The carriage shook as it went over a rock, waking up the stranger out of sleep.

Dazed, he looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He seemed to be sitting in a shabby carriage. There were a few bundles of clothes, a heap of metal cogs, screws and a wrapped up tent laying around, slightly shaking as the carriage continued to move. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers tiredly and lifted the cloth in front to look outside.

“Oh, took ya a while to wake up”, said the middle-aged man driving the carriage.

He could see the cloudy night sky above, and mountains far away around him, covered in mist. He strained his eyes to look farther and he could see the outline of a town not far away.

“Is that Morvest?” the stranger asked.

“Yep, got ya to Morvest in 5 silver coins, just as promised!” the carriage driver said with his best business smile.

“You say as if you did me a favor”, the stranger said jokingly. “We both know you were headed back here anyway”.

“So a merchant can’t make some extra coin?” the driver replied back with a smile.

“No, you certainly can”, the stranger said as he got out and sat next to the driver.

“So what brings ya to this backwater town?” the driver asked. “We ain’t get visitors much often”.

“I suppose I’m looking to make some coin, just like everyone else”, he said while looking at the side of uneven road, listening to the sound of the hooves of the horses.

“I see... well, if there was coin to be made in that place then I wouldn’t be a travelling merchant, would I?” the driver said.

“So it seems”, the stranger replied. “You got a family in here?”

“Yeah. I’m thinkin’ of moving them from here to a walled city honestly, it’s not safe here with all them monstrosities”, the driver said dejectedly. “Ya be careful out there too”.

The stranger gave a half nod and took a deep breath. He could see the stables outside of the town only a few yards away. The stranger reached into the carriage and grabbed his burlap sack.

“I’m gonna be here at the stables for a few minutes, ya go on inside”, the driver said as he waved his hand to someone at a distance, the stranger could see two-, no three people near the stables.

A woman, a toddler little girl and a baby that the woman was holding.

“Ah- that’s my wife and kids”, the stranger could see a smile form on his face.

He wondered for a moment what they were doing at this time of the night.

“They’re here to welcome me, ya see. My daughter loves to greet me this way”, the merchant spoke up, as if reading his expression. “She insists on doing this. It’s a lot reckless but I can’t just find it in myself to deny the little imp these greetings”.

“How do they know of your arrival?” the stranger asked.

“I send a letter, informing ‘em of the time I’ll be roughly arriving at, it’s become a little routine now”, the merchant was grinning ears to ears at this point, looking at his daughter who was waving happily in the distance.

The stranger thought of getting off, he didn’t want to intrude on this supposed reunion.

“I’ll be heading to the inn, I suppose”, the stranger said as he waited for the carriage to come to a complete halt.

“By the way, didn’t catch yer name the whole time ya were riding with me. I’m Enizo, what about ya?” the driver asked.

“It’s Azlan, see you inside Enizo”, the stranger said as he jumped off.

---------------------------------------

Azlan walked on a grassy path that led to the few establishments that Morvest had to offer. It was pretty late so he didn’t catch sight of any resident outside, except the occasional town guard.

Azlan glanced around while looking for an inn or any communal place.

He sighted a wooden signpost a few feet away, it read:

“The Crooked Hare”

Seemed to be an inn.

The night was cold and the smoke rising from the chimneys was a welcome sight. He paused before entering, near the door there was some sort of a news board. His eyes fell to a worn out bounty poster, hardly legible. Azlan took a deep breath and ripped it off.

“No one’s gonna miss this anyways”, he mumbled.

He turned his head to look at the horizon, he could only see the smoke from the chimneys and the foggy mountains far away. Cursing the cold weather under his breath, he pushed open the door and walked in.

Azlan was greeted by the sight of a fairly empty inn, he could see someone sitting near the fireplace in the middle of the inn, presumably the keeper. He lifted his arm up to greet the innkeeper, who in turn responded with a slight nod to acknowledge his presence.

