The night air carried the scent of wood smoke and roasted meat as Huntar, Zena, and Torag made their way through the bustling bear village, the Steel Axe Clan. Laughter and raucous cheers spilled from the tavern up ahead, guiding their steps after a hard-won victory against the Venom Spear Clan.

The Tree Elixir tavern became their favorite since they discovered it one cycle ago. It served the best honey ales and fresh meat for any adventurer whom the bears welcomed. Zena and Torag only enjoyed the honey ales, of course. Plant eaters hated meat.

Huntar grinned, the thrill of battle still coursing through his veins. He loved these celebratory nights when the clan could revel in their triumphs and drown their sorrows in honey ale. Zena matched his stride, her striped tail swishing each step, while Torag's heavy footfalls shook the ground behind them.

As they pushed through the tavern doors, a wave of noise and body heat enveloped them. Burly bear warriors bellowed drinking songs, tankards sloshing with each boisterous movement. Huntar swept his gaze across the crowded room, searching for an empty table.

"Over there," Zena called, pointing with her staff.

They wove between the revelers, Huntar's powerful frame clearing a path. Chairs scraped against the worn floors as they claimed a small, unoccupied table in the corner.

"What a fight!" Zena slammed her hands down, grinning. "You should have seen the look on that snake pig's face when I cracked his skull."

Torag grunted, the hint of a smile tugging at his leathery lips. "Torag."

"Easy for you to say." Huntar chuckled. "You just had to stomp on their bones."

A buxom bear waitress strutted over, her tray laden with mugs. "Celebrating again, I see?"

"Trina!" Zena looped an arm around the woman's waist, pulling her into a loose embrace. "Where else would we revel in our conquests?"

Trina laughed, her deep voice cutting through the din as she extricated herself. "I'll bring you the usual, then."

As she sashayed away, Huntar leaned back, basking in the familiar smells and sounds. His newly earned gem pouch felt heavy, jingling with the promise of restocking their supplies. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine what life might be like without the endless conflicts, and the fear of not waking on the morrow.

The thought vanished as quickly as it came. Such dreams were for fools. The Clan Wars shaped their reality—they would fight or be crushed beneath the boots of their enemies. Better to accept the harshness of their world than to delude oneself with fantasies.

Trina returned, her tray laden with mugs of deep amber honey ale. She grinned as Torag wrapped his thick fingers around one, downing it in two gulps.

"Don't go too fast, big boy." She settled the remaining tankards on the table with a wink. "I'll be back with more before you know it."

As she disappeared into the crowd, Zena snagged her mug, raising it high. "To fallen enemies!"

Huntar clinked his tankard against hers, the familiar words spilling from his lips. "And reclaimed glory!"

They drank deep, the tartness of the sweet ale coating Huntar's tongue. He could already feel the warmth spreading through his limbs, easing the ache of their recent battles.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Do you remember," Zena began, her eyes distant, "when we first met Jenny?"

A pang of sadness lanced through Huntar's chest. The memories came unbidden—the human woman, with her fearless spirit and strange magic, ripped from their world in a blinding vortex. He pushed them aside, stamping down the guilt that never seemed to fade.

"Hard to forget she fell just like her father." His voice was gruff. "She was a great companion.”

Torag rumbled a low agreement, his brow furrowed.

"To Jenny!" Zena raised her mug once more, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "The bravest human to walk our lands."

They drank in somber silence, mourning the loss of their friend. So many had fallen in their brutal existence, but Jenny's sacrifice still left a hollow ache.

Huntar drained his tankard, slamming it down with a resonant thud. "She wouldn't want us moping. We have another round to buy!"

As if on cue, Trina materialized with a fresh tray. Her smile faltered, taking in their grim expressions.

"What's got you three looking so glum? Didn't you win another battle?”

"Just remembering an old friend." Zena forced a grin, scooping up her newly filled mug. "But Huntar's right, no more brooding!"

