There was a roar, a strange, hollow sound that sent a chill down their spines. The monster suddenly went mad, thrashing around wildly, yet, despite its frenzy, its predatory instincts remained sharp.
The monster’s massive figure moved and maneuvered with unbelievable speed. To make matters worse, its hide was incredibly tough. It rammed into Sir Harold, who was trying to plunge his sword into its shoulder, and then charged toward the elven archers, who barely managed to leap out of the way.
Sir Sylwen produced a rope and tried to snare the monster's leg. He succeeded, quickly attempting to secure the rope to a stone protrusion on the ground. But before he could finish, the monster spun, dragging him along with it. Sir Sylwen let go and landed gracefully on the ground.
Lord Corvus, who had managed to retrieve his fallen sword, and Dexton, armed with his shield and blade, charged the beast. Dexton tried to draw the monster’s attention while Lord Corvus circled to the flank, slashing his sword at the creature's leg.
Dexton took this chance to bravely strike at the monster's face. It was a feint, Dexton did not dare face the beast head-on. He thrust forward and pulled back with speed.
The monster’s jaws snapped shut right where he had been a split second before. Dexton raised his shield to defend himself just as an arrow whistled through the air, striking the inside of the monster’s open mouth.
The sudden pain made the monster roar. Taking advantage of the opening, Dexton buried his sword deep into its mouth. However, the monster thrashed its head violently, forcing Dexton to let go of his weapon.
The creature's body spun, its whipping tail catching Dexton's legs and sending him tumbling to the ground. Lord Corvus retreated just in time, then ran to the beast's side, diving to slash with his sword and severing the tail.
The monster roared in agony. With arrows still buried in its flesh, its massive body at such close quarters was nothing but an easy target, and the nimble elven archers had no trouble landing their shots.
Realizing it was cornered, the beast suddenly changed its mind. Instead of running away, it somehow charged straight toward Adrian, who was still recovering.
Adrian’s eyes widened, bracing himself to dodge but making sure to get a hit in. He raised his dented shield just as Sir Sylwen appeared at his side, raising a hand that clutched a mysterious object.
A vibrant green light erupted, illuminating the surrounding area. The monster, its gaping jaws only a meter away, froze.
Adrian saw its pitch-black eyes tremble as a misty white film clouded over them. The beast stood paralyzed, its entire body shaking.
“Do it!” Sir Sylwen barked.
Ignoring the sudden, sharp pain in his chest, Adrian took a massive stride forward and plunged his sword into the monster's shoulder. But the tough hide resisted, and the blade penetrated only a few inches.
The pain seemed to make the monster tremble even harder. Its body jerked, and its head began to turn toward Adrian. Seeing this, Sir Sylwen thrust his glowing hand closer, forcing the beast to freeze once more.
Adrian let go of the hilt. In one fluid motion, he slammed his shield against the pommel of his sword, driving the blade deep into the creature's shoulder.
This final impact seemed to snap the monster out of its trance. With lightning speed, its jaws snapped shut around Sir Sylwen’s hand. But instead of the sickening sound of tearing flesh, there was only the screech of grinding wood and crushing metal plate.
Sir Sylwen, entirely focused on channeling the jewel in his hand, hadn't been able to dodge in time.
He thought his hand was gone for good, until he saw a crushed, ruined shield wedged in the beast's jaws, preventing his arm from being severed.
Adrian, who had intervened just in time, groaned loudly. His shield was practically crushed, and so did his hand holding it.
Green light erupted from the monster’s mouth, which was still clenched tightly around the shield. Up close, aided by the eerie glow, Adrian saw the creature's flesh tremble. Along the side of its jaw, strange protrusions throbbed violently before receding back beneath its skin.
Adrian briefly wondered what was happening, but a sharp pain flared in his chest, making him question if his gift had failed to heal him fully.
“Agh!”
Despite his agonizing state, he watched the others swarm the monster during that brief opening, hacking at its flanks. Sir Harold and Lord Corvus attacked from one side while the elves struck from the other.
The monster released its jaw from the shield, trying to shrug off the coordinated assault as it plowed ruthlessly through them.
“Stop it!” Sir Sylwen bellowed, plunging his sword into the monster's flank, his other hand still glowing to slow the beast down.
Adrian stumbled aside, nursing his crushed hand as he tried to pry it out of the ruined shield in agony. Dexton immediately rushed to his side to support him.
“Milord!”
“I am well.” Adrian uttered out.
He watched as Lord Corvus managed to slice through the monster's rear leg after a series of heavy slashes. The creature’s movements crumbled, yet it still dragged itself forward, a clear destination in mind.
Weaponless, Adrian could only watch as the party continued their assault on the beast. Still, it pressed onward until it finally slumped against the black obsidian stone they had encountered before.
Judging by the violent shaking of its body, it was still alive, if "alive" was even the proper word for what it had been.
Sir Sylwen stood up with the help of an elven archer, letting out a weary sigh.
