I reached Irydaen river with only one companion. It was a stunning view, that river. One of the Five Great Rivers that begin in the High Forest. Its other shore a half mile away. Beyond it, the West Marshes extended. The graveyard of adventurers. One day I wish to visit it. Now, it is time to go home.

“Beyond Yr”

Chapter 17, Page 200

Kuravel

Day 7

Zuma

Zuma felt his legs losing strength, he stumbled. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed a branch. That was when the terror began. It turned out to be something else, slick and disgustingly meaty. A tail? A single thought crossed his mind before a rapid motion barreled his way. He should’ve been dead and would’ve been if not for Giliad’s inhuman speed. Zuma was thrown to the side, painfully reminded about the bog worm. Why this keeps happening to me? Luckily, the flight was amortized by a thick bush. Zuma gasped when he saw the monster, which had almost bitten his head off. A large mixture of a crocodile and monkey.

Harvey and Wandering Rain helped him up.

“What’s this?”

“Trouble,” Wandering Rain replied.

“You told us that this hunting ground is supposed to be safe,” Harvey whined and Zuma couldn’t disagree with the bandit. This should be the last stop before they enter Soto this evening (not that Zuma was eager to do so).

Zuma stole a few glances as they started to retreat. The hunting ground turned out to be a patch of the jungle with slightly altered foliage, the composition of the mulch was different, and Zuma found the air to smell and taste more earthly with lower humidity. Wandering Rain didn’t know it this place had a name but its close proximity to Soto made it rather abandoned by humans. That beast was the first predator they’ve encountered since they’d arrived here. And almost killed me. Of us all, it had to be me. Why?

A loud whimper signalized the end of the struggle and a moment later Giliad popped his head between trees.

“Where is the game?”

Wandering Rain made circled his arm around himself.

“It’s hiding. Did you think it will be served on the plate?”

“I wouldn’t complain,” Harvey chimed in.

“Yeah,” Wandering Rain chuckled bitterly. “You should be glad that you didn’t end up on a plate yourself. The Rain Tribe never let anyone who steps into our territory.”

“Is that a threat?” Harvey asked.

Zuma wasn’t surprised by the bandit’s sudden outburst. Their nerves were frayed. The jungle meant to be deadly but it was deadly in the stories of madmen who actually traversed it. Zuma, and surely Harvey, didn’t belong to that kind of people. Hunting with Sul-Tizoca filled Zuma with anxiety. This was worse.

Wandering Rain raised his hands.

“It’s not a threat. I am nothing like my tribe anymore. I like them but I’d rather stay outside the village. In case they thought it a good idea to eat me too.”

Sickness attacked Zuma out of nowhere. He vomited, his stomach cramped. Zuma knew he was dying. Voices of his companions were no longer sharp or close, they sounded muffled by a thick veil.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Shit,” someone swore. Zuma couldn’t recognize the voice but the growl that followed it was clear enough, another beast turned up. He didn’t see it though as the blackness swallowed him.

Giliad

Giliad watched with disbelief as the beast he’d killed walked their way. He’d snapped its thick neck, he’d heard it break! As the Royalblood got closer, his worries were multiplied. It certainly was the same monster, it bored matching scar under its three eyes on its left side.

It growled to assert the ground, but its hind legs prepared to launch an attack. The strange reptile was too fast for its bulk but the Royalblood was faster still. As Giliad predicted, the monster attacked, his jaws wide apart, sharp teeth ready to shred Giliad’s face. He ducked with ease and punched its throat. The monster scowled as bones crunched under the hummer-like punch. It didn’t fall it though. Tough bastard. In the corner of his eye, Giliad noticed unconscious Zuma. What it was now? The rest seemed fine and they’d eaten the same stuff for the last day.

“Get him out of here,” said Giliad. “We’re going straight to Soto.”

After he defeated Butcher, they’d use bandit medicine to check on the innkeeper.

Another two snaps missed Giliad’s head by a solid margin. The monster snarled and his black fur bristled. Then it gave a shake, splattering a green liquid about. Didn’t Zuma touch its tail? Giliad allowed the liquid to drop on his skin. If this was some sort of venom, it shouldn’t harm a Royalblood. The monster withdrew a few steps, its three pairs of eyes drilling Giliad with … intelligence?

“Go away, I have no business with you.”

As expected, the beast didn’t give up, but it hesitated seeing no reaction from Giliad. Then it did something unexpected, it dropped on the ground with a soft squeak. This wasn’t the way predators behaved.

“Giliad!” a shout came from a distance. “I know what these things are! Grots.”

Hearing its name, the oversized lizard opened its eyes. It didn’t move. It didn’t need to. At that time, another one exploded out of a bush. Giliad punched it instinctively and it still wasn’t enough to change the trajectory. They fall to the ground and began struggling. Giliad kept his elbow buried in the creature’s throat. This one was larger and stronger. You wanted training, that’s your chance.

The smaller grot came from behind and sank its teeth in Giliad’s shoulder. He blocked pain immediately lest it overwhelmed him, then used the unwounded arm to deliver a punch. Two eyes exploded, covering him with a sticky substance. The smaller grot grunted with pain, but his jaws were locked. There was nothing else Giliad could do, the smaller grot positioned itself at the end of Giliad’s left arm. He’d have to break his own shoulder to get a better shot. It sounded too complicated and painful. The larger one got up and found Giliad’s blind spot. It came without hesitation. Biting blinding pain that got through Giliad’s blockade, the Royalblood swung the smaller beast into the path of its larger brethren. Wounded by the teeth of a larger one, the small grot didn’t relent its bite. It was more stubborn than Giliad thought possible.

Shouts in the distance warned him that these two weren’t the only grots around. Having less than a second to react, Giliad moved again, keeping the small beast in between him and the large grot. It understood the damage it’d made to its smaller cousin has become wary.

“Let me go and I promise. I won’t kill and eat you.”

His stomach rebelled at the thought of letting the food go, but a prospect of the prolonged fight and wound didn’t appeal to Giliad. The shoulder alone would need a day to heal. And he had to think about his companions. They weren’t Royalbloods. If a grot got them then they were dead by now.

The large grot snarled and started retreating. The young one withdrew its teeth, threatening Giliad’s consciousness. If he lost it now, they’d kill him without hesitation. It’d come to bite them of course. The Royalblood’s blood was magical, causing a plethora of strange chaotic effects. This bite alone would either kill the small grot or make something really unexpected to it. Or it already did. As it stepped backward, its two destroyed eyes were healed. It could be grots’ innate ability, Giliad couldn’t tell. Those things have never come close to Cape Town and the most hunter hadn’t worried about them. These monsters should stay in the Southmarshes.

Not waiting for them to disappear between trees, Giliad shot where his companions had gone and his heart froze. His wounded shoulder didn’t matter all of sudden. Wounded or not, he wasn’t going to defeat twenty fully-grown grots. Some, on their fours, were taller than an adult. Safe hunting ground my ass.

The only good news was that the three men weren’t eaten yet. Grots circled them with flawless coordination.

Many things went through Giliad’s head. One theme was more prominent than others. Giliad’s powerlessness was glaring once more. He stood, knowing he could do nothing to save them. He couldn’t get to his companions before grots.

“Hey! Come, get me!” Giliad called out. Any other predator would take the bite and strode his way. Grots showed a worrisome level of intelligence. They ignored him and kept circling the three men. Annoyed and out of options, Giliad did the only thing he could, he charged them.

At the same time, a scowling monstrosity erupted from amongst the forty feet tall trees, snapping them like twigs.

Chaos descended on them.