“Welcome traveler”, the innkeeper said with a tinge of surprise, as Azlan sat on a wooden bench near the fire. Morvest didn’t get much visitors, even more so on a night like this.

“Damn cold outside”, Azlan said as he warmed his hands with the heat of the fire.

“Ain’t it? What can I do for you?” the keeper said with a smile.

“Just a mug of your finest ale for now”, he replied.

“You got it”, the innkeeper said as he got up and walked to the counter at the corner of the hall.

Azlan eyed the place as he listened to the crackling of firewood and the ambient noises of the keeper pouring ale. It seemed to be a fairly regular inn, a few benches and tables in the main hall and rooms upstairs. The lack of music was apparent, due to the absence of a bard.

Not surprising, considering the situation of the town.

“Well, there you go”, the innkeeper said as he came back, holding two wooden mugs. “Dunno about finest but this is all Morvest has to offer”, he continued, handing Azlan the mug.

“Well as long as it doesn’t taste like piss”, Azlan passed a snarky remark while grabbing the glass.

He took a cautious sip, as if he was actually expecting piss in there, and gave a slight nod of approval after a moment.

“How is it? Not bad ain’t it?” the keeper asked with a faint grin.

“Better than expected”, Azlan replied.

“So, what br-“, the keeper’s question was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door opening accompanied by a loud thud. The howling gust of cold wind came in alongside a panicked Enizo.

“Shut the damn door already, you lout!” the innkeeper yelled, his voice muffled by the loud howling of the wind.

“Fuckin’ hell, not even a welcome”, Enizo said sarcastically as he slammed the door shut. “Gone senile I tell ya, cooped up all alone in here”. Azlan looked closely and he could see Enizo’s daughter peeking from behind him, clutching his leg.

“Oh shut it, you were here only last week, ain’t nobody gonna miss you, and your wife definitely didn’t”, the innkeeper said with a smile.

“Piss off”, Enizo said sitting on a nearby bench, his daughter also followed suit and sat next to him, barely managing to help herself on the bench with her little arms. “Pass me that mug ya got and some apple juice for the little imp”.

Azlan observed the brief exchange while sipping ale as the innkeeper handed over the mug to Enizo, and stood up to go to the bar. They seemed to be on good terms it seemed.

Hmm?

In the corner of his eyes, he noticed Enizo’s daughter staring at him curiously, like a cat.

Azlan thought for a moment and then rolled his eyes to the back of his head, neat little trick.

He glanced at her again and her doll-like little face was a mix of both amazed and shocked.

Heh.

The keeper returned with a small mug of apple juice and handed it to her.

She practically snatched it, must have been really looking forward to it. Perhaps this was the reason she came here in the first place.

“Where’s yer ‘thank you’?” Enizo prompted her to express gratitude.

“...Thank you...” she managed to eke out a meek response with a low voice.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to say that, your pa’s just being overbearing”, the innkeeper patted her head, ruffling her hair. “Now before you rudely interrupted me, I was just getting to know our guest here”.

“Ya mean the stowaway”, Enizo raised his eyebrow as he took a big sip.

“You mean the stowaway who paid coin”, Azlan replied back.

“You just interrupted me again, you dumbass”, the innkeeper complained.

“Alright, fine. I’ll leave ya alone, I’ll be drinking here, all by my lonesome”, Enizo said dramatically as he turned away to the other side of the bench, his daughter also imitated his expressions and turned away.

“So, what brings you here?” the innkeeper asked.

Same question again.

“Looking to make some coin”, Azlan replied half-heartedly.

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed by now, Morvest ain’t the place where you can make much coin, if any”, he replied back in disbelief. “You’ll be lucky if you get any work offered at all”.

“My work is a bit different”, he said as he sipped the last of the ale remaining in the mug.

“Oh, how so?” the innkeeper asked with curiosity.

“He’s with the Huntsmen”, Enizo spoke up before Azlan could say anything.