“Why did it charge so madly at that stone?” Lord Corvus asked, flicking his blade to clear it of the beast's blood.
“You’ll see.” Sir Sylwen replied grimly.
Adrian exchanged frowning glances with Dexton and Sir Harold before they thrust their torches forward, casting light over the slumped monster.
The change occurred almost immediately. They watched in horror as the monster's flesh and blood seemed to melt and blend into the obsidian stone. In fact, a corrupt blackness was actively spreading across the creature's remaining body.
“…What is going on?” Lord Corvus asked, a grave, shocked tone into his voice that Adrian had never heard before.
“It is returning to its origin, while spreading it.” Sir Sylwen spoke, offering nothing more.
Unsatisfied with the riddling answer, Adrian opened his mouth to speak, but to his relief, he wasn't the only one demanding clarity.
“Let’s not speak in riddles while we are deep underground, Sir Sylwen.” Lord Corvus demanded. “What is happening here?”
Nevertheless, the elf seemed undeterred. “The source of underground monsters, Lord Corvus. But to know more, we must explore deeper.”
Sir Sylwen, accompanied by the other elves, stepped forward to stand beside the obsidian stone.
To the confusion of the humans, green light erupted once more from sir Sylwen hands again, and together they struck, shattering the obsidian stone.
The fallen monster thrushed, attempting to rise one last time, but an elven warrior plunged his sword through its skull in one powerful, decisive motion, finally ending its struggle.
With the stone destroyed, black bits and pieces of obsidian scattered across the cavern floor. One fragment rolled to a stop right at Adrian’s feet. As he watched, the deep, unnatural blackness of the stone began to fade, turning into ordinary grey rock.
Staring down at it, Adrian was sharply reminded that there was far more to this world than he had ever imagined.
With the beast slain and the corrupt stone shattered, it seemed they had accomplished their objective and could finally return to the surface.
Adrian should have been delighted. But for some reason… he wasn’t.
--
“Look!”
Someone pointed toward the gates, prompting the bustling townsfolk to pause and turn. A troop of riders was entering the city. Behind them, lashed to a sturdy cart, was a large carcass of a strange, terrifying monster, its dead form still carrying an intimidating presence.
“What kind of beast is that?”
“Is this the one? The one that killed a team of knights during the competition.”
“No, I heard it was something else entirely.”
The crowd’s whispered gossip quickly died down as the knights and several cloaked, mysterious figures rode past.
Among them, without helms, were Dexton, Adrian, and Lord Tuckstone, who were deep in conversation.
“You know, considering how strange these monsters are, I’m surprised they don’t carry diseases or plagues.” Adrian remarked, shifting slightly in his saddle.
“That is a mystery many have wondered about, and everyone is thankful they don’t.” Lord Tuckstone replied. “I’ve seen beasts carry localized poison in their glands, but never anything that could spread or act like a contagious sickness.”
“For all their horror and the trouble they cause, once they are dead, they really are dead then..” Dexton added. “I heard in wars, how quickly unburied bodies could spread disease if they weren't dealt with quickly.”
“You are correct, Sir Dexton. The aftermath of battle is always ugly, even when you win.” Lord Tuckstone agreed with a faint grim nod.
They navigated through the growing crowd, most of whom were pointing and staring in awe at the carcass on the cart. Bringing the monster’s massive body up to the surface had been a trial almost as grueling as fighting it.
“How is your hand, Lord Harrow?” Lord Tuckstone asked, gesturing toward Adrian, who was cradling his shield arm gingerly.
“It would be better if I got some rest.” Adrian replied, chuckling dryly.
In truth, he could have easily healed his hand using his gift, but he chose not to. Among other things, Sir Sylwen had seen his injury up close, he couldn’t just heal it away, but with it, he could easily use it as an excuse to retreat to his private quarters.
To hell with his earlier resolve to socialize with the lords and ladies at the tourney's end. He had done more than enough socializing. Now, he needed time to himself.
And, well… Adrian stole a quick glance at the cloaked elven figures riding ahead. He also wanted some uninterrupted time to get answers from the elves. He thought maybe he could sneak around at night to find them.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry of pain, followed by a frantic, pleading voice.
Adrian would have ignored it, but the voice sounded far too young to be begging and screaming in such pain.
Frowning, he pulled on his reins and halted his horse near the mouth of a wide alleyway. Dexton stopped beside him immediately, while Lord Tuckstone rode on for a few paces before realizing the others had stopped.
In the alleyway, which was wide enough to serve as a secondary road, stood two young men. Judging by their fine, expensive attire, they were noblemen. One of their faces was familiar.
Surrounding them were their personal guards and servants, currently beating a young boy who was desperately shielding an older, bloodied teenager with his own body.
“No, please, milords…!” the boy beg.
“You should have watched where you were going, boy.” a guard growled, raising a heavy club to strike again.
“Stop.” Adrian commanded.
His voice cut through the alley. The two young lords stiffened and turned to face him. As they did, a familiar face looked up at Adrian.
“Lord Cedric.”