Following along the mountain ridge path that led to the next region, the expeditionary force led by Jortus appeared as though they were treading upon the spine of a great beast.

The Dragonspine Ridge, as it was called, had a peculiar feature where a series of rocky spires jutted out from the center of the mountain ridge all across from one end to the other in a seemingly uniform distance from each other. From a distance, it gave one the impression that they were the spines on the back of a great reptilian beast, hence; it was given the name, Dragonspine Ridge.

And this ridge was the only path that led to Noctalum, the next region or as others would call, the next “layer”.

The reason is due to Prismordia’s regions being separated by elevation. At the end of Primsor Woods, a massive cliff that seemed to expand with no end in sight separates it from Elgrex at the bottom. On the other hand, upon reaching the depths of Elgrex, a similar cliff-face would be found with Noctalum being at the top.

It is uncertain if another cliff-face would be found at the end of Noctalum, but one thing’s for sure and it’s that the shadow of something massive can be faintly seen from afar.

As the group continued onward along the ridge, Loen couldn’t help but feel that something was strange.

“It seems that you’ve noticed as well, Loen.”

Hearing Jortus’ confirmation, Loen nodded. They’ve been traveling for hours on the ridge, yet they’ve encountered no other living creatures.

“It’s one thing to be a barren rocky path, but for it to be free of even birds or any flying creatures since our trek began…”

Jortus nodded in affirmation. “Indeed. The most concerning thing is that we’ve yet to encounter any wild fae. We’re well past their favorite hangouts and any further is the territory of rock wyverns that make these “spines” their homes.”

“And yet, even those beasts have yet to show themselves…,” said Loen, gravely.

Those more learned within the expedition had looks of concern upon listening to the conversation and seeing the situation. Rock wyverns were small to medium sized flying reptilian beasts that formed flocks of twenty to thirty individuals and lived high up in rocky spires or cliff faces. They were usually a common sight in the cliff regions of Elgrex and Noctalum including Dragonspine Ridge, and yet the entire expedition has not encountered a single individual since they’ve entered the ridge.

What’s more worrying was that although they were cautiously territorial creatures, not a single one had shown up to observe or harass the expeditionary force despite their threatening numbers.

What’s more…

“Everyone, stop.”

Before the expedition was heavy fog that seemed to gradually encroach towards them.

“Seems a bit off season for heavy fog to be around at this time of year.”

“Not only that, look…”

As Loen pointed out, the fog seemed to only follow along the ridge. It didn’t expand outward to the sides as though it didn’t want to go over the edge. In an eerie fashion, the fog slowly approached them as if it had a will of its own.

“So, the reach of our foes has come this far.” scoffed Jortus. With a wave of his staff, the air around them spun and formed a swirling vortex.

‘Oh, spirit of wind, scatter all before me.’

A chant rang out not from Jortus, but as though from a disembodied voice bearing his own from all around them.

The wind continued to gather and formed a massive sphere before them – visible from all the vapor and debris that have gathered within its flow.

“Blow it away!”

With a spirited call, Jortus motioned his staff towards the fog. The sphere of wind launched itself and upon contact with the fog, became a powerful gale that blew against it, causing it to recede and eventually fade away.

What was revealed was an army of desiccated husk-like entities that bared no uniformity. Each one showed that they were different but familiar creatures of the wood, albeit withered away with shrunken flesh like ghouls.

“That is a sight I never wanted to see again. To think the Bloodless Horde stands before me once more…” said Jortus; a solemnness in his tone. “For them to be here would mean that the Red King is spreading his forces in order to incorporate as many blooded creatures into his army as he can.”

In the meantime, Loen called out to the expedition to head to their positions and prepare for a fight.

“Seek the hounds that emit the fog! They are the Hounds of Rot and are what maintains and sustains their forces!”

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While the pressure Jortus emitted grew as he prepared another spell, he continued.

“And… beware the skeletal fiends with sworded fingers! They are the Bloodhunters and the deadliest of the horde!”

Just as Jortus had warned, a creature just as he had so described stood out from the center of the horde. With all eyes on it, it suddenly let out a bloodcurdling high-pitched roar that riled the horde into a frenzy.

“So you think it wise to simply charge us head on with your numbers,” said Jortus as the magical pressure he emitted caused the very air to shake. He then stood at the forefront with a fearsome smile on his face.

“Very well. I shall show you beasts once more what it means to cross this old mage.”

***

The changeling was a little more than perturbed. It never expected that the primati were actually more interested in the little green humanoid that was in its care.

It couldn’t sense any hostility directed towards them, but it could still feel that they were all incredibly agitated for some reason. It was odd enough that the red primatus chose to ignore it even though it presented itself as the leader of their pack, but what was weirder was that it dropped what seemed to be a withered plant before the little green one.

