Bandit sat in the branches of the tallest tree for miles around, casting his gaze out over the jungle.

In the distance, a sprawling hillcrest emerged from the canopy, capped by an imposing edifice of white stone. It was the stronghold of the pig-charmer, the shadow tiger he’d come to kill.

Running along one side of the hill was a broad river surging with whitewater. An impenetrable barrier whose current was too swift to cross. Along the other, a deep gorge stretched on for an hour’s journey in either direction, whose lightless depths the tribe had never delved. Where river met ravine, a great waterfall plummeted over the precipice. Bandit listened to its surging roar as he surveyed the ground that would soon become a battlefield, as the falls devoured a portion of the waterway before the river wrapped its way around.

In front of the unobstructed side of the hill, a squadron of giant hogs patrolled the region with unwavering diligence, thanks to the pig-charmer’s mind control. The army that the lemurs needed to eliminate before assassinating the dreadbeast puppet master.

Bandit wished that there was a way to kill the shadow tiger who could dominate the minds of animals without slaughtering the hogs. Not only were the pigs powerful combatants, they hadn’t done anything to deserve this fate. If the tigers hadn’t subjugated them, the hogs would have ascended into beasts within a matter of months, perhaps becoming staunch allies instead of foes. It wasn’t the tribe’s way to slaughter their enemies wholesale, but they had been left with no other choice.

The pigs were strong, though not as powerful individually as the beasts that Bandit had battled on the island of burning rain. But the imminent conflict would still be hard fought, and victory would come only with sacrifice. The hogs were durable and massive, not to mention fearless and impervious to pain while under the tiger’s spell.

At least the pig-charmer’s power was limited. If he was able to control beasts, the tribe wouldn’t have a chance of winning this battle, even if they were immune to the dreadbeast’s ability themselves. Most of the beasts the tribe had met still acted like animals, but some were different. Most notably, the tribe that ran on eight legs and the death that walked on two. Only the shadow tigers seemed to revel in slaughter that had nothing to do with the satisfaction of a full belly, earning them the title of dreadbeast.

Even when untainted tigers killed members of the tribe, it was simply the law of the jungle, despite an animosity that reached back across millennia. But when Bandit had seen how his brothers and sisters had been slain by the dreadbeasts, he knew that his options had dwindled down to three. Fight, run or die.

Thinking about their guts spread across the forest floor, how their deaths must have taken hours while the tigers cut them apart piece-by-piece, filled Bandit with molten fury. But now, now they would pay. It was time for the hunters to become the hunted.

The lemurs and the other awakened beasts would use the powers the Voice had granted them to fight for their place in the new world. And with great power came the responsibility for protecting the animals that hadn’t made the change yet, along with the rest of the living world. Running would lead to the death of the jungle, so the tribe had decided to fight, no matter what the cost.

One of Bandit’s scouts came scampering up the tree to rest upon the same branch. His chattering cries communicated concepts and sensations, rather than the ‘this sound means this thing’ speech that Neek used. Only Bandit and the Elder understood that a voice could be used for more. Sometimes Bandit thought that Neek’s words made sense on a deeper level, following an underlying order that Bandit could almost grasp as new parts of his brain continued to activate and evolve.

He still didn’t fully understand the changes that his people had undergone over the last few months, since that strange day when the Voice had arrived, filling the sky with searing flame and transporting the tribe’s adult population to the surface of another world. Among them was an understanding of complex concepts, such as strategy, tactics, and the effective use of weapons of war. But pondering the matter further would have to wait.

By now, they were neck deep in tiger territory. The advanced team had taken out two more scouts, losing one of their own in the process. The scouts were the weakest and lowest members of the shadow cats’ hierarchy. They had no territories of their own and were forced to guard the domains of the stronger. A flaw in their creed that Bandit would use to break them.

With the tiger scouts out of the way, the support team was able to move into the region, under guard from the heavy hitters, who lacked the agility of Bandit’s assault unit. Their plan was to maintain the element of surprise, killing the tiger king while the other dreadbeasts were away. The tribe didn’t have the strength to take out all the tigers at once. Instead, they would eliminate their strongest and cruelest member, then get out with minimal losses. Their victory wouldn’t end the threat of the shadow tigers by itself, but it would throw the rest into chaos and convince the untainted tigers not to succumb to the dreadbeasts’ corruption.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

Before the lemurs could assassinate the dreadbeast’s king, there was one other battle that had to come first. They couldn’t reach the king’s stronghold with the pig-charmer standing in the way.

The hogs bred rapidly, had sharp senses, and were incredibly durable. The tigers were using them as grunts for their army. There weren’t enough of them yet to guard the entirety of the dreadbeasts’ vast claim, but there were enough to ring the domain of the tiger king, and a few select positions.

