Osias had loved nothing better than to be of use, slowly becoming stronger. Even back in the Band in his time away from Garm’s chambers, he had loved to sit and listen to the warriors of the Band talk, from the common Blood Warrior boasting their strength to the old grizzled ones of the Second Ordeal rattle on of their exploits North.

And yet that was back in the Band. Barred from battle in case of delaying the continuation of the tattoos, Osias was held away from the only thing he was made for.

“You stay back — a Second Ordeal.”

Then, a deep creaking and ripping sounded as far along their line of sight.

The trees were felled as if they were opening up a clearing for the Path Beast's wicked majesty.

And from the new clearing, a great behemoth of a beast was revealed. Black stripes slashed its thick grey fur.

A maw permanently stretched in a wicked glee, as though it was overwhelmed in delight at the appearance of the two brothers.

But most importantly… was the handful of beasts that it towered over. Each of them was too contorted and warped in their appearance to be natural, yet didn't radiate the same dread as their master.

“They'll focus their efforts on me. I'll force the large one away so they won't pounce at the weak link of our chain.”

“I know, I know! So I have to deal with the ‘fodder’?”

Kiran pondered at the remark. The boy has already done much. He studied Osias from head to toe, “Injured…”

Then he looked at their enemies.

Small one-eyed bastardly creatures jumped and danced as they huddled around the feet of the large one.

It was hard to imagine these little ones as First Ordeal beasts, it seems that even the essence within them was barely above the threshold of an Ordinary. With a heavy sigh, Kiran came to a conclusion for the boy:

“Osias I'll leave you an injured one. But if any other stragglers escape me to pounce on you, I won't be able to help you.”

With a slight pause, he added one last thing as he came close to Osias:

“The boar took a toll on you.”

Reaching for his short blade, Osias saw a small splinter break off Kiran's spear, only to be filled again by the rest of the crimson mass.

The fragment… it touched the edge of his blade, and slowly coated all over.

No more did his short blade possess the glint of steel, but now the wicked glare of dark crimson.

“It'll depend on yourself, but it may take only a single blow.”

And then Kiran was off, meeting the titan in battle, great spear in hand.

And just as his brother said, almost all of the small ones raced after the rushing human.

But Kiran met them first. He easily cut down a tree, toppling it over the titan and dispersing the little ones.

Only for the titan to swipe the falling tree aside, only grazing one of its followers.

Regardless, Kiran’s first goal was done. The followers of this Second Ordeal beast rushed ahead to Kiran’s feet, rabid for blood. Vicious snarls unbefitting their size sounded as they sawed through Kiran’s black cloak and into his legs.

Yet their bodies seemed especially weak, not even penetrating the battle-hardened Kiran who now circled the group of beasts.

Kiran violently whipped his spear, bringing it to a swift thrust from afar, piercing the hide of the titan.

‘There it is!’ Osias thought.

Kiran began to lead the large one away along with the horde of First Ordeals.

Rushing ahead, Osias urged himself to finish the staggered one Kiran left behind. It was supposed to be an easy affair, finishing off an injured Path Beast — Osias had a weapon he suspected to be of the limit of the First Ordeal, just a step away from the Second.

‘Just one swing he said.’

Taking his short sword with one hand to his side, Osias swung his sword in a killing arc at the teeth-bared beast, his edge tipped to sever its ugly single-eyed face in half.

But the beast pivoted in a bestial fury, with such speed it outpaced the boar earlier. Perhaps not, had the boar run up a charge, but such a small beast maneuvered well in this small distance.

Osias knew that if Kiran was willing to leave it injured, then it being whole of flesh would maul him.

Moving with his blade, Osias was undeterred, his blade’s edge still hunting for heads. He caught a vicious claw as he turned his blade and in the next moment, hammered down at the desperate beast.

His blade caught the edge of its nape, flinging a small cut of its flesh and blood along with the swing. But it only increased the fervor of his foe.

‘My blade… seamless, the beast’s flesh has no give.’

