The armor was restless. It had ignored any presences and continued patrolling the moorlands, scaring away anyone it encountered.
It was a great change of pace, but Loran wanted to break free and see the world. While he hated how the cursed armor murdered anyone in sight, he needed someone to fight it and defeat it.
A strange and selfish fear came over him.
What if the Moorland Menace stopped attacking people, and the people would stop attacking it in kind. He would never get free if that happened.
The armor bent down and picked up the umpteenth piece of trash of the day and incinerated it with spectral flames.
A family ran away at the sight of the Moorland Menace after holding a picnic.
Why these humans would hold a picnic on the moorlands, knowing the Moorland menace was a thing, was beyond Loran.
The cursed armor didn't pursue the family but did destroy their picnic by incinerating what had left behind.
The next destination was the stream.
Water spirits rushed at it, but no spectral flames this time.
It waded through the stream and caught floating trash and incinerated it.
The playful spirits didn’t understand what was going on and continued playing and blowing bubbles.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.
Humans and beast kin alike were becoming brave, as the Moorland menace hadn’t claimed any life in a long time.
It did scare anyone away, leaving trash behind, and Loran developed a theory; the Moorland Menace just removes anything that doesn't belong to the moorlands.
Humans and beast kin could be argued to fall under that category.
But why? Why now? And would the killing stop indefinitely, or would it start ‘removing’ humans again?
4 mice beast kin joined the Moorland menace and started cleaning the stream and surrounding area of anything that didn’t belong there.
It even had come to a point where beast kin as timid as those helped out.
The beast kin were a family, and Loran longed for his friends.
What would they be doing? Would they have noticed that he had been missing for months? Would they be sad or cry for him?
Would Reia miss him?
The Moorland Menace was silent, as were the mice beast kin, but Loran was convinced that nobody could give him the answers he needed.
The cursed armor leaped out of the water, startling the beast kin. ‘Zomp zomp’ went the footsteps as the Moorland menace walked through the mud.
It sat down after a 10-minute walk and started feeding the spirit's spectral fire.
The playful spirits continued blowing bubbles and cleaned and polished the armor.
The beast kin observed from the distance, and Loran wondered how this would look to them.
Spirits should be invisible to them, so the armor would appear to clean itself from mud and dirty spots.
Loran dug through his memory to determine if he had ever encountered something like that before.
----------------------------------------
It was on a day when Wild Claw had pushed his patrol duty on him. Both hated the task, but it had to be done.
“Ugh, stupid Wind Claw. I will get him back for this one day.”
Loran rubbed his head as he walked out of his village. His destination was the nearby hill, close to the origin of what his friend dubbed the ‘Wild Claw creak’.
It was wildly confusing as it was the third stream or water creak he named after himself. His solution was to add numbers to them, but Loran couldn't remember which number belonged to which.
Why patrols were needed was unclear to Loran. Their village was extremely remote and in the middle of a jungle. Few animals and monsters were stupid enough to wander in and the occasional lost humans weren’t a threat either.
Rumors from other villages had spread saying a war between the Aquini Kingdom and the Igrini Kingdom was drawing near and would catch Lopahz in between, but that’s all they were; rumors.
Even if a war would break out, what would a patrol accomplish?
Loran caught a snake by the neck which lunged at him.
“You’re not a threat either…”
The snake got tossed aside and Loran followed a small path through the jungle.
A diligent person on patrol wouldn't take the path many before him had made, but everyone had gone complacent and followed the same route.
Clawing through the foliage and making new paths was a waste of energy and, moreover; noisy.
The Wild Claw stream with the unknown number came in sight and loran stopped to rest.
Nothing indicated suspicious activity and any living being needed water and rest.
Nothing got picked up by his sensitive nose, his keen ears only heard sounds related to the wind and the water steam. Some bird calls and the splashing of fish but nothing out of the ordinary.
His eyes…
Was that a moving rock?
Loran rubbed his eyes to ensure he was seeing a rock and not a well camouflage tortoise.
His eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, it was a flat hand sized rock that was moving as if it were light enough to become affected by the stream.
It was pure coincidence that he had spotted this.
The location of the strange rock got marked mentally, and Loran crouched and started to scout the area cautiously. He wouldn't want to be caught by surprise when investigating that strange rock.
The biggest problem was this stream. Anything could get washed down to his patrolling area without warning.
Loran found an elevated spot downwind of the area of interest and used his nose to find out if any suspicious scent was being carried by the wind.
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Nothing out of the ordinary was spotted, either.
The area got combed out for 30 minutes when Loran decided that everything was safe.
He returned to the suspicious rock, which was still moving.
Loran crouched down next to it but didn't see, smell or hear anything that could move it.
