Now, Northern Philippines
Rino burst through a tree in her full Weredog form.
She was a killing machine. Nearly a thousand pounds of muscle, teeth and claws.
The berbalangs didn’t know what hit them.
She leapt into the air and eviscerated two berbalangs then caught Mouthy and landed. Promptly dumping the ranger, none to gently, on the ground.
It took seconds for her to rip through the berbalangs attacking the others.
Bloodied and battered rangers hesitantly raised weapons and hands to the hulking beast in their midst.
“Hold! Damn it! She’s a friendly!” Sgt. Butcher said.
Rino towered over the rangers. She dipped her head and growled before disappearing into the forest depths.
“I think the bitch said ‘take care, guys’,” Mouthy said.
“We probably should’ve said ‘thanks for saving our lives’,” Hardhat said. “I wouldn’t want to piss her off.”
Mouthy considered it for a moment. “Thanks!” she shouted toward the direction Rino had disappeared to. “There. Now she’s got no reason to tear my head off. Happy?”
“Roll, call,” Sgt. Butcher ordered.
One by one the rangers called out.
“Catscratch, Chains and Fin are missing,” Sgt. Butcher said. She didn’t let the dark thoughts find purchase in her mind. No bodies meant that there was still a chance they were alive.
“I saw one of the half-lady aswangs grab Chains,” Aims said.
“Catscratch used a Skill to follow,” Smores grunted.
“What about the creepy kid?” Hardhat said.
The rangers realized that they had no idea.
Fin had been with them before the battle, but after that there was a blank spot in their memories.
“This is some magic bullshit! Knew we couldn’t trust that fucking weirdo,” Mouthy spat. “Hey! Mage-nerds, wiggle your fingers and do some magic shit to figure this out.”
“I’d try, but the pain in my broken ankle is making it hard to concentrate,” Smores hissed.
“I guess I can do the first-aid,” Two-toes sighed.
“We can’t continue forward in our current state. We’re undermanned, but set up a defensive perimeter,” Sgt. Butcher said.
The rangers remained tense as Two-toes set and bound Smores’ ankle.
The sounds of twig snapping and rustling in the bushes made them jump.
“That came from over there,” Hardhat pointed in the direction they had come from.
“Aims, cover it. Hardhat, you’ve got nine, I’ll take three, Mouthy you’ve got twelve. Smores, Two-toes be ready with spell support,” Sgt. Butcher said.
“It doesn’t sound right. Not like something sneaking up on us or even just walking. It’s like a drunk staggering around,” Aims said.
The sounds continued to draw closer.
“Oh shit!” Aims holstered his pistols and dashed toward the sounds.
“Get back here, ranger!” Sgt. Butcher called out after him.
The silence after Aims had disappeared into the darkness seemed to stretch out for minutes.
“I need help!” Aims called out. “It’s Catscratch! He’s hurt bad!”
Sgt. Butcher sprinted to the sound of his voice and together they carried the big ranger back.
Catscratch held his throat.
There was so much red leaking from around his gloved fingers and down the front of his armor.
“Hang on, ranger. That’s an order. Two-toes!” Sgt. Butcher said.
“You have to let go ‘scratch. I can’t see the wound.” Two-toes face was as white as a sheet.
Catscratch shook his head. “Too late,” he managed to rasp. “Flying aswang took Chains. She was still alive. I’m done.” His words were a whisper.
He shuddered one last time.
They gently laid him on the forest floor.
Silence pressed in around them.
Sgt. Butcher closed Catscratch’s eyes.
“Fuck!” Mouthy hacked her machete into the side of a tree.
“It would’ve taken Chains to their village. We have to go after her,” Aims said.
“Maybe that’s what happened to Fin,” Two-toes said.
Sgt. Butcher glanced as Smores.
“I can fight, sarge. Just need some help getting around,” Smores said.
“Fuck it. I’ll carry the nerd,” Mouthy snapped. “Let’s go!”
“What about ‘scratch?” Hardhat said softly.
“We don’t leave anyone behind,” Sgt. Butcher said. “We’ll burn him and bring the ashes back home. He deserves to rest with the others.” Her thoughts turned to the other fallen members of 13th Squad.
Iz, One-eye and Punchkicker.
Catscratch was part of that list now.
Another death under her command.
“Two-toes, can you do it quickly?”
“I— I—” Two-toes swallowed. “Yeah. I can,” she nodded.
