Volume 2, Chapter 17: Nest of Devourers
{136 Days Remaining}
“Now, let me tell you something about the Grim Hunters,” Caldrun said from atop his horse. I was riding beside him. “All the hunters of our organization are personally funded by King Balan, bless his soul. We are few in numbers, so all of us are stretched thin among the regions. We take care of anything that goes bump in the night. Actually, day and night, since some of the monsters feel more comfortable in the day.”
Caldrun let out a small chuckle, as he led our party of five hundred soldiers, all on horses, to where his companions were waiting. “You should see some of the day monsters I have battled. Goblins can go back to sucking eggs from their grandmothers compared to Day Walkers. Looks exactly like a human, but far faster and stronger than one.”
I frowned a little inside my mind. How had I never met any such monsters in my past life before then, if it took a whole organization to deal with the monsters?
Caldrun shook his head. “These years though, monsters are becoming frequent, to the point that some of our hunters would need help from normal soldiers. The reason is unclear, but the number of monsters started increasing about two and a half years ago.”
“How come I have never witnessed these monsters you have described.?”
With a lopsided grin, Caldrun stroked the twin swords and crossbow he had on behind his back. “We are very good at our jobs.”
“The nest of Devourers must be some thing then, for you to come request aid.”
There was a dark look on Caldrun's grizzled face as he touched the huge scar on his left cheek. “Ah yes, the Devourers. Those fucking monsters are eerily human-looking and like to capture their preys alive. They also like to keep them as a food source for a long time. Prisoners for years they become...”
It was easy to guess from his words and manner that the hunter had a deep grudge against Devourers. Perhaps he himself had been captured by one and used as a food source.
“What's their food source?”
“I would have thought it be obvious with the name and all, but I guess not. I don't blame you though.” There was a short pause before he answered. “Our vitality...they like to devour our life essence.”
“How interesting...” I replied.
Caldrun inspected my face for a long time before he spoke up. It was a look I had seen many times before. “You are a strange person, Verath.”
“How so?”
“Just a feeling I get from you. I have learned to trust what my gut says. It has saved my life multiple times.”
I let out a small laugh. “I get that a lot.”
“Your gut talking to you? Or...”
I pointed a finger at my long, white hair.
“So it is,” Caldrun said, “so it is.”
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{134 Days Remaining}
We had been traveling for two days and it was late at night when our group met up with Caldrun's companions. We had been traveling on horseback from Asolance for a few hours, our party attracting the attention of the townsfolk and villagers we passed by. We were at a forest near a town called Falder, just a little south of Asolance. It was a large town with perhaps a few thousand people. All of our horses had been left in the care of the townsfolk. Typically, it would have been the duty of the commoners and lower folks to take care of soldiers (within reasonable realms) on urgent tasks, but I had left encouragement in the form of coins. After all, it takes a lot of money to feed five hundred horses.
“Ah yes, Verath—you don't mind if I do not call you knight commander, right—meet the two other Grim Hunters I am traveling with. Gunther and Lyra, that's their names.” Caldrun said, gesturing toward the leather armored man and woman sitting on a fallen log by the campfire. Both of them were inspecting their crossbow bolts. Their weapons and equipment were similar to Caldrun. Perhaps they were standard weapons of Grim Hunters, I thought.
“Back already, Caldrun?” Gunther said from beside the fire. He had put away his bolts and was inspecting a wicked-looking dagger the length of a man's forearm. “I would have thought your request of aid would have taken longer. Pity. I would have liked a longer break than a day's time from killing monsters.”
Lyra, the female Grim Hunter, looked up from her inspection. Her eyes wondered toward the group of soldiers behind me. Then they finally settled on me, measuring my prowess. “Just five hundred soldiers, Caldrun?”
Scratching at his scar, Caldrun casually replied, “Baroness Calina figured that five hundred soldiers and their commander would be enough.”
“Maybe if we were facing three Devourers, but a nest of them? I doubt a thousand soldiers will be enough. The three of us would be hard pressed to even kill one Devourer.”
“How many is a nest of Devourers?” I asked.
“It's six Devourers,” Lyra coolly answered.
I did a rough calculation based on if we had the hypothetical thousand soldiers. That meant that the three Grim Hunters combined were as strong as over a hundred and fifty soldiers, or one Devourer.
It made me even more curious as to what the Devourers were.