“No mana disturbances either. Hmm."
Loran poked the air around the rock where he expected something to be.
Nothing.
This mystery captivated him. Either the rock was alive or some invisible, undetectable being was at work.
The rock stopped moving the moment he tried to pick it up.
He stepped back and waited for it to move again but it behaved just like a regular rock.
“Did I scare it off?"
There was no way Loran could tell. He wasn't even sure if he wasn't imagining things.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Wild Claw certainly would make fun of him if he heard about this.
Loran got up and was ready to dismiss this as his mind playing tricks on him when he noticed another rock moving upstream.
“Surely…”
Loran abandoned his duty as curiosity took over.
The rock was different but moved similarly.
It continued its behavior until Loran attempted to pick it up.
Another rock moved upstream, and Loran was sure of it now. This wasn't a hallucination, something tried to catch his attention.
The trail continued and led him far outside his designated area. The rocks stopped moving but branches started to ruffle strangely.
Loran slowed down as he ensured he wasn't walking into a trap or if the wind was responsible.
He was nearing the mountainous area when he smelled blood.
The trail led him straight to the source.
Loran lowered his body and slowed down, still following the trail.
That's when he stumbled on an unconscious human male, bleeding from his head.
He wore a strange attire and had an unusual amount of rope in him.
Loran looked up to the tall rock wall not too far from him.
The trail had stopped here. Whatever grabbed his attention led him here.
Loran didn't approach the unconscious human yet but scouted the area.
Several predatory animals and monsters were nearby but hadn't noticed this human for some reason.
An inattentive songbird got grabbed and would serve as a snack for Loran.
“Do humans eat birds?"
Loran circled around a pheasant he had spotted, pounced on it and snapped its neck.
He returned to the human and set up a small camp.
It wasn't what he expected to encounter, but something led him here.
The elders of his village would say it's the voice of the jungle. It's not a deity or an entity but something like the will of the jungle.
Loran never believed in it or understood it, but it would be difficult to discount it after this experience.
Part of the human's hair was moving strangely as the head wound healed at an abnormal rate.
“The voice of the jungle sure is mysterious…”
The healing stopped the moment the hair stopped moving, and the human groaned and moved minutes later.
"Ugh, my head. I should have checked my climbing gear.”
The human rubbed his head, sat up and stared into the eyes of a wolf beast kin.
"Aagh! Don't eat me!” the human tried to flee but failed and just covered his vitals.
"Relax, humans taste terrible. Also, I would have eaten you when you were out cold if I were interested. Do humans eat birds?”
The human relaxed and shifted his gaze at the fowl next to Loran.
“Kaledonian? And fluent?!"
Loran exhaled audibly and scratched his temple.
“We're still in touch with the outside world, even if it's limited. Even the inhabitants of the smallest and most remote village know Kaledonian, regardless of race.”
“I… I'm sorry. I'm not familiar with beast kin. Furthermore, I've always been told they're savages that can't be reasoned with.”
"Well, I've always been told that humans kill anything that's different from them.”
“Hahaha…hey…that one is actually true…” the human laughed at first which then died down. “So you're not a savage?”
"I might not, but I know many beast kin that would rip humans apart on sight. They would rather be the one to kill than be killed.”
Silence fell, and the human made himself comfortable.
“About the bird…we do eat birds. But…not like that.”
The human pointed at the feathered birds that had blood leaking out of their wounds.
“Hmm? How else would you eat it."
The human winced as he noticed that he had more injuries.
“Can you pluck it, drain its blood, remove its head and organs and heat it over a fire for me?"
Loran frowned.
“What?”
“It's how humans prefer their birds. We also add spices, but… that would be unreasonable to ask for.”
"That sounds like a lot of work. No wonder, humans are terrible at surviving in the wilderness. That's a lot of wasted time and effort.”
Loran ate the pheasant as he killed it but followed the human's directions to prepare the songbird.
“Do beast kin have names? My name is Jack."
“The name is Loran. Hey Jack, why would you get rid of the liver? It's nutritious!"
"Nice to meat you, Loran. Hehe, do you get it?!”
Loran was unaware of Jack's terrible pun and finished removing the organs and chucked the meat into the fire.
"Noo! Don't throw it in the fire!”
The songbird meat got recovered and hung above the fire.
“Humans are strange. My pheasant has already been digested…”
"Heh, you will see how great this will taste!”
“It does smell interesting, but… won't this just attract monsters?”
Loran got up as monsters had locked on the songbird meat.
"This won't take long.”
The first monster had no idea what was coming for it. Loran killed it so fast with his claws that he hardly had time to identify it.
Wind mana gathered around his hands and formed [Wind Claws] which tore into the hide of a jungle troll.