“Okay. Good. We’ll say our farewells later when we have time. ‘Scratch would understand. There’s still a chance we can save Chains. She’s an intelligence asset to the aswangs. They’ll keep her alive for questioning.”
There was always a chance.
Sgt. Butcher had lived by those words ever since the spires had appeared.
It had gotten her through dark days.
----------------------------------------
Follow the beastwoman.
Fin listened.
It hadn’t steered him wrong yet.
Directions had been rare. Emerging only when the stakes and rewards were great.
Still, Fin had hesitated when he had been instructed to remain underneath the concealment spell after he had dispelled the berbalangs’ illusions.
It had been difficult to watch as the rangers, the squad he was supposed to be a part of, battle for their lives.
Despite the voice’s protests he hadn’t been able to resist lending a hand in disrupting the berbalangs’ attempts at magic.
It was telling that he hadn’t managed to soothe his conscience. Especially, after listening to the voice and drawing the berbalangs back after they had decided to flee.
That decision almost cost the rangers their lives.
It did not.
Only because that hot, scary woman, Rino came in to save them.
She was all scary now, in her weredog form.
Fin hoped that she couldn’t sense him.
Her senses are insufficient.
He wondered if he had made the right decision in leaving the squad.
They will slow you down and dilute your potential gains.
Fin felt a surge of eagerness flow from his chest to the rest of his body. If he could kill the aswang leader, the gabu-something by himself—
Then you reap all that strength for yourself.
He would grow that much stronger, that much quicker. There would be less things in the terrible world that could hurt him then. More steps on the path to true freedom and safety.
He hoped that the rangers would understand.
They will have no cause to complain after you have defeated the enemy leader. You owe them no explanation.
Fin doubted that.
Follow the beast woman. She will draw attention. She will clear your way.
Fin listened.
Rino couldn’t shake the feeling that something was on her tail.
Not an aswang. She already had their scent.
She couldn’t smell or hear anything.
It was instinctive.
Something dangerous was close.
Which, considering she was headed to the aswang village, was to be expected.
She decided that must’ve been it.
The most dangerous aswang were waiting somewhere in there.
At least according to the little aswang turncoat.
She wouldn’t have taken the girl’s word for it, but Cal was sure.
She still didn’t have a good read on Remy’s older brother.
The only thing she could say was that the man had been through some shit.
He had that look in his eyes.
Not to mention the missing fingers.
She had seen and given many such injuries.
His fingers had either been torn off or bitten off.
The knowledge that something existed out there that could do that to a person with that level of power made Rino… uncomfortable.
She’d never admit to being afraid.
In any case, she had strict instructions not to engage the strongest aswangs. All she had to do was move fast and cause chaos in the village.
Something well within her capabilities.
Rino shifted into her dog form when she reached the tree line.
She approached the village from the opposite side as the attacking force headed up by Watch Captain Lawrence.
A large clearing several hundred yards wide separated Rino from the village gate.
It was dark.
No torches or lights on the walls.
It would’ve been a strange sight if Rino hadn't known that the aswangs could see in the dark.
She could make out two figures standing a top the wall over the wooden gate.
Time to sell it.
Rino trotted out and made sure to have her best doggy grin and wagging tail as she walked right up to the gate.
“Hey, do you see that?” one of the guards said.
“Yeah… a dog,” the other guard replied.
Eyes narrowed.
“Nice doggie, what’re you doing out here? And how did you get past our patrols?”
“We’re under attack, stupid. Mr. Justino’s probably had them go help on the other side. Just our luck to be stuck here. We’re missing out on all the feasting.”
“Don’t call me that and don’t worry. They’ll save us more than enough.”
“Yeah, sure, but it’s not just about that. It’s about getting my hands wet, you know? It’s not as good if you don’t get your own food.”
“Sure, sure. I get that… so what do we do about the dog?”
“It looks to be in pretty good shape. Really big…”
Grips slowly tightened around assault rifles.
“I haven’t seen a dog in years, but you’re right.”
The wall was only about twenty feet high.
Rino leapt.
The guns spat lead.
A few hit Rino.
Like bee stings.
Her jaws crunched over one guard’s head. She tore it off with a shake.
The other guard dropped his gun and began to transform.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Rino did the same.
She was quicker.
The second guard’s monstrous head fell over the side of the wall followed by his body.
Rino descended into the village.
See, the beastwoman cleared our way.
