decision you make, make it quick! Nightfall isn't far off and you know what that means," the orange eyed woman said. Wrapping her pelt more closely around her body, she added, "It's freezing cold too."
"It is," Arata affirmed with shivering jaws.
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With that everyone looked at the knight as he seemed to be the leader of this party.
"We are taking him with us," he said, "Afterwards that guy can decide on what to do with him." He looked at the dwarf. "Landulf. Place a seal on the child, just in case."
Mumbling words foreign to the boy's ears, the dwarf got off his short horse and retrieved an ancient looking scroll from one of the bags attached to it. The dwarf opened it, revealing numerous runic inscriptions on the paper's surface that, as a whole, didn't seem to have any structure. Concentrating on the scroll, he bent down and began drawing something on the ground with his finger. When he had finished, a dark green runic inscription lit up from the ground.
"Come and stand here," the dwarf said, pointing to the green pattern on the ground.
The boy did, after some hesitation, and upon doing so the runic letters beneath him started crawling up his body where they seemed to settle somewhere on his back. He could tell by the sensation that felt akin to having a horde of ants crawl over one's body, but from underneath the skin.
Tsk. I will remember you, pesky dwarf.
With that, the matter had been concluded. The dwarf took the boy up onto his short horse and so they continued setting off over the frozen lake.
Some hours of horse riding later, several sore arses got off horsebacks. The party had found itself in yet another forest. The trees there stood low and dense and were packed with needles. Everyone seemed to know how to proceed and so an out of place looking Arata stood beside and observed. Horses were tied to a tree and fed. Tents were set up. Supplies were checked, weaponry inspected, and over a campfire soup was being cooked in a pot.
"I don't see the midget anywhere," Dravus said. "Is he going to keep watch first?"
"Don't think so." The other bowman took a sip out of his soup bowl. "Took off somewhere into the woods. Murmured words from one of the scrolls he carries. Probably just setting up traps."
"So that woman is taking the first turn, then. What's her name?"
"Don't know." The bowman was on his third bowl of soup now. "Captain probably doesn't know either. At least not her real name."
The grey knight remained silent. He seemed to be simply glaring into the fire, the hilt of his sword leaning against his collarbone.
"Right... assassins. Wonder whose blood she stained her hands with to be sent here." Dravus spat on the ground. "Those fucking bastards. They gave me an ultimatum. Either slave away in the mines of Taraxus or be sent to explore the outskirts."
"Mhh... Taraxus. Yeah, I think you made the right choice, brother," the bowman chuckled. "Although this isn't much more glamorous either."
"Stuck between a rock and a hard place," Dravus replied, emptying the last contents of his bowl into his mouth. "The truth is, no one would be here if not somehow, someway coerced."
"Which makes that child's presence even more peculiar."
"The empire's fanatics sure don't mind being here," a voice came from behind. "Especially, if it's just for sending outcasts, prisoners and scum to their deaths. In any case, we all have a past that lead us to finding ourselves here."
"Landulf," the knight spoke up for the first time and poured the dwarf a bowl of soup.
"Captain." The dwarf received the bowl. "I'm sorry for today's loss. Maybe that silver knight wouldn't have been separated from us if I-"
"Not your fault," the knight cut in, "He had always been overzealous."
"Mh." Landulf sat down and stirred his soup. "I had wanted to ask you for a while but couldn't find an opportune time. For what reason do you happen to be here?"
The knight looked back into the campfire. "Disobeyed orders."
"A dog of the empire?" Dravus asked, his eyebrows rising up. "Must've been quite something for them to discard you like that."
"Especially with the rising tensions between the main powers in Gundua right now," the bowman added, now on his fourth bowl of soup.
An awkward silence followed, filled with the noises of soup being consumed.
"I better get some rest." Landulf got on his feet and looked at Arata. "The boy can sleep in my tent."
Arata, who had just finished his bowl of soup, got up and followed the dwarf. He couldn't make much sense of what had been said but he could feel that Grimm had been listening quietly from within.
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Rakesh made his way through the snow. Moon light that was being reflected off of a landscape covered by snow made for a gorgeously beautiful scenery. The sight of which would've easily found its way into any tourist advertisement leaflet on earth. That is if it hadn't been for the grotesque wolf-like monster which would've served as a bizarre contrast.
Rakesh was a hound. His species would grow several times larger than ordinary wolves from earth, but their appearance was like that of a humanoid wolf. Hounds would commonly walk on all four of their limbs, but if necessary could also walk on just their hind legs for a limited duration of time.This versatility allowed them to make better use of their two front claws which were in fact more deadly than their canines.