“Don't mind Lyra. She is just a little grumpy because I killed the previous monster we were hunting.” Caldrun formed a small, grim smile—it made him suitable to be a “Grim” Hunter. “Baroness Calina seems to fully trust you and she seems competent enough, so I will extend my trust in you also. We should probably survive in the upcoming battle. If we do not...” Caldrun gave a small shrug. “That's just the life of a Grim Hunter then. We go to our graves violently, most of us dying from monsters.”
“Let me tell you what we are up against,” Caldrun said.
I nodded for him to continue.
“Our scryers and scouts have confirmed that there are six Devourers. They have taken up residence in the forests of the next town up ahead, a whole morning's travel there by foot. Our plan will be to surround them, while you and my party will lure them out of their hiding hole. Then”— there was a glint in his eyes—“we fight to the death. It will be either us or them.”
“Any special things my men and I should note about them?”
Caldrun unsheathed his sword strapped beside his waist, the steel glinting against the night in the firelight. “Yes, a face shoved full of steel will kill these monsters. Be wary of their touch though. They can drain a man's life in mere seconds if they feel like it. One must also be wary of their speed and strength, for they are beyond a man's.” Caldrun glanced at the other two Grim Hunters before looking back at me. “We are all talented in fire magic—useful for burning monsters—but Devourers, however, are resistant to magic. So it is quite useless, magic, that is. Only steel works.”
“Thanks, I shall tell that to my men now.”
I held my head high and stood in a proud, confident manner, as I faced my five hundred soldiers; I had learned that a commander needed to remain confident no matter what the situation was. It was always good for the men to see that you had a plan (even if you don't) up your sleeves. I raised my voice, just enough so that it would reach them all. Their faces were hard and unyielding. All of them soldiers who had seen battles. None of them were green and still learning to suck eggs from their grandmothers.
I explained the strengths of the Devourers we would face to my soldiers and that we would surround them in the forests of the next town. Then I made an attempt at a small speech.
“I will not lie to you and say that we will all return home alive, that we will all return to Asolance. Know, however, that the Devourers have never seen the likes of us before. We are the best of the best in the northern region. We have all seen our shares of battles and we will not go down easily. We will fight to the last arm, leg, teeth, and nail, if necessary. In the name of the White Demon, the monsters shall learn to fear us.”
Each of the five hundred soldiers drew their swords free and held it high. No words were spoken. No cheers were let out. None was needed—we had all learned to trust each other during the 70 days of turmoil.
That, and it would not have been logical to scream out cheers in the middle of the night. We had our own way of cheering, the soldiers I led.
“Let us make camp now, and head out early morning tomorrow to the forests near the town of Rygrad.”
Each of the soldier carried large packsacks that contained basic essentials such as food and blanket. We had only carried the minimum items to make travel as quick as possible on our way to Rygrad. I also did not need to tell some of the soldiers to stand as nightwatch while the rest of us slept. The captains of each fifty men squad would do that instead.
“Nice speech,” Lyra, the female Grim Hunter, said. She had gotten up from where she was sitting and walked toward me until we were a few feet apart. “It sounded like the croak of a dying man.”
Gunther, the other male Grim Hunter, continued inspecting his equipment and weapons, not even looking up to see what was going on. I guess he was the silent type.
“Thank you, Lyra. It's always a good thing to croak hard when you are dying.”
“I have heard a lot about you,” Lyra said, not the slightest bit hindered by my retort. “Bards and minstrels have been spreading tales of the White Demon in the northern region, of a white-haired man who can easily turn the tide of battles by himself. A master mage and swordsman. Those who have fought him steel to steel swears that you are the fastest and strongest opponent they have ever fought. Almost makes one believe that you are not human.”
I showed a small smile, but didn't comment. It was a smile that urged her to continue on with her speech—I was waiting for what she truly wanted to say.
“Let us test our mettle in a small spar. Agreed?”
“If you wish,” I said, feeling that her words were somewhat unexpected. I had figured the female Grim Hunter would have accused me of being a monster. I suppose their scryers and scouts still did not know about me? Or were they just biding their time, since I had a connection with Baroness Calina, the ruler of the northern region of Shail Kingdom, just one step below King Balan and equal in power and position to the other three barons. Two, actually, since I had killed the eastern baron and all his immediate family; they had all been in the towers that I had reduced to rubble.
“Draw your steel, White Demon,” Lyra said, her weapon out in a flash. It was a steel sword half a man's height. Sigils were etched onto the blade of the weapon and the guard of the sword looked almost like the skull of an animal.