Fin decided to wait fifteen minutes before following Rino inside.
----------------------------------------
Fres dumped a human woman at Justino’s feet.
“One of the attackers?” Justino said.
Fres reconnected to the lower half of her body she had left near Justino. “They appear to be foreigners. Although, they speak our language for some reason.”
“Universal translation,” Justino nodded.
The woman pulled out a gun and opened fire.
Justino’s long hair moved with a mind of their own, blocking the bullets and ripping the gun out of the woman’s hand, along with a few of her fingers.
She screamed.
Justino picked the woman up by her hair. “Why have you attacked us?”
The woman spat in his face.
“Her group was small in number. I think there are dozens if not hundreds of these teams out there. It’s the only explanation for how they’ve been able to hurt us so badly,” Fres said.
“They’ve managed to breach the eastern side of the wall, but our brave fighters took the fight to them. The dark forest is our domain. These people will learn that costly lesson.” Justino’s words didn’t reflect his concerns.
He didn’t know what exactly was happening out beyond the village walls.
Porfiro was having difficulty connecting to the family.
Even the connection to Justino was proving tenuous.
“You’ve done good bringing this human back, Fres. The first sentries to report back weren’t able to give me a description of the attackers.”
Fres frowned. “Powerful magic then? As you can see, they are plainly human.”
“What are your levels?” Justino stared blankly at the woman.
“Our weakest are almost 50,” the woman sneered.
“A lie,” Fres said. “I can feel her blood racing through her veins. Her heart might burst with how terrified she is. Let me take her inside. I’ll get all the information you want.”
Justino could see that just as well. “This is best left to the Elder. He’ll get what we need,” he regarded the woman as she ineffectually punched and kicked at him. “That experience will be excruciating. I suggest you tell us everything, if only to spare yourself unnecessary suffering.”
“She’s a magic user of some kind. Something to do with this,” Fres handed a small pipe to Justino.
Justino thrust the woman to a young man standing next to him. “Put her in a cage. Away from the other two.”
The young man dragged the woman into the house.
“You, fetch the Elder,” Justino said to a young woman.
Fres scowled.
“What?” Justino sighed.
“You’re hiding something,” Fres said.
“How many of your hunters went to the city?”
“Ten… you knew that.”
“Not enough to count on,” Justino said.
“Does this have something to do with the fact that the Elder has been silent? He hasn’t been guiding us like he usually does when the village faces a serious threat,” Fres snarled with realization. “I had thought that this wasn’t something to be concerned about going by his silence. I had thought that he wasn’t coordinating because he wanted us to deal with the attack ourselves so that we’d get more Universal Points and levels.”
“You thought wrong,” Justino said. “Still… I had suspected that we were facing higher leveled foes or some new kind of monster. The human you brought back kills both theories. You saw them up close… thoughts?”
“I’m a Level 25 Aswang: Manananggal, which means I’m the equivalent of a Level 35-40 human Class. The woman I brought back. Her team killed Imelda, but it took all of them working together and they used salt in their guns.”
“This is information you should’ve given me right away!” Justino snapped. His nerves had been fraying all night. He hadn’t realized how much he had grown reliant on Porfiro’s ability to connect the family. He didn’t like not knowing how they were faring out there without him. “Why didn’t you help Imelda?”
Fres bared her teeth before hastily looking away. “Sorry… I was too far to help her.”
“How did they use the salt in their guns?”
“In shotguns,” Fres shrugged.
“They used rock salt in their shells,” Justino growled. He mastered himself with an effort. “Continue what you were saying.”
“Fine… I was going to say that Imelda was only Level 18, so if it took 9 humans to kill her then that means they were all in the low to mid 20’s. I left them for the berbalangs to deal with.”
“You could’ve killed them had you stayed.”
Fres felt a shiver run across her spine.
Justino’s face was without expression, yet…
“Yeah, but I thought you’d want information. I would’ve stayed, but I had decided to finally listen to your lectures.”
Justino’s hair writhed.
There was barely a breeze.
Fres took an involuntary step back.
“Okay… okay,” Justino muttered. “Calm… I’m out of runners right now. I need you to ring the bell to gather the non-fighters and unchanged in the meeting hall,” he gestured to the large barn-like structure on the other side of the dirt road. “You remember the sequence?”
“Yeah, but you need me here. If the attackers make it inside I want to fight by the Elder’s side. I’m the next strongest after you,” Fres whined. “At least let me continue hitting the attackers. I can bring you more captives. Fresh blood and meat will keep us strong.”