The jovial atmosphere gradually enveloped them once more than they drank and swapped embellished tales of their adventures. Huntar regaled them with the story of when he'd single-handedly felled a rampaging Tyrant, growing more animated with each passing round.

Raucous laughter filled the air as Zena pantomimed the snake man she'd bashed over the head, her movements exaggerated by the drink. Even Torag let out a rumbling chuckle, shaking his massive head.

And for a few blessed hours, they could forget the harsh realities that awaited them beyond the tavern walls.

A distant explosion rocked the room, the thunderous boom reverberating through the floorboards. Huntar jumped to his feet ears pricked and shoulders tensed as screams erupted outside. He met Zena and Torag's equally alarmed gazes, his hands reached for his sword.

"Venom Spears?" Zena hissed, her earlier mirth evaporating.

Before Huntar could reply, the tavern doors burst open, frantic villagers scrambling inside. A chorus of shouts and cries filled the air, fueled by panic.

"Raiders!"

"They attacked the eastern edge!"

Huntar shoved his way through the crush of bodies, his powerful frame clearing a path. Burly bear warriors girded themselves, swords and axes gleaming in the torchlight as they rushed to join the fray. He followed the stream of people flooding into the street, Zena and Torag at his back.

Chaos reigned outside, the pungent stench of smoke choking the air. Flames licked at the thatched rooftops, throwing grotesque shadows against the churning throngs. Huntar blinked against the stinging haze, trying to pinpoint the source of the attack.

A massive, armored truck barreled through the village gates, plowing through flimsy huts and stalls. Huntar tensed, bracing for the familiar sight of the ruthless Venom Spear raiders. But the soldiers that piled out were like nothing he'd ever encountered.

Clad in sleek metal armor, their helmets obscuring their features, the strange warriors brandished bizarre handheld weapons. As one raised his arm, a thunderous crack split the air, and a nearby bear crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

Huntar's breath caught in his throat as realization dawned. The armor, the power of their curious weapons—these were no ordinary raiders. An alien force had invaded their lands.

A towering, metal-clad figure emerged from the truck, dwarfing even Huntar. Wasting no time, the brute snatched a wailing child, ignoring the mother's anguished cries as she clawed futilely against his impenetrable shell.

White-hot fury blazed through Huntar as he watched the armored giant haul the terrified cub away. With a feral roar, he charged, his broadsword gleaming in the firelight.

Zena and Torag flanked him, their battle cries joining the fray as they rushed to defend the village. The first soldier turned just as Huntar's blade found its mark, cleaving through the strange metal plating as if it were paper.

The soldier crumpled, crimson splattering the dirt. Huntar wheeled on the next target, his blood singing with the thrill of combat. He wasn't about to let these invaders slaughter the innocent clan without a fight.

Metal crashed against metal as Zena brought her staff down on another soldier's helmet, the force of the blow staggering him. Torag barreled through their ranks, his thick hide shrugging off the strange projectiles as he gored and trampled any who stood in his path.

Despite their valor, the villagers were no match for the invaders' advanced weaponry and armor. Huntar felt the sharp sting of a projectile grazing his shoulder as he cut through another soldier. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched in horror as a bear warrior fell, clutching a wound that should have been minor yet bled profusely.

These were no ordinary weapons. He needed to end this quickly before more of his clan perished.

A boom shattered the night as one of the behemoth soldiers raised his arm, a cannon-like barrel extending from his forearm. Huntar tried to charge him, but the air seemed to ripple and distort before him. Then the netting struck.

White-hot tendrils of energy lashed out, coiling around Huntar's limbs and sending violent shocks coursing through his body. He bellowed in agony, convulsing as every nerve ending ignited in searing torture. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.

Beside him, Zena and Torag thrashed against the crackling restraints, their anguished roars mingling with Huntar's own. He could taste copper on his tongue as he bit back screams, fighting against the inexorable pull of unconsciousness.

Moments later, the darkness claimed him.