+++ ???’s Perspective +++
“You’re a capable guy Matthew.” Raphael complimented him once the job had been finished.
Glyake’s company had been escorted back by the hired mercenary and the caravan guard, arriving at the protection zone safely. Bewildered by the convoy’s passive attitude towards the evacuation, Raphael and Thalia took matters into their own hands and were preparing a carriage, further out into the forest path just outside the roadblock. A few of the other civilians who had gotten sick of waiting in the circle were also beginning to exit the circle, feeling their chances were better braving the monster-invested pathways through Scorluk Forest.
The mercenary Matthew had decided to assist the efforts of Raphael and Thalia, while the guard had been ordered to the battlefront by the silver knight. Between him and Raphael, they had managed to get an overturned carriage back onto the open road.
“I’ve done my fair share of grunt work dungeon sweeping.” Matthew gave him a smirk and flexed his biceps. He wasn’t nearly as built as Raphael was, but the lean muscle spoke volumes of his work as a mercenary.
“You two.” Thalia called from the back of the wagon where she had already begun to remove the previous owner’s luggage, “Harness up the horses. We don’t have time to stand around.”
Despite the general urgency of the situation the two men had a chuckle at Thalia’s relentless attitude towards her duty.
“Is she always like this?” Matthew whispered.
“Oh you should see her when Saphira tries to sneak out during the night. I didn’t even know a woman’s face could be that red!” Raphael answered back humorously. Their joking demeanor was reprimanded when Thalia gave them a cold stare back, as if she heard what was being spoken of her.
“Get. To. Work.” She enunciated each word with such clarity it would make an old nun proud.
“Yes ma’am.” Both men gave her a salute and got back to work with a small grin on their faces.
They couldn’t help but think that things were starting to look promising. It’s not often that one experiences a monster swarm, it would surely make for a fantastic story at the tavern when they got out alive.
Though their optimistic thoughts didn’t last long, as a wave of negative energy hit them straight on.
+
“My lord. Are you alright?” Hubert rushed to assist the shaken Glyake who had collapsed similarly to many of the evacuees in the protection circle.
“Ha...” Glyake stood up, knees still shaking from the sudden shock, “Thank you Hubert... Are the children okay?”
“Belserai had some difficulties but they are otherwise unharmed. Thalia is tending to them.” Glyake confirmed his knight’s statement through a glance over his shoulder. The reserved household knight Calidra had huddled the children up with a worried look upon her freckled face. The children, thank goodness, seemed mostly unaffected.
“I see.” Glyake composed himself, taking deep breaths. He had been trained to keep his emotions stable, but the rapidly panicking group of people was enough to get his nerves on edge, “Hubert what was that?”
“I apologize my lord. I have never experienced something like that before.”
“Whatever it was, the protection circle is no longer safe. We should leave before it is further compromised.” Glyake relayed his orders with confidence, “Let reconvene with Thalia.”
“But my lord, the protection circle is all that is keeping the wild beasts attacking. We should wait for Thalia to return to us.” The knight voiced his protests against moving onto the open road where they could be ambushed at any time.
Glyake contemplated the advice from his aide before a loud scream tore through the camp. Out of the corner of his eye Glyake witnessed the moment when a robed caster was impaled by dark stone shards from a wolf-like monster.
The pair hadn’t noticed, but the dim golden barrier surrounding the encampment had disappeared when the wave of dark mana washed through it.
But that wouldn’t even be the biggest surprise right now, for Glyake had just seen with his own eyes something gravely concerning.
“H-Hubert... did that Wolfenhil just use... attack magic?” Glyake stood still, not quite believing what he just saw. Yes, there do exist monsters that use magic, but those creatures are both immensely powerful, and few in number. A comparatively ordinary creature like a Wolfenhil was several dozen ranks below what is needed to be an intelligent magic caster.
Yet here he stood, eyes wide as the impossible tragedy unfolded before him. The wolf monsters pounced, ripping through the crowd and attacking the helpless travelers. The sound of flesh tearing and bones cracking filled the air as the monsters viciously tore into their prey. The survivors screamed in terror and agony as they tried to fend off the beasts but those remaining few that could fight were skewered to pieces by the same dark stone shards that killed the first priest.
“MY LORD! We have to go!” Hubert screamed at his dumbstriken liege to run, snapping him out of his trance. Glyake ran towards Calidra, who already had a fainted Gabriel on her back, and scooped up a crying Saphira in his arms. Hubert took care of Belserai and the three of them sprinted as fast as their legs could carry them towards the main road.
Behind them was a massacre. Blood spurted everywhere as the wolves mauled their victims, tearing off limbs and gouging out eyes with claws and spells alike. As the tents caught fire, the smell of burning flesh mixed with the stench of blood as the Wolfenhils tore through the camp in an uncontrollable frenzy.
They were no longer ordinary beasts.
They belonged to the Slaughter Hound’s pack.
+++ Sylvestra’s Perspective +++
I knew she was not normal.