I looked toward Caldrun—he was obviously the leader of the two Grim Hunters, him being the oldest and most experienced looking. There was this air of power and experience to him.
Caldrun shrugged his shoulders as if to say it was not his problem. Perhaps, like Lyra, he wanted to see the level of my skills. But I already knew the result of this bout. Even my soldiers knew it—only a few chose to watch, while the rest prepared their camps and took up watch duties.
I drew my blade free from its sheathe. It didn't lit up like Lyra's blade. Instead, my enchanted black longsword seem to almost absorb the light from the campfire, not even giving out a dull reflection. It was pure Astraldite, a material which enhanced a mage's magic power; it was akin to all the strengths of steel. There were lines of sigils carved onto it, all of which enhanced fire magic. The weapon had been specially made by the Mage Academy after I had made a request.
I also had a set of enchanted black armor currently in the makings at the academy, but a full set of armor made entirely out of Astraldite would take long, so I still did not have it. It was why I was just wearing a plain white armor.
I stood still, my breathing even and my sword held in the Wandering Flame stance. I had been practicing without fail every day, or at least whenever I had the time. Lyra, a few feet to the front of me, was in a stance I did not recognize. It didn't look to be the stances of Moon and Void or Flowing Water.
“Wandering Flame, eh,” Lyra said, taking a step toward me. “An aggressive fighter, I suppose. Just my type of opponent.” She switched the sword into her left hand—a leftie, I thought, probably trained with both hands.
Lyra attacked then, instantly closing the distance between the two of us. She was fast. Much quicker than all of the opponents I had faced so far. Even the Knight Commanders would have been no match for her.
I jumped to the side, dodging her lightning slash, and spun a swift pirouette. Lyra did not even lose balance, quickly spinning on her heels to meet my attack. There was not even one second of delay in her block, even though she had missed her initial attack. Our swords clashed for a moment before she drew away. That small second of clashing had told me that she was not all speed. She was also strong, very strong, despite her slim, but muscular arms.
Lyra had made the correct decision in not choosing to clash swords with me any longer. She had most likely figured that I was the stronger of the both of us. As she drew away, I followed her, this time taking the attack. My stance, after all, specialized in its aggressiveness.
I traced a quick, semi-circle with my blade. Then I leapt, feigning a whirling movement above her head. The another toward her right side. Without a second hesitation, I quickly slashed upward at her from downward. Another feint, but Lyra did not rise to the bait, merely stepping backward to dodge it by a hair's breadth.
I spun around using the force of my downward to upward swing to slash at her side. The transition from all of my attacks had been smooth and quick, but Lyra blocked them all with just a mere turn of her blade, using the least strength to deflect my blade.
We had only been a few seconds into the fight, but I knew it was not going to get anywhere. It was time to use more of my strength and speed.
I went at her, twice as fast before. She blocked my attack, but I noticed a little pause, just the barest hint, before she deflected—her eyes were having trouble keeping up with my movement. I allowed her no rest, continually attacking her. Left, right, left, right, up, down, up, down. Of course, it was not in a pattern like that, but you get the idea.
Then I started fighting dirty. I swiped at her face with a gauntlet hand. It surprised Lyra, her eyes widening a little at the suddenness of it. She quickly moved her head backward, barely dodging it, and pulled back her sword and whole body, choosing to disengage.
She returned with a little vengeance in her eyes, slashing downward toward my neck. I raised my sword, blocking it. Then I blocked her kick toward my groin with my own leg, not letting her go any further—I had been expecting some form of dirty attack from her.
It brought me close to her, our faces almost upon each other, our lips almost in a lover's kiss. She was close to my height and we were almost level, since my knees were bent a little to block her. I breathed softly onto her lips, eliciting an amusing reaction from the female Grim Hunter.
She glared at me and muttered, “bastard,” under her breath. It made her seem younger than her twenty-seven years of age or so, probably, if I was a trustworthy judge of a woman's age.
Our blades were still locked together. It was the perfect moment. I increased my strength, bearing down on her and she became off-balanced, her sword turned away.
That was the end of our fight, my free hand instantly taking the opportunity to grip her sword-hand. It was a little awkward since she was fighting left-handed and I was fighting right-handed, but it was still feasible. My grip was iron and unyielding, my strength making her grimace a little in pain. I pulled at her, turning her around and went behind her. The sudden motion and force made her drop her blade, while my own blade came at a stop to her throat.