The hound was a young one with aspirations to climb the dominance hierarchy in his tribe. For his kind, a noble cause in and of itself. However, to accomplish that he had to prove himself through achievements. Killing some other kind of beast often times sufficed. The larger, stronger and more predatory the prey itself, the better. However, due to recent events this had become difficult.
Humans in their endeavor of expanding their territory into the north had killed lots of beast kin, forcing many to either retreat or fight the invasive force. As a result, his tribe had begun cooperating with other beasts. Something hounds usually didn't do as it limited their diet.
The young hound snorted. Yes, working alongside yetis for instance helped keep pesky humans at bay. But by the moon, the next yeti that he would see pissing on dead prey would pay for it. What a waste of meat. Meat that already had become too scarce. Not that those ignorant omnivores would care...
If only there were some humans in the vicinity. He could take his frustration out on them while also filling his belly. Two sheep with one bite. Actually three. Since that too would elevate Rakesh's position inside of the tribe. But sadly he couldn't sense any. So instead, he continued trudging through the snow, his anger slimly eased by the light the full moon gave off high up in the sky.
Hounds naturally thrived off of the moon. It gave them strength, enhanced their senses, increased their pain tolerance but most importantly amplified their true potential. These effects would generally take place with the occurrence of nightfall, and more so the more the moon was visible. A red moon was even better. In Rakesh's case, the full moon allowed him to conceal his presence, manipulate and alter ice as well as grow stronger the more wounded he became.
After wandering around for some time, the hound came to a standstill. It was very faint, but he could smell the scent of smoke and, he wrinkled his nose, cooked plants? Rakesh stood up.
Humans!
All energy and attention now directed at his sense of smell, he dropped back onto all four of his legs, making his way into the direction from where the scent was coming from. Saliva started drooling from his mouth, as he continued to get closer to the origin of the smell. Prey, this far out in the forest? At night and on a full moon? The hound licked his fangs. These humans must've got a death wish.
The scent became more and more distinctive, alluding that he was heading into the right direction. Rakesh entered stealth mode. His form blurred from a shadow a tree cast onto the next one. From afar, the scent became more prominent with each leap and he could already make it distinguishable.
Horses!
The hound licked his fangs again. Not only did they have much more meat on them than humans, quite frankly said, they tasted better. As all his instincts urged him to slaughter and feast, the hound kept hasting forward until he suddenly snapped out of it and came to a halt in the shadow of a tree. Something was fishy. He couldn't see anything but his hair was standing on edge. Something was telling him that the ground in front of him was better to be avoided. He couldn't tell for sure why but from battle and hunting experience, he had learned to pay heed to his intuition.
Cautiously, the young hound maneuvered around the area that got him to stand on edge. This occurrence repeated itself several more times around various trees, as he got closer to the human camp. Soon enough though, he arrived inside of a tree's shadow from which he could see exactly what he had picked up on. The horses he'd smelled before were standing fairly secluded from the main camp site. There was a camp fire consisting out of a hole dug into the ground with some burning wood inside. About two metres next to it stood several small tents.
For a moment, Rakesh contemplated about just letting his instincts take over. To simply charge into the human's lair, slaughtering anything and everything inside it. Something he surely would have already done if it weren't for a lonely figure, sitting next to the extinguished camp fire.
A 'shell-human' as hounds liked to call them, one of the most peskiest types of humans. Rakesh had only met few of these that were completely clothed in a shell of rock or whatever it was and it had always been a coin flip. They were either rather strong, to the point were even the chief had to get serious in order to kill them or rather weak but still capable of dealing injuries. Now add to that the fact that this one had companions Rakesh didn't know of and the situation turned out to be rather risky.
Weighing his options, a conclusion began forming. Rakesh silently moved to the place where the horses were kept. After extending one claw, he utilized his ice powers to numb the horse's body. Then he poked his claw into its stomach from down under. The horse let out a slightly surprised noise but fell quiet again. With the other claw, the hound caught the blood drops oozing out of the tiny wound before he sealed it with ice again.
He licked the blood droplets off of his claw, and with great self control managed to contain himself and not eat the horse. After that was done, he swiftly got out of the human's vicinity.
Now that he'd tasted the horse's blood, there was no way he wouldn't be able to trace it. Even if it tried to run off to the ends of the world, he'd be able to find it and in turn the entire group of humans as well.