Chapter 27: Burning Mince

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Hundreds of miles from Lyons, in the sparse southern woods of Kelra, the ground trembled as the sky roared.

"Everett!" Dane yelled.

It would be a surprise if the Ilien prince could hear the warning over the howling winds, but he turned sharply, just in time to avoid the lethal swipe of a beastly claw.

This particular beast was a six-legged combination of a giant spider and lizard the size of two carriages—large, yet still not one of the largest they'd encountered yet. Four horns protruded from its forehead, each one sharp enough to gut a man through iron armour. At least four of its eight eyes narrowed in on Prince Everett, keen in its murderous pursuit, while the other four watched its surrounds.

Around them, brave men and women from their four-kingdom alliance were locked in battle with beasts of all manner of shapes and sizes. Some were uglier than others, but the long fangs, sharp claws and beastly strength were common to all. In the first days, each of these creatures shocked and horrified them to the core, to the point that some men threw up at the sight of them. A whole month on, they were numb to it all, or forced to be so.

Crouched behind the fallen truck of a tree, Dane notched an arrow, aiming it for one of the many eyes of the spider-lizard. Spread out and hidden behind trees and shrubs around him, a dozen archers followed suit, drawing their bowstrings taut, each aimed at a vulnerable part of the monstrous creatures before them.

At the next thunderous howl of the wind, Dane released his arrow into the field, accompanied by a dozen other projectiles.

Only, he'd misjudged the power of this storm. Even the winds aided the beasts as they forced his arrow and most others off their trajectories, and the sharp points rebounded off the scaled armour of the beasts as if they were paper darts seeking to penetrate a brick wall.

All at once, the beasts swivelled their heads, their red and black eyes glinting as they switched their focus to the King of Asis.

Well, fuck. "Come at me, you ugly fuckers," Dane taunted under his breath.

As if in response, the spider-lizard ceased toying with Everett and tilted its horned head, screeching an ear-piercing shriek to rally its allies before it gave chase.

Another misjudgment: the massive, stumpy creature moved faster than it looked. Swallowing another curse, Dane turned and ran.

Before the night, they'd mapped out the terrain with as much care and thoroughness as they could, but nothing felt the same with abnormal gusts of wind beating into him, his battle-worn boots trampling the muddy forest floor, and otherworldly creatures chasing after him with such strength that the ground quacked and shuddered beneath his feet.

As Dane dashed between a narrow gap between a shrub and a tree, a southerly gust crashed into a tree in his path.

In the next second, a heavy branch came crashing down, narrowly missing him by three feet. Another curse. He had a brief moment to gauge his options: leap over the gnarly branches of the obstacle ahead or to change his course. Unfortunately, the choice was taken from him as the first of the beasts charged towards him.

Dane rolled to the side, dodging, skidding through a half-melted patch of snow before he was on his feet again, sprinting for the copse of trees in the distance.

The beast closed in with every breath, its companions following close behind, each one of them lured by Dane, the prime target in each and every one of their encounters. It was why he had to do this—play the bait in spite of the strong opposition from his men.

Soon, he came upon the trees that marked the precarious edge of a steep downhill slope. This was it.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder, just in time to see two of his pursuers burst through the thicket and countless pairs of fellow demonic eyes gleaming from the shadows.

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