Chapter I: Hunting Dinner
Demonic Wildlands Near the Great Plateau
Month of the Garuda 15 , 172,328 DE
As I crouch on a thick limb next to the thick trunk, I carefully scan the open area around the pond to the east, waiting for my prey to show. Under the ruddy sunset, the shadows of the tall trees paint the lake in a patchwork of ruddy light and shade. Sunset is one of the best times of day to catch animals at a water source. The Shadow from the Great Plateau, and the deeper shadows of the forest turn the area around the plateau into a sea of shade surrounded by darkness.
Though the sweltering heat of the late summer afternoon has already faded a bit, beads of sweat still run down my face and chest, but I make no move to wipe them away. I am still glad that I am only wearing a loincloth and belt.
As I watch, a herd of Stone Rams, a type of Ferocious Beast, reaches the end of a trail through the forest. Looking around before they exit the forest trail, the herd guards for the herd look around cautiously before the lead ram heads for the pond. Stone Rams are tough Ferocious Beasts that can eat almost any kind of vegetation, whether or not its poisonous. They have a strong affinity with Elemental Earth. With their abnormal strength for their size and exceptional toughness, most predators do not try to hunt them, but several species of big cats do.
The Stone Rams are not my prey; I want the big cats that hunt them. I have particular fancy for the meat of big cats. I have for most of my life, all fourteen years of it.
While the herd guards spread out and take turns drinking, the rest of the herd clusters at the shore of the pond and quickly laps up the water. But as cautious as the herd guards may be, they do not spot the shadow in the foliage to the south of the forest path. With the steady wind blowing to the south, the Stone Rams are unlikely to catch the predator's scent.
As the Stone Rams drink, the shadowed predator patiently watches, not moving so much as a single whisker. While the foliage and shadows conceal its coloring, from its size and shape it should be a Striped Forest Cat, another Ferocious Beast.
As opposed to the Demonic Beasts, which have been Tainted by Chaos, Ferocious Beast are among the natural born creatures of this world. However, unlike common animals, Ferocious Beast naturally Coalesce Mana as they grow and age. Rare ones can even Coalesce Psi and Ki, the Powers of the Mind and Soul. Because they are not considered "intelligent" species, the Temple of the Celestial Court turns a blind eye to the fact that they Coalesce Power. If they were human and caught practicing Coalescence, they would be summarily tried, convicted, and sentenced to death by torture.
In the Dragon Seal Universe, Cultivation of the Daos is the only allowed Path, and all humans who seek the pinnacle of strength Cultivate. They Cultivate Mana, the Power of the Body, but they call it Yuan Qi. I prefer the old name as used by the War Masters of ancient times, but I do not use the Name Mana in front of anyone but Old Man Jones, the human who raised me. Old Man Jones was a student of the ancient War Masters, and he has a lot of lost knowledge stored in his shitty brain.
Repeating most of what Old Man Jones knows in public would be a quick way to get a death sentence from the Temple of the Celestial Court. Personally, I am not in any rush to experience death by torture.
Once they finish drinking, the Stone Rams cluster up and head straight for the forest trail, but as the last herd guard nears the trail entry, the Striped Forest Cat springs.
"Grrraaarrrr!"
The reverberations from the Striped Forest Cats loud growl causes the trailing herd guard to freeze for just a second or two, but that is more than enough. Paws first, the Striped Forest Cat slams into the Stone Ram's neck. While standing forty centimeters shorter at the shoulder than the Stone Ram's nearly two meter at the shoulder height, the more than three meter long Striped Forest Cat's body packs more then enough strength and momentum to snap the Stone Ram's neck.
As the trailing herd guard falls dead, the rest of the herd takes off at a gallop, leaving the corpse of their fallen herd mate to its killer.
With a quick look around, the Striped Forest Cat sinks its teeth into the back of dead Stone Ram's neck and bounds off toward the south. From the way the big cat moves, it should have already broken into the First Circle of Coalescence. It will not be an easy kill, but springing from tree limb to tree limb, I follow behind the big cat.
After some ten minutes, the Striped Forest Cat reaches a rocky outcropping, with a narrow opening that might be a cave or just a crevice. Backing into the opening, it drags the Stone Ram's carcass in after it.
Since I can only smell the scent of a single Striped Forest Cat and no other predators in the area, I settle in to give it time to feed. If there any other predators, I would smell them. Even in my human form, my nose is sharper than nearly any Ferocious Beast I am likely to find in this area. It is doubtful there are even any Demonic Beasts this close to the Great Plateau that have a sharper sense of smell than my own.
While I may not be able to Coalesce Power as yet, I would still be sentenced to death if the Temple of the Celestial Court were ever to learn what I am. In this Dragon Seal Universe, Wolves are considered Demonic Beasts. The Great Wolves, as my species Named itself, are especially evil in the eyes of the Celestial Court. We do not use Chaos and are not tainted by it, unlike many of the Dragons, yet they label us a Demonic. On the orders of the Dragon usurper, their human lickspittles hunt down and kill any and all Wolves. Until I grow strong enough to destroy them, I can never let the humans know my true nature.
