Under the cover of the night, a hooded individual swiftly and quietly moved toward the eastern part of Ironspire. To ensure he wasn’t being tailed, he veered at constant intervals in alleyways, stopped, waited, and looked around to see if he was being followed. This careful measure was deliberate on his part to assure his safety. One careless action, he knew, would mean certain death. There was no sin more grave than betrayal.
‘Was that man following me?’
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the man just continued to move away from him. After ensuring that no other suspicious individuals were shadowing him, he ventured deeper into the alleyway. The remainder of his journey was uneventful. In the darkest and poorest areas of Ironspire, people knew whom not to cross, and a man wearing a black cloak in the dead of night was someone who fit that description perfectly.
Stopping in front of a rundown, abandoned house, he whistled three times in quick succession. After doing that, he once again glanced behind him to ensure no one was watching. When he made sure it was clear, he entered the small house and headed straight for the bathroom. Without delay, he knocked three times on the widest wall; a hidden door suddenly swung open, revealing stairs descending into darkness. With no hesitation, the hooded man entered and hurried down; it took him a couple of minutes to reach the bottom.
At the end of the stairway, he emerged into a small room with a table at the center. Four hooded figures waited for him, their identities concealed. In the walls, there were other stairs leading above, likely similar to the one he just entered.
“There you are,” one of the hooded figures said, sighing in irritation.
“You’ve finally decided to join us,” the one on the right muttered, displeasure evident in his tone. “You sure took your time.”
“Leave the child alone,” another one remarked, chastising his companion before gesturing his arm for him to a chair. “Please take your seat, Humphrey.”
Lowering his hood, the custodian’s head of security nodded, taking his seat and joining this small gathering. “I apologize for being late,” he said, his anxious expression clear to everyone present. “I took extra precaution because the old man is back.”
“Old man?” the one on the left asked, closely studying the emotions bubbling on the soldier’s face.
“I mean Jareth,” Humphrey clarified, sweat starting to appear on his forehead. “He’s famously known by his epithet ‘Sycthe.’ You know, he…”
All four hooded figures froze for a moment, their eyes widening in surprise. They exchanged glances before clearing their throats and feigning indifference.
“Enough. In our line of work, we obviously know who Jareth is,” the most acerbic of the quartet interjected, scowling at his companion to the left. “The real question is, why are we only now being told that he is alive?”
“Why are you blaming me?” he retorted back, growling at the criticism directed toward him. “I can only vouch for information within Thorin. Outside of it, our reach is limited,” he stated, turning his attention back to the soldier. “Do you know what happened to him? Where was he?”
Humphrey shook his head. “I don’t know, and I didn’t even try to ask. Knowing that old man, he won’t tell me,” he explained, stopping his shaking hands; this didn’t go unnoticed by the four men. “Also, I figured it was the wisest course of action. I should go unnoticed; otherwise, he might take an interest in me.”
“You did well,” the friendliest of the four said, while the others nodded in agreement. “Are you sure you weren’t followed?”
“I’m sure,” Humphrey responded confidently. “That’s why it took me so long to get here. I made sure the old man was drunk, drinking in a pub before going here.”
“Good. Now, let’s put aside this topic later and address the most urgent matter,” the one on the left said, his tone serious. “Do you know what happened last night with Crimson Talon?”
“I thought you guys were involved,” Humphrey responded, his eyes widening in surprise. “That’s why I was trying to provide Lysander with multiple possible culprits to confuse him and divert attention away from the Silent Dagger.”
“Us?!” the one on the right asked, clearly not looking too happy with the allegation. “Are you daft? Why would we kill those b*stards? Sure, we are rivals, but we’re not stupid enough to start a war with them. The losses would be…”
“Do you suspect Scythe’s involvement?” one of the hooded figures interjected, earning a scowl from his companion.
“That’s what I initially thought,” Humphrey responded, sighing in dejection. “Lysander and Jareth fought over it. It’s been clarified—Scythe wasn’t involved. He denied the accusation, and we don’t see a motive for him to kill them.”
“If not him, then who?” the one on the left asked, pondering the question. Suddenly, he threw a nail in the corner, followed by a shriek.
“What the?!” Humphrey hurriedly asked, turning behind him. “What the hell was that?!”
“Nothing, just a rat,” the hooded man replied, sighing in frustration. “You can go back now. Gather as much information on this incident as possible. I need to report it to the Duke.”
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Deep in the Wildwood Forest, where few dared to venture, a tall, brawny man stood confidently before a juvenile mossback, which towered almost as tall as him. These creatures were renowned for their colossal size; an adult mossback could grow as large as a hill. Legends even hinted that ancient variants of these colossal boars rivaled mountains in size.
Beyond their immense stature, these monstrous boars were famed for the vegetation that grew on their backs. It was from this characteristic that they derived their name; newly born mossbacks were covered in mosses, while adult ones carried entire trees upon them. Historical records even mentioned that some boasted entire forests growing on their immense backs.
Despite the extreme danger, the precious tusks and hides of these creatures were enticing enough for brave hunters to risk their lives. Not to mention the precious flora growing on their backs; these were some of the rarest plants that could only thrive on the backs of these massive boars. This wasn’t surprising, considering these creatures were beloved by prana. Among all these treasures, the wood from the trees on the backs of adult mossbacks was the most sought-after. This lumber was highly conductive of energy, making it ideal for crafting weapons of war.
Though tempting for hunters, this creature was endemic to the fringe of the northwestern part of Thorin, which meant it was not the only threat in the area. More terrifying monsters prowled these parts, making the hunter the hunted. This was why only the craziest b*stard would venture there—those who reveled in death and excitement.