Killing the pig-charmer would cause the boars to run wild, removing them from the tigers’ forces and poking a hole in their defenses. With any luck the pigs would turn upon their former masters, taking retribution on their captors the moment they were freed. By the time that the tiger king understood what was really going on, the tribe would be at his throat and their showdown would commence.

Bandit barked out an order and the lemurs began to advance, making their way to the edge of the tree line. The trees had been their home since time immemorial, but today they would leave them and fight upon the ground. The pigs had razed the jungle for miles around. Fortunately, Bandit had ample experience fighting on hillsides, thanks to his trial on the island. Today, the tribe would fight in formation, using the tactics they’d invented and some Neek had taught them, which they had improved on since returning from the island.

It was only possible because of the reward that the Voice had granted them. Weapons and tools suited to the evolving bodies of beasts, subtly different than those made for human hands. With them, the lemurs had begun to develop a range of specializations, roles never before seen in the history of their species.

The Voice had granted them snap-on harnesses that gripped their weapons while they ran. Gear that could repair and maintain itself. Bandit’s forces consisted of several groups of such specialists. They included assault fighters wielding blades, and archers carrying bows designed for creatures that ran on four feet instead of two. There were shield bearers who carried nets, a handful of earth casters and assorted magic users, and the heavy hitters, who wielded a collection of two-handed great clubs and long weapons. The last would be especially important today.

The lemurs didn’t use crude wooden spears like Neek made anymore. The Voice had given them something specifically designed to counter their four-legged foes. Heavy pikes.

Mind filled with thoughts of war, Bandit flung himself from the branches of the last tree and landed on the ground, the noonday sun shining high above. All around him, his brothers and sisters fell into formation. The supply unit helped them with their gear, then retreated into the canopy until the fighting was over.

Without hesitation the lemurs began to march, ready to win this battle and then the war. The hogs would see them any second, but Bandit was determined to draw first blood while they were still scattered across the hillside. He drew in a full breath, opened his mouth, and let loose a battle cry, which was taken up and down the line.

With that, he drew his fang and charged, heading for the first line of hogs ringing the hillside. He could hear pigs wailing as they caught sight of the lemurs. Feel the earth pounding as their massive bodies broke into motion. They were coming. They were still disorganized, but at any moment…

That was when he heard a snarl, filled with venomous hate. Bandit looked up to take in the sight of his target. The pig-charmer had emerged from his den to take control of his forces. Moving the hogs into position would take some time, since he could only issue orders to one animal at once. Bandit locked his gaze upon his enemy, anger gleaming in his eyes. But killing the tiger would have to wait. The first wave of hogs was almost upon them.

The tribe had pressed as far as it could without creating an opening; the battle had truly begun. Bandit cried out an order and the lemurs came to a stop, chittering their support to one another. The shield bearers planted their shields in the dirt while the other units fanned out in a half circle. The pikemen stepped forward, lifting their heavy weapons with bodies that had specialized in raw power. They arranged their weapons between the shields, forming a curve like the back of a hedgehog.

The shield bearers readied their nets, preparing to fling them and then brace for a charge. The earth-casters began drawing mana from the jungle, and hundreds of stones rose from the ground to go dancing over their heads. The bowmen nocked their arrows and took aim, ready to let loose.

The ground shook with the force of the pigs’ charge, a rumble Bandit felt deep in his bones. He could smell the stench of the hogs’ bodies, who no longer took care of themselves like regular animals. Closer and closer they came, until at last it was time.

The moment that they were in range, the lemurs let loose their might, hurling a barrage into the hogs’ teeth. Arrows flew beside nets. Rocks alongside jets of flame. Bandit’s heart raced, the battle only heartbeats away from breaking over him. The tribe’s barrage arced and came down, lancing into the first wave of pigs.

Squeals rang out as the missiles struck flesh, taking down a dozen hogs and wounding many more. But they kept right on coming, trampling their unfortunate brethren without a second glance.

With an impact he could feel in his skull, the first wave of hogs hit the lemurs’ line. Six of them died on the ends of pikes, but the rest kept right on coming, pushing their way past their dying kin. Bandit ordered the pikes to pull back and start guarding the flanks, then stepped into the opening in the lemurs’ formation. It was time for the fang-wielders to shine.

He set his gaze upon a burly black pig that was bigger than the rest, conjuring a fireball while raising his weapon. It was time. His moment had arrived.

Bandit sent his spell streaking toward his foe and then leapt for her throat, blade reflecting the sun high above as he fought for the future of his people.