Osias kept in his mind, that the need for one well-timed strike was all it took to kill the bastard was all it took for him to fall as well.

But just then as he prepared another swing, his arms… waivered slightly.

Weakness attacked his muscles and joints, even spreading to his mind as his thoughts grew heavy.

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‘Venom?’ He thought, almost immediately adjusting himself as he halted his attack.

‘Even so, it is weak!’

Rearing his blade back, he chose to engage with more fervor, matching the vigor of the beast. Weaker and slower, Osias knew full well that in terms of strength and speed he was already at a disadvantage before being introduced to the venom. Such was the way of beasts and humans.

With a blade in hand and a mind at work, he’ll slay the audacious beast. Rushing ahead, he chased down the scammering beast. Yet just as he chased it for a few paces, the beast abruptly planted itself and turned to pounce at the approaching Osias, eager to claw off his arm.

But just as it did so, Osias brought his blade forward, blocking most of the barred teeth and claws. He angled it gracefully as he was side-by-side with a great tree, intuitively using it as protection in the split moment.

The force of its leap staggered him, and the pain made him grit his teeth. It was perplexing, how an injured beast the size of a mutt could lurch the emboldened Osias, but he pushed the needless thoughts aside.

Miming a smile, Osias pushed off the beast and put more of his arm, braced with a show of essence, into a vicious swing.

Osias’s short sword sliced at its large eye, and beyond as it cracked its skull instead of slicing through – his inexperience showing. The sword followed into the exposed roots of the tree as the battered body of the beast was crushed against it in a bloody mess.

Clutching his bleeding forearm, Osias grimaced in pain. As he blocked its wild jump, it reached around the short sword, after all, it wasn’t too broad.

Its venom was a different pain than he was accustomed to. Fortunately, it wasn’t too strong, something that couldn’t even topple an Ordinary.

So it was odd that the Second Ordeal beast even kept these little ones alongside it. Their venom was too weak for the Second Ordeals to benefit from. Anything that could be affected by such weak venom was bound to be slaughtered by the Second Ordeal beast anyway.

Osias thought to relay this information to Kiran but found it to no avail. Kiran was sure to know of this. And besides, he’ll only be in the way if he revealed himself amidst Kiran’s battle. It simply wasn’t his place.

But even so, all Osias could only wonder as he wiped down his blade using the fallen beast’s fur.

‘Was that it?’

Suddenly, a chorus of roars bellowed in the distance — the same roars he recognized even across the Heron's mountain.

‘Brother…’

—

“Bastards!” Kiran swung his glaive — a change made prior to the battle. A savage two-handled blow that threatened to split the beast in two just barely missed. The fleeing First Ordeal mutt whisked away as Kiran clicked his tongue.

Before Kiran was a morbid scene, dozens upon dozens of fallen beasts lay in his wake. Second Ordeals included.

Kiran thought he led them far away from Osias, a pack of only a measly Second Ordeal and its followers. The bunch weren’t strong for their level, their capabilities were an illusion to their weakness. The Second Ordeal beasts’ battle strength was a little below average. All it took was a trifling swipe of his blade to tell.

But it seemed that the entire Northern face of the mountain was infested, swamped with these dog-like beasts. They propagated and sowed like dogs.

Kiran wished nothing more than to escape and reunite with Osias. He knew nothing of his brother’s condition as he left to the Northern face.

‘No… I didn’t leave for this place. They led me here.’

The dogs slyly pointed his direction North despite the chaos as he slaughtered them. Even the Second Ordeal contributed to the sly scheme.

But even so, Kiran did not expect a grand horde to appear and rapidly approach.

Such a horde would decimate any village — no, even besiege and annihilate a fortress.

Kiran immediately circled around in retreat. A horde that consisted of what could have been a hundred dreaded hounds could butcher Kiran — Blood Mend would only help sate their hunger had he fought.

The First Ordeals couldn’t even pierce his skin, but the Second Ordeals numbered in the dozens. They would hound him in their madness within seconds. Black-frothed mouths and vicious maws lined with piercing teeth — there was a limit to how well Kiran could keep his distance against an army of equally sized foes.