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In a fashion, it almost made me seem like an evil lord holding a princess hostage at sword-point to her dainty neck. A fairy-tale like story, except this was no dainty princess, and I was not an evil lord –well, not really.
I waited for Lyra to struggle free, but she did not. She knew when she had been beaten, and would make no fuss about it. I waited for her surrender and surrender she did.
“I yield,” Lyra said, her voice hard and cold as she said the two words.
Hearing that, I let go of her gloved wrist and backed away to a comfortable distance. Then I picked up her fallen weapon, returning it to her. Her lips became pursed as she accepted the blade from my outstretched hand.
“Thanks.”
I nodded and turned my back to the three Grim Hunters. There had been a quick flash of amusement in Caldrun's eyes, and a small thin smile before I walked toward my men who had been spectating. They did not cheer at my win—it would have been discourteous to the Grim Hunter. They, themselves, also knew that my opponent had been a top-notch fighter, far more experienced and talented than them.
Still, the look of admiration in the soldiers' eyes could not be hidden. There was almost hero-worship in the soldiers who were commoners. A Gold Knight Commander was rare, but a non-noble Gold Knight Commander? That was almost like a dream.
Thus, the night was over and we all went to sleep, granted, except for the soldiers with night watch duties.
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{133 Days Remaining}
It was close to afternoon when we arrived at the forest near Rygrad. The forest was large, enough to hide an army inside without any trouble. We had asked some of the townspeople and they answered our questions with an obvious nervousness. There had been a few people who had suddenly gone missing from the town.
After confirming that, we were now at the opening of the forest, all of us divided into five even groups, one hundred soldiers to each group. The plan was to spread out and surround the Devourers so that they would not escape. Each group would keep a devourer busy and if they could manage, kill the devourer. Since there were six groups, the group that had all four of us together would engage two Devourers simultaneously.
Caldrun had informed me that the Devourers, once they had made a nest, would not easily elave it. They were also creatures confident of their strength, so the Devourers would fight against a measly five hundred and four humans. They would not run away at the sight of us, since the Devourers were also somewhat territorial after making a nest.
We entered the forest, two groups immediately breaking off to each side. The four groups would flank our initial attack. We did not even try to soften or quiet our footfalls. The footfalls of a hundred soldiers passing through a forest would have been impossible to mask entirely. The sounds of fallen twigs and the smell of crushed grass was palpable in the air.
A few minutes passed as we trudged deeper into the forest, all of our swords drawn, and our eyes alert. Despite the wide canopies of the trees, daylight still managed to pass through, lighting the forest and making shadows. As our group headed deeper in, with the three Grim Hunters beside me, I saw a tree which looked bended and broken in some areas, as if it had been slammed at by an enormous animal.
The Devourers, Caldrun had told me, were categorized as day monsters. This meant that they were not weak to daylight and were not part of the undead species. Day or nighttime did nothing to them. We chose to attack at daytime, because we would be more disadvantaged at nighttime.
Screams suddenly pierced the forests, worse than the sound of shattered mirrors—they were the screams of dying men. It seemed to come from the right, the dying screams.
The Grim Hunters immediately reacted, Caldrun being the quickest of the three. They sprinted toward where the screams had come from. I followed closely behind, So did my soldiers.
Then shouts came from behind me. Caldrun instantly turned his head a little, but continued running. “Time to show your skills, White Demon! You handle that Devourer, while we go help the other groups!”
I did not even bother to reply before turning around. A scene of a Devourer with his fist speared through the throat of a male soldier entered my vision; the dead soldier was hanging two feet above the ground, solely relying on the arm shoved through his throat. Blood dripped down in a steady flow toward the ground.
The Devourer had an angular beauty to him and would not have looked out of place among humans. He was dressed in a black vest and pants, now stained red from the blood. Several of my soldiers were slowly circling the monster, creating a ring of human soldiers around him. There was vengeance in their eyes, but caution was better than recklessness.
I hurried toward the Devourer, and my soldiers parted to let me through. I neared just in time to hear the Devourer speak in a low voice, made strange by the unknown language he spoke.
“Irow haj zeu ta il tral'xil, Marivels!”
I understood the unknown language the Devourer had spoken in, my dragon gift for languages instantly translating the foreign words.
“We shall feast on you tonight, Mortals.” That was what the Devourer had said.