Justino forgot how young she was, so he tempered his words. “There is something dangerous out there. I can feel it in my gut. I’d have the Elder recall everyone if that was possible.”
“Whatever, you’re the boss,” Fres pouted as she stomped away to comply with Justino’s orders.
He sighed and waited for Porfiro to arrive.
Once they’d crack the human woman’s head they’d be able to come up with a plan to defeat the attackers.
Justino was looking forward to feasting on those that dared hurt his family.
The bell set in the nearby watch tower rang in the proper sequence.
Justino was relieved that Fres hadn’t screwed it up.
They had drilled for emergencies.
It would take less than a few minutes for his more vulnerable family members to leave their homes and gather in the meeting hall. The central location meant it’d be easier to defend.
For the second time in less than ten minutes light flashed, briefly turning night into day.
The crack of thunder followed a split second later.
Several small structures exploded near the eastern wall.
A few charred bodies were among the debris that rained down.
Justino saw it all in slow motion thanks to his enhanced perceptions.
He leapt up to the roof of the interrogation house for a better look.
A scant handful of figures sprinted across the clearing.
Human.
The attackers were about to breach the village.
Justino had no illusions about what had happened to the balbal force that had been on the wall before taking the fight to the attackers in the rainforest.
At least his family, including Ramon, had died well.
They had whittled the enemy down from hundreds to a few.
Easy enough for the remaining defenders to handle.
“Hoy!” Justino whistled.
A small group of young men and women came rushing out of one of the nearby structures.
His reserve. Low levels and little combat experience.
Justino was counting on numbers and home advantage. Not to mention that the attackers must’ve already spent a lot of their spells and Skills.
“You’re going to back up the guys at the breach. Stay back and let the veterans engage first. Jump in only if it looks like they need help. Strike from the darkness and gang up on the enemy.
Eager faces stared at Justino with rapt attention.
“Well… what are you waiting for? Go get them!”
The young men and women began to transform.
Except for one unlucky young woman.
Justino grabbed her arm. “Not you.”
Her face fell.
Justino shook his head. It wasn’t like he was telling her she couldn’t take part in the feast. No one was going to miss out after they had won. He’d see that everyone got more than enough.
“I need you to go to the mangkukulams.”
The young woman’s disappointment turned to fear.
“Just deliver my message then get back here. Tell them to begin the kulam. Their targets are everyone inside the village that isn’t part of the family.”
As his young charges eagerly, minus one, went to do their part, Justino struggled to push aside an unfamiliar feeling that had taken root in his chest ever since the fight had started.
He hadn’t felt it in so long that he only just realized what it was.
Fear.
Not just for his village and family.
Not even only for himself.
But also for Porfiro.
The thought was blasphemous.
The Elder was the strongest in the entire area.
Why did it feel like they were on the edge of disaster?
----------------------------------------
Mrs. Reyes heard the bell.
Each subsequent ring sent panic flooding through her.
Emergency.
Get to the meeting hall as quickly as possible.
She had already been awake.
She was new to being an Aswang: Balbal, but the call of flesh and blood was something ingrained in the Class. There was death in the air and she could feel it in her bones.
She was thankful that the village provided her with plenty of flesh to keep her mind from going out of her control. Otherwise she might’ve harmed her—
No.
Never.
She’d never do that to her precious baby boy.
Which was why she had wanted the Elder to grant him the change as soon as possible.
If her son was no longer just a normal human then there would be no temptation. No matter the circumstances.
She could see the way some of her neighbors looked at her baby.
To be fair she looked at the other unchanged in a similar fashion in her hungrier moments.
Mrs. Reyes shook her son awake and ushered him out of their small, but cozy home and into the warm night.
She clutched his hand tightly as she half-dragged him along the dirt path, joined by several others.
Noncombatant aswangs and their human family members, some as young as toddlers, hurried to the meeting hall.
“What’s going on, Mommy?”
“It’s nothing, sweetie. Just a drill. You remember those, right?”
Her precious son yawned, but nodded.
“I was having a good dream,” her son pouted. “I was flying over the trees! Does that mean I’ll be a berbalang when I can finally change?”
“Ay nako, I told you already that you start as a balbal or a mandurugo… I’ll bet you’ll be a mandurugo since you’re already so handsome!” Mrs. Reyes tried to smile, but every instinct inside of her was screaming for her to move faster.