Once the sun fully sets and darkness engulf the forest, I silently descend to the ground. As I cross the leaf covered ground to the bare dirt in front of the cave, my bare feet make no sound, but as I near the cave, the sound of the Striped Forest Cat tearing a piece of flesh from the Stone Ram's carcass reaches my ears.
Still moving carefully and quietly, I climb to a perch over the opening, but the sounds of the Striped Forest Cat's feeding cease. It either heard or smelled me. Whatever the case it no longer matters, I am in position.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Pulling the fighting knives from the sheathes attached to to my belt at the small of my back, I bang the blades together a few times. Old Man Jones calls my knives Bowie Knives. According to him, they were the best fighting knives ever made on his home world, and since leaving it, he has yet to find a better one on any world he has been to.
"Grrraaarrrr!"
The Striped Forest Cat's loud growl echoes inside the cave. Its reverberations sink into my flesh, but unlike the Stone Rams, I am not vulnerable to its momentary paralyzing effect. It may be because I am a born predator, or it may be because I am a Great Wolf, the true lord of all natural Beasts on this world. Whatever the reason, as the big cat springs from its den, I am ready and waiting.
Dropping from above, I land on the Striped Forest Cat's back and clamp my legs around its barrel. As the cat leaps high into the air, I lean forward and bury both my knives in the sides of its neck and start twisting them. With forty-five centimeter blades, my Bowie Knives can reach halfway through the cats neck and leave massive tears in its muscles and blood vessels.
"Grrraaarrrr!"
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Hitting the ground, the Striped Forest Cat releases a pain-filled growl and spins around wildly from one side to the other. Failing to dislodge me, the big cat flips over backward, and while tearing my knives from its throat, I release my grip on its barrel. As the big cat twists around wildly, blood fountains from the gaping tears in its neck.
Hopping backward out of the reach of the Striped Forest Cat's claws, I wait for it to scramble back to its feet, but as the big cat rolls back to its belly, its eyes already have a glazed look to them. As it tries to rise to its feet, it stumbles and collapses back to the ground.
"Grrraaarrrr."
The Striped Forest Cat's soft growl completely lacks the intimidating power and reverberation of its previous growls.
Even though the Striped Forest Cat has no concept of what the expression or gesture means, I smirk and wiggle my fingers at it. "Nighty-night, pussy. You won't be waking up tomorrow or ever again."
"Grrr."
With one last plaintive growl, the Striped Forest Cat's head slumps to the ground, and less than thirty seconds later, as its heart stops beating, the blood stops spurting from its savaged neck.
I flip the Striped Forest Cat's corpse onto its side, and unwinding a coil of rope from around my waist, I tie all four of its feet together. When I haul the nearly thousand pound carcass onto my shoulder, I have to shift it around so that I can balance the uneven weight. Even so, the weight is still within my carrying capacity. I was born stronger than a normal human, and the Body Forging that I practice has only strengthened me.
Moving at a jog, I head for the Great Plateau. Travelling through the forest at night is no problem for me, my sense of smell is not my only sense that is superior to a common human, rather all my senses are superior. While I cannot see in absolute darkness, I can see both above and below the visual light range for humans. In the absence of strong light in the human visual spectrum, the night around me is an odd mix of stark black and grey with splashes of color from the objects with a temperature higher than their surrounding ambient temperatures. From the point of view of the science that Old Man Jones taught me, the way my vision works makes no sense, but where Power is concerned, science must bow to the Trinity and Elemental Powers that set their own laws. As a Great Wolf, I am a creature born to Power.
Before I am halfway back to the Great Plateau, an unnatural silence settles on the forest. The nighttime calls of all the animals, birds, and insects abruptly cease. With the absence of sounds other than wind through the leaves of the forest's canopy, I stop and close my eyes. With my attention focused on my senses of smell and hearing, I search through the wealth of information in the environment around me that most humans remain completely unaware of.
In just a few seconds, I find what I am looking for. Coming from the north, the wind brings a very, very faint scent. A hint of sweetness that is so sweet it borders on sickening drift south on the wind, and hidden beneath the sweetness, lies corruption. Something tainted by Chaos stalks the forest to the north. As I continue testing the air, I separate the scent of Chaos taint into at least thirteen individual scents, but since the scnets are faint, there could be more. Whatever their number, a pack of Demonic Beasts, Beasts that are born of Chaos or have been corrupted by Chaos, hunts the foot of the Great Plateau.
With the amount of corruption in their scents, I cannot tell what kind of Beasts they might once have been, but at least, I can determine that they are not strong Demonic Beasts. They were driven near to the Great Plateau because they are weak. The Watch Towers keep the stronger Demonic Beast farther at bay. According to Old Man Jones, the stronger the Demonic Beast, the stronger the suppression of the Watch Towers on the Demonic Beasts. In theory, the weakest of Demonic Beasts could pass through the Watch Towers' suppression with a strong enough will to endure the pain from the suppression. But if a true Chaos Beast were ever to materialize in the Realm, the Watch Towers might instantly obliterate it.