One of the circling soldiers took out a dagger and threw it at the Devourer. The humanoid creature did not even bother to dodge the weapon, letting it pierce his gut. The Devourer only frowned a little before taking the dagger out, red blood dying the spot on his vest. Then the creature sneered at the soldiers, the disdain in his eyes obvious.
The human soldier he held through his fist suddenly started emitting white mist, which was absorbed by the Devourer. It took only a second, at most two seconds, before the soldier became a dried, pale husk, his skin sagging against his bones as if he had been terribly emaciated, starved for years. The life essence—the white mist, most likely—had reduced the soldier into an old wizened husk almost instantly.
The Devourer looked vitalized then; the life essence he had taken had healed him and made him stronger.
I charged at the Devourer, my speed a blur to the human eyes. I must have looked as if I had teleported a short distance. One moment I had been standing near the circle of human soldiers and the next moment my sword was coming down at the Devourer.
The Devourer reacted quickly though, using the human husk as a shield. My longsword made of Astraldite, however, cut through the husk and the Devourer's arm. Fresh blood sprayed in a clean arc and the severed arm of the Devourer dropped onto the ground.
The creature growled in pain at me and shoved his bloody, half-arm stump toward my face. He tried to retreat, looking for an easier prey to heal himself. I didn't relent though, following his retreat. My sword soon found his other arm before he could even grab at an outlying soldier encircling him. His arms had been halved into two bloody stumps.
The Devourer jumped high, well over ten feet. I didn't let him escape though. I formed an earthen spear in my hand and thew it at the Devourer. The creature twisted his body in an attempt to dodge the spear, but it was futile. The spear pierced through his chest and stuck him against the trunk of a tall tree. The earthen spear had worked because it was technically not magic, since I was no longer feeding magic power to the spear after its creation.
Even with an earthen spear pierced through his chest, the Devourer was still alive, growling at me from above. More than three feet of the earthen spear's length was lodged through the trunk of the tree. And though the Devourer undoubtedly had strength far superior to that of a human, it was hard to free oneself form a spear.
I formed two slabs of earth and slammed them together, crushing the Devourer stuck five feet above the ground on the trunk of the tree. There was an audible crunch of bones and a squishy, nauseating sound produced as a result of that. A puddle of blood also dripped down from between the slabs of earth, forming a small puddle on the forest floor. It would serve as food for the roots of the tree, and the tree itself would act as a grave marker for the dead Devourer.
The sounds of battles and shouts were still coming from the other areas. I turned to where the majority of the ninety-nine soldiers in my group were at, before addressing them. “All of you will go help the right groups and I will go help the left groups. Make sure not to give the Devourers a chance to touch you.”
“As ordered, Gold Knight Commander Verath!” a knight captain said.
We split up then, all of the soldiers in my group heading toward the right, while I headed toward the left.
After the soldiers were seen rushing out, I looked upward at the nearby trees, whose leafy branches could hide many things...including a Devourer. My gift for sensing danger, which only worked sometimes and quite infrequently, was finally rearing its head.
“Show yourself, Devourer!” I shouted toward the canopies of the trees.
The Devourer—a humanoid looking female with straw-color hair—landed gracefully onto the forest floor. Like the male Devourer I had previously killed, she had a sort of angular beauty with all the right, soft curves. A beauty, I suppose, if one ignored the fact that she could suck the life essence out of a man in a mere second or two.
“Il sar na Marivel!” the female Devourer exclaimed.
I neither smiled nor commented, only holding my Astraldite longsword ready.
“You are not human!” the female Devourer repeated, sharply emphasizing the word human. I could sense that the Devourer was somewhat curious in me. And from her easy pose and placating manner, she did not look to be threatening me. But I had been wrong about women on multiple accounts before. I would remain wary, even though my curiosity was making itself known.
“What do you want?” I asked the Devourer in a calm voice.
The female humanoid creature chose not to answer and instead drew closer toward me, the leaves rustling underfoot. Her face was pale, her eyes black and enormous, almost like saucers. She came closer and closer toward me until we were only about three feet away from each other. Then she sniffed the air, as if taking in some sort of essence or smell from me.
I watched the female Devourer, half of my attention solely focused on any sudden movements she would make, while the other half was wondering in curiosity. Her eyes widened, and an awkward looking smile appeared on her face, her small, red lips broadening a little.