“Come here, you hulking brute!” Blackclaw shouted, laughing excitedly at the impending clash with the massive creature. After stamping its hoof, the mossback squealed loudly in anger, attempting to drive out the intruders from its territory. Instead of panic, the huge man grew even more pumped as he stamped his foot in a challenge. “Fight me! Fight me, you dumb pig! Let’s see who’s stronger.”
Accepting the provocation, the juvenile mossback charged forward like an unstoppable avalanche, determined to destroy anything in its path. As its hoof slammed into the earth, the ground shook with the thunderous sound of its feet in the dark, starless night.
Before the enormous boar could strike Blackclaw, he delivered a powerful slap to the right side of the monster’s head. The force was strong enough to crush even a cultivator’s skull. As the momentum pushed the mossback’s body forward, the thug jumped to his right, effortlessly evading the huge mass of meat.
“Is that all? Come on, get up! We’re not done yet,” Blackclaw exclaimed with a wide grin, staring down at the trembling body of the enormous boar. Just as he was about to sigh in disappointment, the vegetation on the mossback’s back began to glow with a vibrant green light as prana from the surroundings transformed into a life-infused aura. This aura spread through the creature’s body, swiftly healing its wounds and revitalizing its vigor. “Ah, that’s more like it! I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
The enormous boar slowly stood up, trembling and trying to recover from the impact of the hit. As it regained its wits, the mossback's eyes turned crimson with fury. The monster’s green aura abruptly changed to brown, resembling the earth that surrounded it. Before long, this aura seeped into the mossback’s body, enhancing its already formidable muscles. The creature now towered thirty percent taller, its muscles double in size.
“This is more like it! Roarr!” Blackclaw exclaimed, letting out a ferocious roar into the cold night, exhilarated by the prospect of the challenge. Releasing his formidable aura, he immediately established a domain. As his power surged, dark fur suddenly sprouted all over his body, and his hands transformed into razor-sharp claws capable of slicing anyone to pieces. To an onlooker, he would easily be mistaken for a bear—a massive, half-human black bear whose presence would terrify anyone who saw it. Though his increase in size wasn’t as drastic as the mossback, any keen observer would notice the considerable power condensed within his body; steam seemed to rise from his muscles as the air around him shuddered. “Come and fight, you piggy!”
The mossback gladly accepted the challenge as it charged at Blackclaw with its full might. The power and speed of the rush were so great that its hoof left a deep depression in the ground. At that very moment, it was a battle between monsters, each determined to defeat the other.
As before, Blackclaw swiped his hand across the head of the mossback. With his razor-sharp claw, he easily sliced its face through its brain, killing it instantly. However, unlike before, he did not evade the enormous body of the creature. Instead, he stepped forward and grabbed the neck of the creature as he faced the full brunt of its momentum.
“Damn pig! Ah, ugh!” Blackclaw grunted as he braced himself for the impact. Sensing the considerable force behind the charge, he focused all his aura on his arms and legs, greatly enhancing their strength. Despite his efforts, the power contained in that attack still pushed him back a couple of meters, carving a deep trough into the ground before he managed to halt his movement. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, exhilarated by the intense encounter.
“Ah!” Blackclaw screamed, heaving the enormous boar before throwing it to the ground. “Roar!” he beat his chest in celebration before lifting his arms in the air, a sign of victory. “I’m f*cking invincible!”
“Hey, idiot, stop shouting! I’m hungry; hurry up!” Redwing exclaimed in irritation while kindling the fire to cook an eldron, a type of beast that could use aura.
This type of creature was hard to find, but it’s not so rare that it’s seldom seen. It’s just that this beast loved areas brimming with prana, which were usually far from human civilization—deep in the forest, atop mountains, or in the depths of the ocean. Whether this phenomenon was caused by civilizations driving away the eldron or civilizations staying away from such dangerous creatures, people had many differing opinions; if I were to make a bet, I would go with the latter. All of these creatures were dangerous, but some were cataclysmic—they could destroy cities simply by passing through. These monsters were considered natural disasters, against which people were powerless.
“You’re a killjoy!” Blackclaw retorted, releasing his domain as he transformed back into a normal human. Well, if your definition of normal was someone who didn’t have any fur, sure, but there was nothing normal about Blackclaw, who was a hulking specimen of muscles. “Why can’t you just let a man have his fun?” he asked, effortlessly dragging the mossback, which had now returned to its original size.
“Fun? We are deep in the Wildwood Forest, you idiot!” Redwing responded, scowling at his companion. “Not in some ghetto where you can do anything you want. With one wrong move, you might attract some very scary monsters. If that happens, I’ll be sure to leave you behind.”
“Coward!” Blackclaw exclaimed, snorting as he threw the mossback in front of the fire.
“Hey, be careful!” Redwing yelled, frowning at the hulking man. “I just made this fire. If you extinguish it, I’ll make you start it again, you idiot!”
“F*cking soarins, why are you so annoying?!” Blackclaw exclaimed as he plopped himself down across from his companion. “Now, it’s your turn. Hurry up, I’m hungry! You soarins…” Before Blackclaw could finish his words, a dagger infused with aura whizzed past, narrowly missing his head. As he turned to inspect the dagger, he saw that it had deeply embedded itself into the mossback’s thick hide. With any sudden movement, the blade could have easily killed him. Swallowing hard, he glared back at the woman and said, “Hey, why did you do that?!”