The changeling decided to wait and see before it decided to take any action. It wouldn’t do any good to try and agitate the primati any further as they were already quite unpredictable. However, should it find anything harmful or untoward done to its little companion, it will act.

And no sooner than it thought this, the entirety of the troupe suddenly went into an uproar. This happened when it noticed that its little green companion somehow managed to revive the earlier dried-up plant. It was already incredible that it could manipulate the vegetation around them during their journey, but never did it think it had the power to revive dead plant matter. What was dead normally stayed dead, and even itself didn’t have the power to resuscitate a creature that had already lost its vitality.

It would have liked to see more of its companion’s abilities further if it weren’t for what the red primatus tried to do next.

Seeing its little companion cry out in fear while the red primatus reached for it with its massive hand, once more something snapped within the changeling. In a flash, the changeling grabbed onto the red primatus’ arm, and while it was stunned from what happened, the changeling threw a punch that sent it flying.

…or at least that should have been what happened.

To the changeling’s surprise, the red primatus - while it did receive the punch to its face; somehow managed to catch the changeling’s arm with its other three limbs, and was able to slow some of the punch’s momentum.

Revealing its bloody nose from behind the fist, its expression was nothing short of pure rage.

The changeling tried to pull back its arms, but the primatus held on tight, proving its size and appearance weren’t for show. In a reverse, the primatus easily pulled onto the changeling’s arms whipping it forward, pulling it towards its own readied fist.

It would have been dangerous if the primatus were to be able to connect its attack, so in an act that stunned the primatus once again, the changeling transformed once more in midair into its titanic form. Carrying with it the momentum of being pulled into the air, it instantly grew another pair of arms and threw one enlarged fist.

Unable to react in time, the red primatus caught the fist with its face once more, and this time got smashed into the ground; cratering the earth.

The tremor was felt by the entire troupe, stunning them into silence. The primati never expected the strongest of the troupe below the Tyrants to have been beaten. Just as their cries died down, the body of the red primatus stirred.

It slowly got up and turned towards the changeling; its face bloodier than before, but its anger still apparent. In a strange pose, it reared the two largest of its arms as though it were going to throw a punch. An odd clicking or snapping sort of sound rang out from its knuckles just as it had formed fists.

The changeling immediately knew this was the mechanism it was after from these species. On the large four-armed species, four large barnacle-like shelled protrusions grew out of the knuckles of the two larger arms. This was the species’ deadliest attack. Whenever it “cocked” its knuckles, it means it’s readying to unleash those “hidden” weapons.

Most enemies would be caught by surprise from this high-power attack, but this was the “weapon” that the changeling had been after. It was fully prepared to take it head-on.

Without warning, the primatus suddenly charged at the changeling.

With an action that would force its opponent to make a rash decision and put it in a situation that would let it use its signature attack, it was actually a good plan. But it was only good if the opponent didn’t expect it.

In an action that would surprise the primatus again, the changeling charged forward as well. Surprised at first, the primatus continued with the thought that it was a good situation as it could unleash its attack sooner.

As soon as the changeling was within its range, the primatus chose to unleash its payload. As though unleashed from a spring, the two massive fists swung forward followed by an explosive burst. Within its massive fists were stored pellet-like calculi that could be fired from the protrusions on its knuckles. At point blank, its power was tremendous and could easily turn most opponents into ragged pieces of flesh.

…but that’s only if the attack were to connect.

As soon as its attack was fired, the changeling had disappeared from its view. It never anticipated that its opponent would avoid the attack at the last moment before it struck. Such an action of avoiding an attack at the last moment requires willpower and determination that most beasts wouldn’t possess, yet somehow the creature before it possessed the capacity to do so. This was something the primatus had never come to experience.

Faced with that determination, not only did its attack fail, but the opponent was given the perfect opportunity to retaliate. From below with momentum from the charge, the changeling immediately threw an uppercut. In the blink of an eye, the fist struck through under the primatus’ chin with enough force that a powerful cracking sound resounded throughout the area.

This time, the primatus was sent flying with enough force that it caved the earth in the direction it was thrown; right before the white Tyrant.

The Tyrant stared at the fallen primatus and remained quiet as though waiting for something. Soon enough, the fallen primatus choked and coughed up some blood, then weakly started breathing.

The white Tyrant, Oneris, as though confirming something, made a nod and gave out a call.

A couple of similar looking but smaller primati picked up and carried the red primatus away. As soon as it was carried off, a sudden paralyzing pressure descended upon the region.

Far above in the branches of the giant tree, from there it observed.

All the members of the troupe grew silent and seemingly swallowed in fear. Even Oneris couldn’t avoid showing a sense of apprehension when bathed in its bloodlust.

It was finally time for the black demon to descend.

***