When I first laid eyes upon her in Hartford city back in Avenstron, despite the sorrow I was feeling, my instincts intimated to me that she was no mere captive. The piercing gaze that met mine conveyed a sense of agency and intentionality, which was far removed from the disposition of one ensnared by the perils of slavery, no, those were the eyes of someone who was there by choice.
As her lips parted into a smile towards me, I was struck by the realization that it was not merely the smile of a person, but rather that of a creature who regarded thirty armed bandits as mere trifles, incapable of even leaving a scratch upon her.
Prisilla notified us that she detected an unusual odor emanating from the girl, which led her to suspect a malady had befallen her, though it soon became apparent that the scent in question was of a nature altogether. Something unfamiliar to both her and the physicians of Derick Dale.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“What... is even going on. How is she... What is she...? The flummoxed tone of the convoy captain, Jaggeroth, solidified my beliefs. As he turned to us, he voiced a question that all of us were asking.
“Hey that was a little girl right? You all saw that? I’m not going insane am I?” The scene before us was enough to make even a hardened adventurer question his sanity.
Nyxarus was locked in combat with what was once Nina. Her pale body was now adorned with strange markings, while four ghastly tendrils protruded from her back, writhing and contorting like the grasping limbs of a kraken. Her movements were frenzied, as if propelled by a manic energy, with lightning-fast lunges and stabs aimed squarely at Nyxarus, leaving trails of destruction in their wake. The tendrils, tearing up the ground as easily as one might shred paper, wreaked havoc upon the steel carriage the Fenrir stood upon, reducing it more and more to piles of scrap metal with each passing swing. Her sharpened teeth seemed to tear pieces off the demon whenever she got close.
It was true that the Slaughter Hound had already suffered grievous injuries prior to the fight - its entire lower half of its torso and half of its face were missing, and it stood precariously on only one front leg, spilling shadows from its wounds in every direction.
But nonetheless this was a demon.
An infernal entity birthed from the limitless power of the primal forces, with a sole purpose of causing destruction. Even an army would struggle to distract it, and standing alone against such a creature was unheard of, save for the fairy tales of the legendary heroes of old.
Despite the rational part of my mind insisting that it was impossible, I remained rooted to the spot, watching in awe as the fearsome Fenrir was forced to retreat under the relentless barrage of savage, pale tendrils. Even the creature's fur, bristling with an unholy power, seemed to vibrate with a dark aura each time it was struck.
In utter disbelief, the young priestess who had safeguarded us from the initial umbral wave uttered, "I can hardly believe my own eyes. Is she... absorbing the Umbralflux emanating from the demon? How can this be possible?" Her words resonated with the stark reality unfolding before us as Nyxarus ripped off an ashen limb, only to have it regenerate instantaneously. Meanwhile, the once child-like Nina, now transformed into a writhing, otherworldly creature, screamed in unrelenting agony.
“Gah!” Distracted by the battle between the monsters, Jaggeroth exclaimed in pain as he was struck in the back by shards of dark stone, “Which damn mage hit me?”
I swung my head towards the direction of the assault but what stared back at us was no mage, it was the Wolfenhils that had gathered upon the sides of the clearing and they were shooting magic at us.
“Oh for the love of...” The convoy captain didn’t even seem surprised anymore and I couldn’t blame him. “Combatants! To me!”
I and the weary adventurers still able to fight took our battle stances as the pack of frenzied Wolfenhils charged towards us, mindlessly throwing themselves into our formation with claws and spells alike. They numbered far fewer than before as we had culled a horde prior and I previously had no issues slicing them to pieces, but as my dagger was repeatedly stopped by a magical stone coating around their hides, I realized that these beasts were now a problem.
“Sir! We can’t hold them!” I heard a voice informing us of our rapidly deteriorating position.
“Damnnit! It’s that stupid Fenrir! What are the chances we can hold off these pests until that crazy pale outlander can finish it off?” Jaggeroth’s query was met with a response from an unexpected source, as a resounding crack echoed through my ears. A gray sledgehammer smashed into a nearby Wolfenhil, flattening it against the dirt like paste.
“None.” I looked up to the bronze guardian towering over me. The voice was higher pitched than I expected, was she a half-giant? Or perhaps a goliath? “The girl has no chance. The Slaughter Hound is just waking up. We must leave.”
Upon the guardian’s grim prediction, my attention shifted to my dear child, Alfy, who had collapsed in agony, retching up a sickly mixture of food and blood. It was a symptom of excess mana exertion, and my heart could not help but ache with concern.
“Alfy, stay strong.” I addressed my cherished child with tender words of encouragement. Despite his usual calm and collected demeanor, I knew he was contrarily headstrong and impulsive, often refusing to listen to me. He always tries to shoulder burdens too much for his age, always attempts to comprehend the complexities of the world beyond his years. His words were much too sharp and his actions far too reckless.
But he was my pride and joy. Truly.
With my fervor renewed, I brandished my daggers and sprung forward with a fierce determination to carve a path through the horde of savage beasts that stood between us and safety.