“Araach'draakzur!” she said excitedly. Then she jumped at me.
I became instantly alert and counterattacked with a kick, the force of it throwing her back a few feet. She landed on the ground with what looked to be a hard thud and there was a small frown on her face. Then the female Devourer stood up and jumped at me again, shouting “Arraach'draakzur!”
I didn't know what she was saying. I was only able to glean a little meaning from that long, foreign word she had shouted at me. The only meaning that had been translated by my gift for languages was the word “dragon,” but it was only part of that long word. I was still missing many things.
I kicked at the female Devourer again. She landed on the forest floor once more, her frown growing larger. She stood up, unfazed from my kicks. This time though, she only stood motionless, watching me with her large, black eyes.
I looked at her in curiosity and likewise, she did the same.
Little did I know back then that the female Devourer had been trying to jump at me in an attempt to get closer, to smell me better, and to touch me.
Don't judge, my guest, for I know that a female monster who could drain your life in a touch, no matter how beautiful she looked, would certainly be kicked away if she suddenly jumped at you. She should consider herself lucky that I had been curious enough to not kill her the moment she jumped at me.
As we both stood watching each other amidst the screams of dying human men and women—I was too busy with the female Devourer to pay any attention to my soldiers—I tried suggesting to the female Devourer that she wait for me here. That I would come back to this area after I had killed the other Devourers.
The female Devourer only shrugged, and it made me believe that it did not matter to her whether the other Devourers died.
I quickly left the area while the female Devourer went back into hiding, and proceeded toward the thick of the ongoing battles, and helped killed another male Devourer by working in concert with a few of my better soldiers. The monster did not go down easy, taking a few soldiers along with him to his death.
By the time we had finished with the two Devourers in the left area of the forest, the remaining soldiers and I all sprinted toward the right area of the forest. One Devourer had already been killed with a bolt from a crossbow through an eye, and multiple stab wounds were found all over his body. Near the body of the Devourer, there were also the wizened, dried husks of my soldiers. Dozens of them, in fact.
And when we arrived at the area where the other remaining Devourer was, the monster was already heavily bleeding while the three Grim Hunters were like small whirlwinds around the monster. There was a trail of old, shrunken bodies of soldiers tracing the path where the battle with the Devourer had taken place. It was not long before the three Grim Hunters finally put an end to the remaining Devourer.
Caldrun, Gunther, and Lyra were heaving with effort, and there was a noticeable limp on both Gunther and Caldrun as they came toward me. There was much blood on their clothes and leather armors, as if the three Grim Hunters had taken a stroll through a short, heavy rain of blood.
“Did you get the other three?” Caldrun asked, having finally regained his breath.
I shook my head. “No. One got away.”
There was a sharp grimace on Caldrun's face. “Are the two other dead Devourers both males?”
I nodded.
“Shit. Whore of a dog,” Lyra swore. “This means that the female Devourer got away then.”
Gunther added in an almost whispering voice. “Yes, the matriarch Devourer. The leader of the nest.”
Caldrun sighed softly. “It's too late to chase her anyway. Who knows where the monster has gone. A Devourer's speed and stamina is no joke, so we can only try another time. Useless chasing her now. We shall have to just rely on our scryers and scouts.”
Leaning on his longsword which was similar to that of Lyra, Caldrun turned his head toward me. “You have done the Grim Hunters a great service today, Verath. I thank thee for your help, and if we ever meet again, I shall treat you to some food.”
Caldrun grinned at me and walked closer, trying not to put weight on his sprained, right foot. He then embraced me and whispered, “I know you are a monster, but you seem to do more good than harm. If ever that balance reverses, I will personally hunt you down. And do not worry, despite my looks, I have an extensive influence within my organization.”
He stopped his embrace and retreated back to his group of Grim Hunters. Then Caldrun smiled at me. I, likewise, smiled back. But we both knew that our smiles did not reach our eyes.
We went our separate ways then, the Grim Hunters choosing not to rest near Rygrad town. My group, however, settled for a good afternoon and a night's rest at the town. We had some burying to do for the dead soldiers tomorrow morning. There had been a hundred and twenty casualties, and despite our victory, we did not have a jovial mood. Our mood was solemn and determined instead.
Also, as I exited the forest, I carefully gestured to the female Devourer—the matriarch of the nest— to follow me. My hands, not literally, of course, would be busy with this female Devourer for the night.
Volume 2 (Chapter 18)