The teachings of the Temple of the Celestial Court say that the Watch Towers were a gift from the Celestial Court to Humankind, but Old Man Jones says they were built by the ancient War Masters long before the Celestial Court ever set foot on this world. He says the Celestial Court could never have built the Watch Towers, because the Dragons of the Celestial Court are themselves corrupted by Chaos and other Powers like it, which Old Man Jones calls the Primal Powers. If the Dragons try to pass through the Watch Towers defense fields, they would be destroyed.
From the scent of the Demonic Beasts, I could tangle with one of them and come out on top. Even without their scent, just knowing that they are so close to the Great Plateau, I know they are weak. However, even if they are weak, there is no way I can take on a pack of thirteen without having a clue about their origin species. If I could get them one at a time, I might take them down piecemeal, but I am not about to take that risk. Picking up my pace, I sprint for the Great Plateau.
I am still more than four kilometers from the great plateau. If I was not burdened with the Striped Forest Cats carcass, I could cross the distance in eight minutes or less, but with the extra mass and bulk, it will take me nearly twice as long. I could move faster, but I could not remain silent while doing so. Since I do not know how acute the hearing of the Demonic Beasts might be, it is better to make less noise. I am still downwind of them, and the longer it takes them to notice the signs of my passage the better my chances of getting away with my prey. I have no intention of letting the Beasts have the meat that I hunted myself.
When I am a bit less than two kilometers from the trail I use to get up and down the Eastern Escarpment of the Great Plateau, the howls of Demonic Beast break the unnatural silence of the forest. It starts with one, but more and more take up the cry, until fifteen distinct howls fill the darkness of the night. Fifteen is two more than I had identified from their scents, bad but not as bad as it could be. They either picked up my scent or the scent of the Striped Forest Cat's blood. From the frenzied pitch of their howls, it is more likely that they scented the blood.
I just wish I could identify their origin species, but the howls are not close enough to any Ferocious Beast I know the cries of for me to make the determination.
When I am only a couple hundred yards from the foot of the trail, I hear the rhythmic thumping of the pursuing Demonic Beasts. Based on the sound, they have hooves. Most hoofed animals and some hoofed Ferocious Beasts are herbivorous. Stone Rams are an example of an herbivorous Ferocious Beast. While there are not many herbivorous Ferocious Beast and no herbivorous Demonic Beasts, that does mean that there are no Demonic Beast that were once hoofed herbivores.
With the Striped Forest Cat's carcass on my shoulders, I cannot see behind me. I can only judge how many and how close the Demonic Beasts are by the sound of their hoofbeats. Once they are less than fifty paces, I leap into the air and spin a full circle before hitting the ground to get a look at them.
As I see the Demonic Beasts, I almost burst out laughing. They look like oversize cattle with streams of smoke coming from their nostrils and a fiery glow in their eyes. Sine they all look the same, they might be a Demonic Species that breed true, but I do not recognize the species. I have never seen anything like them or found any record of them in any Bestiary that I have read.
Pushing myself even harder, I race for the plateau. Those Demonic Cows can go to Diyu if they think I am giving them my prey.
The pace of the thundering beats of the Demonic Cattle's hooves picks up a couple notches. They voice cries that sound like a cross between a neigh and roar, which sounds more like something I would expect to come out of the mouth of a Demon Horse than a Demon Cow. They do not give off too strong of a scent of Chaos, so they might even be able to partially ascend the trail without being destroyed by the Watch Towers.
By the time I reach the foot of the trail up the Escarpment, the hot breath of the lead Demonic Cow bathes my lower back with steam. Leaping to the top of a boulder, I use it as a stepping stone to jump to a higher point on the trail.
Boom! Crack-crack!
Spinning halfway around, I see the lead Demonic Cow shaking its head dazedly. With one of its horns broken off at its midpoint, it stares at the now-cracked boulder in front of it, as though it is staring down a mortal enemy. No matter how much Chaos corrupts a cow, in the end, a cow is a cow, and dumb as box of rocks.
The rest of the herd thunders up behind it. Some of them try running up the side of the cliff to reach the trail, but they only flop over onto their backs. Standing up, a few glare at the cliff like an enemy, and a couple others charge head first into it. The horns of one break, and other Demonic Cows in the herd shake their own broken horns, while making that noise between a neigh and a roar.
I turn and race up the trail. Whether or not it is Demonic, a Cow is a Cow, dumb as a box of rocks, but that does not mean I will wait for them to figure out they just need to move a dozen-odd yards to the south and they can easily get onto the trail. If the make it onto the trail, I still do not know how far up the trail those dumb Demonic Cows might be able to make it.
My pack, which has my boots and clothes in it, is concealed not far from the Demonic Cattle, but I am not taking any risks to retrieve it. I can just pick it up tomorrow, after the Cows are gone.