It was just a small lone troll.
The claws dug into the back of the troll, and Loran's fans went for the jugular.
The troll roared in pain and collapsed.
Loran gathered wind from the area, sucking up the scent of the roasted songbird, and concentrated it on the fallen troll.
“May you become nourishment for the jungle.”
Loran stealthily swept the area before returning to the human.
“You're back! Something strange happened! I can't smell the roasted meat anymore!"
Jack pointed at the browned meat while voicing his complaint.
“I relocated it. Unless you want to become troll food."
“Uhh, no, thanks. And thank you."
Loran and Jack started conversing. Jack told him about humans and let Loran taste some roasted songbird, and Loran told him about the wolf beast kin.
“How did you find me by the way? You said that the wolf beast kin don't get this close to the mountains normally."
"The will of the jungle brought me here.”
Jack cocked his head. "What? A local deity? Or do you mean the Sarian goddess Bellia?”
Loran shook his head. “I don't understand it either, but it was a sign that was otherwise unexplainable.”
“Hmm I see. Well thanks again. It sucks that I fell off the rock wall, but I might have never had an opportunity to talk to a beast kin if not for this fall. It makes me appreciate the people who fought for the continent's unification under one language. Conversing with you would have otherwise been impossible."
"That's cool and all, but you can't stay here. My shift…Wild Claw's shift is almost over, so I need to return to the village. I can't leave you here, so you're coming with me.”
Loran got up and started to clean their camping area.
"Wait wait! I am glad to have met you, but I'm not ready to meet a whole village!"
Loran smirked. “Too bad.”
Loran lifted the human who protested and screamed in pain and carried him away.
There was no danger as the dead troll and the scent of roasted songbird had attracted all possible problematic elements. It was something he came up on the fly, but it proved to be a great idea.
The stream zipped by and the jungle reappeared.
It didn't take long for Loran to make it to the village.
There were some stares, but the human got welcomed in. the village healer tended to his wounds and broken leg while Loran told the story of the ‘will of the jungle;.
Wild Claw made a fool out of himself by laughing like crazy, and it ended up in a fight.
Loran kicked his ass swiftly and his victory set off a party.
The human got to participate, and Loran showed off what he had learned from Jack and prepared meat like the humans did.
Jack stayed for a week before he was strong and healthy enough to return to his own community.
Any thought or mention of the ‘will of the jungle’ had disappeared and forgotten
Forgotten up until this moment.
----------------------------------------
A distant explosion woke Loran from his flashback.
‘Back to reality, eh?’ was what he thought as the cursed armor got into action.
The beast kin were gone. They had probably left a while ago. The spirits were still playing around.
Watching the spirits had become some sort of therapy for Loran. It put his mind to rest by watching them have no care in the world. He couldn't even feel envious. He was well aware that they might look happy and careless, that this was far from the truth. A spirit mage could come in to kidnap them, and they didn’t have the power to defend themselves. They had no rights, so no third party would save them, besides the Moorland Menace.
‘Thud, thud.’
‘Thud, thud, thud.’
The heavy footsteps sped up, and the moorlands flashed by.
The cursed armor expelled black fog, and the blue and black spectral flames burst out of it’s body.
Loran had never seen the Moorland menace this worked up. He could also feel it. The time of peace was over. Someone is going to die.
Voices. Many voices. It wasn’t just a group. It was a crowd.
‘Thud, thud.’
‘Thud.’
The Moorland Menace stopped.
In front of him was a mass of humans. Some large monsters in chains were mixed in between, and they were transporting strange machinery.
Loran didn’t recognize what they were. He knew what machinery was and how to recognize it, but the type and function wasn’t something he could determine.
Metal and electronium. That was all he knew about machinery.
One of Jack’s stories about the humans was that they had found a metal named electronium. It was dangerous and would explode in mana when coming in contact with the ambient mana, but the humans had used this.
Acquiring it was a dangerous job as it would explode on impact, when coming in contact with mana, when in contact with high temperatures or for no apparent reason at all. Loran and his villagers had shaken their heads at the human’s insanity after hearing about this.
It’s susceptibility to lightning magic made it release more mana in its explosions, and it had been processed and modified to become an energy source. It could make many objects act and move without a person pouring mana into it. Most if not all of Kaledon’s modern society was no running on it, as nearly everything was electronium powered.
Loran didn’t spot any humans pouring mana into the machines; they were moving by themselves.
There was one thing Loran was sure of, however. This was an army, the army from the Igrini Kingdom as they were coming from the north and not only that, possibly an invasion.
The spectral flame on the Moorland Menace blazed as it was getting ready for battle. Loran wasn’t a supporter of violence, but for this once, he wouldn't mind becoming a killer.