“But you’re a balbal, shouldn’t I be like you?”
“You can be whatever you want.”
This time Mrs. Reyes smiled at her son.
They had been so lucky that the Elder had seen something in them to make them a part of the family.
“Then I want to be l—”
Their world exploded.
Mrs. Reyes wrapped her son up in a tight embrace with strength and reflexes that her middle-aged appearance belied.
The force threw her like a doll and slammed her into a house on the opposite side of the path.
Brick and wood broke as she plowed into it and out the other side.
“Are you okay, baby?” Mrs. Reyes groaned.
Her back was on fire. She could feel jagged wooden splinters and bits of brick in her back.
It hurt, but not as much as she expected.
Her pain didn’t matter.
Only her son’s safety did and she thanked the Elder that she was strong enough to keep him safe.
Mrs. Reyes opened her eyes and stared into her son’s… unblinking eyes.
His neck was turned at an odd-looking angle.
A tiny droplet of blood dribbled out the corner of his delicate mouth.
There had always been more of her long-dead husband’s features in her son.
Her dead son.
Realization.
Mrs. Reyes wailed.
A cry that was echoed by others in the vicinity.
How many had died because they were too young to be granted the gift?
The anguish of grief turned into screams of rage as the survivors lost their grip on the human part of their thoughts.
The aswangs transformed.
Balbal and mandurugo.
The former were beastly.
The latter beautiful if not for their impossibly long, sharp-tipped tongues.
They all wanted blood and flesh.
Mrs. Reyes stared down at her son’s body from her now seven-foot-tall height.
She dipped her head down, her too-large mouth and jaw distended.
No!
She stopped.
Never that.
She turned away and cast about for something else to focus on.
The other dead bodies.
Then she sensed it.
A warm body.
A living one.
A young man, nearly just a boy himself stepped out of a ruined home.
A magical glow within his chest was faintly visible to Mrs. Reyes’ supernatural senses.
“There… he killed my baby!” she pointed.
The aswangs attacked in a disorganized mass.
Each one wanted to be the first to tear their loved ones’ killer to pieces and feast on his flesh and drink his blood.
The young man spread his arms wide and a black wave of crackling energy in the shape of a claw emerged from the space in front of his chest, sweeping across the first rank.
Aswangs body parts disintegrated where the wave touched.
A mandurugo, Mrs. Reyes annoying neighbor, leapt off the back of a dying balbal and sent her tongue spearing toward the young man.
The young man dived to one side, but was too slow.
The sharp tongue stabbed through his armor and clothing into this stomach.
Before the mandurugo could begin sucking up the young man’s viscera, his fingers and hands twisted.
A glowing pane of magic appeared in front of his body, shearing through the tongue.
The young man’s face twisted with pain and disgust as he grabbed the wriggling tongue and ripped it out of him.
His fingers danced again and a faint, green glow suffused the area around the pinprick hole in his stomach.
The trickle of blood stopped as the hole healed shut.
The young man’s face burned with undisguised hatred to match the aswangs. He burned more of Mrs. Reyes’ neighbors with tendrils of dark fire that whipped around as if they had minds of their own.
They weren’t fighters. They were new to their class. Their levels were too low.
Still, they threw themselves at the boyish young man.
And died.
It didn’t matter.
Not to Mrs. Reyes.
Her one reason for living was dead.
Snuffed out by a heartless foe that cared nothing for her son’s bright smile.
She circled around as the others braved the wall of fire the young man conjured in front of him.
Their death screams concealed her approach to the young man’s right.
She sprang.
Long limbs carried her across the short distance quickly.
The young man turned to face her.
Her hooked claws slapped out, clumsy, but with her supernatural strength it was enough.
She tore through the young man’s chest plate and drew blood.
The glowing light in the young man’s chest flared.
This time she didn’t need her supernatural senses to see it.
She recoiled at the brightness.
Something hot tore through her stomach.
Pain unlike any other spread through her insides.
What did it matter?
Her baby was gone.
Life was over.
She just wanted to make the murderer pay before she went to join her son.
Mrs. Reyes lunged forward with her grotesquely distended mouth.
She anticipated the sweet taste of revenge.
Claws punctured the top of her head and her shoulder.
She felt a tearing sensation, followed by disorientation as the world suddenly spun end over end.
Her last thought was of her baby boy as her vision went black.