+++ ???’s Perspective +++
Jaggeroth stood in awe as the verdant rogue's daggers sliced through the Wolfenhils with a graceful ferocity, like a tempest of emerald wind and deadly steel.
Was everyone hiding powers in this convoy? He promised himself that next time he won’t take the suspiciously high paying jobs from the guild again.
“Can you walk, kid?” The beastman asked the empty-eyed child.
“Y-Yeah.” Alfon muttered a hollow response.
They had nearly forced their way out of the clearing until.
RGHAWOOOO!
Boom!
A rending beam of dark energy struck the pale girl, who had been restraining the Slaughter Hound, with brutal force. The impact was more ferocious than anything the demon had unleashed before, and Nina was launched into the woods, shattering trees in her wake as she flew further than Jaggeroth could see.
“Nina!” Alfon shouted.
“Oh sh*t.” A chill went down his spine as the demon’s single eye, now fully open, turned towards them.
“Time is up,” The bronze guardian declared, her voice filled with urgency. Her enormous sledge hammer thundered against the ground, causing walls of earth to surge up beside her. “Go,” she gestured to the remaining adventurers, “I will hold them.”
“Zorana, what the hell are you saying?” The priestess was hysterical, nearly dropping Helena, who she was carrying on her back, “You can’t! You have to come with us.”
“It is an honor. To die in glorious combat.” The guardian lifted her sledgehammer as the Slaughter Hound drew near, shadows assisting its advance, standing tall despite missing three legs, “An honor to protect the innocent.”
“Zorana you... you...” The priestess stuttered as she could not believe what she was saying. She pleaded for her to reconsider, “Please... you can’t. You said you would stay with me forever.”
“I am sorry Lirien.” With a heavy heart, the guardian expressed her apologies to Lirien, her sorrow evident even through the clanking of her weathered armor. “It is my duty.”
“You liar! Scoundrel! Deceiver!” The priestess started screaming profanities even as she was being held back by the remaining adventurers.
“You.” Her head bent down to look at Jaggeroth.
“Uh.” The beastman was caught off guard, “Me?”
“Protect her. Do not look back.” Zorana swung her hammer as the remaining Wolfenhils started charging at her. The impact cracked the skull of the beast despite its magical enhancements in Nyxarus’ Umbralfield.
The convoy captain scratched his ears in frustration and made an order: “You lot heard what she said. Get the hell out of here and to the evacuation grounds! We’ll save as many as we can!” As the group nodded and started making their way out, Jaggeroth led the blonde haired child to his mother, “You get safely okay kid?”
“I-I’m...” Alfon was on the verge of tears, “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” Sylvestra, still out of breath, knelt down to give him a tender hug, careful not to get blood on his tunic.
“You’re not to blame Alfy.” She muttered softly.
“Listen to your mom, kid. You did your best. Unlike that coward Hirlicind. Tch.” Jaggeroth gave him a thumbs up before watching the adventurers leave. Carrying a struggling priestess with them.
“Let me go...” He heard the protests of the girl as they carried her away.
Sigh.
Where did it all go wrong for him?
The demon was making its way slowly towards them, as if enjoying the sight it was seeing. Perhaps the rumors of its powers were overblown, if it even struggled with dealing with their group perhaps Hirlicind’s knights could get the evacuees out in time.
“What are you. Still doing here?” The guardian was surprised that Jaggeroth had stayed back with her.
“Captain goes down with his ship, don't you know that?” The beastman readied his claws. “Let’s make this guy bleed.”
The two of them engaged the Slaughter Hound with a warrior’s zeal, but where they expected to make contact with fur and flesh, they instead found shadow as their weapons passed through it. Jaggeroth's horror mounted as he saw Nyxarus' single eye gleaming with sadistic pleasure, reveling in the futility of their efforts.
Crunch!
The demon's monstrous jaws, the size of a tree trunk, ensnared the guardian from the side and clamped down with tremendous force. Zorana's armor gave way, shattered into fragments as the demon thrashed her around in its mouth.
Jaggeroth lunged at the Slaughter hound, but just like before his claws struck nothing but a dark smoke-like energy.
“Dammit let her go!” He roared in frustration as pieces of her flesh and pools of her blood fell onto him from above.
Just as all seemed lost, a blur of movement caught the corner of Jaggeroth's eye. Turning his head, he saw a lithe figure darting towards the demon from behind.
It was the cat girl he had seen before at the table, her fur tattered and glowing red lines running through her bare skin, her eyes gleaming with a crazed determination. In her hands, she wielded a sinister halberd, the weapon radiating a hungry aura.
“One.”
With a powerful leap, she soared towards Nyxarus, the halberd aimed straight for the demon's back. The blade bit into its hide as the Fenrir howled in fury, dropping Zorana with a loud thud.
“Two.” The agile figure landed before them gracefully, her weapon dripping black blood, her breathing heavy, and her legs shaking. “Only Two nya? I expected more.”