So he fought through the encirclement. Even if it brought them chasing in a frenzy toward where Osias was, Kiran needed to find out how he fared.

‘It was supposed to take… a few minutes at most.’ He thought as many bite wounds closed abruptly, Blood Mend activated.

Peeling his broad-headed glaive off the countless sticky corpses of the smaller ones he continued to fight through.

‘The smaller ones. They strengthen this pack… horde. They were bred in some way to be nothing more than tools of the those above. The venom was pitiful, almost worthless on its own. It only serves to increase the output of the type the Second Ordeals has.’

Poisons and venoms were insidiously effective against Kiran. He couldn't just erase it. The moment his flesh blackened and bled, he healed. Teeth clenched tightly, he bore the pain just like always.

Every thought was bought with pain, but that was the way of the world; a man must fight to live.

Beheading a frenzied beast, he bolted through the opening just as a Second Ordeal sought to cleave his rear foot with its teeth.

But it simply met the butt of his glaive’s shaft, now firmly strengthened to the Second Ordeal’s limit. Kiran was diligent in his True Extraction.

If there was anything worth losing his hand for in this battle, then it was him raising his weapon to this level — it was rare to be privy to such plentiful resources. Path Beasts of this caliber and number were rare outside the Outer Valleys.

However, the mutt opened wide, biting down with enough force that threatened to shatter the shaft’s end. But it held, only wet cracks seeped in black dribble were left as its jaw let go.

Despite the weapon bearing a higher strength than the beast, the difference wasn’t absolute, far from it.

Finally breaking through the clearing with several Second Ordeal hounds cackling and howling from behind, Kiran dashed forward, never stopping.

He lost a large patch of his shoulder as well as a hand, severed at the wrist. Splotches of blood and the slashes of claws littered his hulking figure. But none of these dreaded wounds bled out, already beginning to close and regrow anew.

‘Damned Outer Valleys. We're not even beyond the Reach and we came upon mountains full of these monsters.’

Weaving through trees and thick undergrowth, finally found traces of a small battle. Blood splattered and marked the ground. A withered Path Beast with its head caved in was left, but Osias was nowhere to be found. Kiran surveyed the scene finding the foul black blood and thought:

‘Poisoned.”

With the Second Ordeals mere moments behind his trail, Kiran’s mind raced as he guessed where his brother was.

‘He couldn't have missed the bellows and cackles of these hound-like beasts, much less the felled trees and quaking ground.’

‘The ridge. The ground we cleared. It’d be foolish beyond compare for him to wander ahead towards the danger.’

Kiran’s eyes followed South, there he discovered the shallow footprints headed for the ridge. He could only praise the child for his wits. Despite his age, he wasn't making this journey North difficult, even growing and maturing quickly as they moved.

Slowly Kiran’s face twisted into a half-scowl as he tried to recall something important:

‘How old was he again?’

He’ll ask him later, pushing the thought aside as a group of three Second Ordeals caught up to him. Brandishing his crimson broad-headed glaive, his long grey hair streaked with black danced in the forest’s flowing air of the approaching hounds.

A violent series of slashing, cutting, and piercing and the small group of rabble were slaughtered, Kiran’s glaive a silent witness to the final cackles of the gleeful hounds. Another heap of flesh was bitten off his thigh, left blackened and bubbled, but time was all that was needed for the poison to disperse.

‘Even still… There's still that sow.’ He thought with a full scowl as he wiped the smeared blood off his blade.

Far, far North of this mountain, just before it begins to descend and slope to the mist, was a Third Ordeal.

Kiran caught a fleeting glimpse of her, these cackling mutts’ broodmother.

Large. Larger than anything Kiran has seen. She towered above the canopy of trees despite her sitting atop a lowered slope. Like a queen protected by her warriors, they lorded over this mountain.

Dozens of Second Ordeals and what could've been hundreds of the First Ordeal…

‘Back to Osias first.’ Kiran thought, already headed back for the ridge.