The innkeeper went silent for a moment as Azlan gave Enizo a look.

“Really?” the innkeeper said with a bit of excitement and bewilderment in his voice. “I’ve heard about them, they hunt monstrosities and the sort. I never thought one of you lot will come to these backwoods”.

“Well, he’s here now”, Enizo said looking at his drink.

Azlan kept quiet during the exchange.

“It’s just that...”, the keeper went quiet.

“Something bothering ya?” Enizo asked.

“Nah nothing, just that I had a different image of them in my head”, the keeper scratched his head. “I mean no offense, but he’s kind of in tattered state”.

“It was a long journey, and one thing led to another, I was separated from my group”, Azlan spoke up. “I saw the Pact from Morvest on a flyer when I was in a nearby town, so I came here to make some coin”.

“O-oh, suppose that makes sense”, the keeper said with a bit of guilt in his tone. “Sorry for the weird questions”.

“Speaking of pacts, who am I supposed to talk to, if I want to accept the pact?” Azlan asked.

“Ah, that’d be the Spokesman of the town, Chazell” the keeper replied. “I tell you what, this is great news; someone finally accepted our pact. If you don’t mind, I can inform him of your arrival”.

“I don’t mind but what about this place?” Azlan asked. “You fine with leaving it untended?”

“Enizo, you mind keeping an eye on here?” the keeper asked.

“Sure, not like we’re gettin’ business here anytime soon” Enizo replied with a wave. “Ya can go on”.

“I’ll be back in few”, the keeper said as he got up and walked to the door, he took a moment to brace for the wind. He exited the door and slammed the door shut from the outside quickly, before the wind blew the door open.

There was silence for a while.

“Why did you lie?” Azlan asked. “I’m not with the huntsmen, never was”.

Enizo told his daughter to go and ‘explore’ the second story, she didn’t need much convincing as she was climbing the stairs after a few seconds. She probably wanted to check it out from the start.

“I know what ya are, Wendigo. Yer kind is not welcome here”, Enizo said with a bit of hostility showing in his tone. “I wouldn’t be tolerating ya either if it weren’t for the circumstances we met under. Ya saved my life and I’m grateful for that, but I don’t want to owe ya any more than I have to. Consider this me repaying the favor”.

“I know that Vagrants and other type of people who exterminate monstrosities are not held in a good regard. Especially the Wendigo. We are used to being ostracized, you lying makes no difference at all”, Azlan replied.

“Listen well, wendigo. Look at this place, it’s isolated from the rest of the province. Yer previous experience has no value here. People here live in harsh conditions, they are prone to paranoia and the scant news or rumor that reaches this place, becomes their sole belief. To them ya are no different than what you hunt”, Enizo said somberly.

“But they do realize that the wendigo aren’t literal monstrosities?” Azlan asked incredulously.

“Don’t matter, like I said, ya are something they don’t understand and they will hate ya for that sole reason”, Enizo explained. “Not to mention the spokesman for the town is an especially paranoid bloke. His ancestor or someone was a baron or something, so even though he has no apparent connection, he’s still different than us. He wouldn’t tolerate ya for even a second. But if ya are a huntsman, here for official business, then the story is different, he’s a bootlicker for the sovereignty ya see. Poor sod still thinks he can get back into aristocracy, maybe”.

“Ah that explains things”, he admitted. “I suppose I’ll head out to meet him, the innkeeper should be coming back soon. Anything else I need to know?” Azlan asked as he got up to leave.

“Ya better revise yer cover story, cuz ya look like shit”, Enizo made a snide comment.

Azlan paused for a moment to look at himself.

Fair enough.

-------------------------------------

Slightly tattered black cloak, light leather armor, black trousers with leather boots.

Black hair, a bit unkempt and light grey eyes.

In early to mid-twenties.

The spokesman of the town gave Azlan a judgment look as he entered the spokesman’s room. He was eager to meet the huntsman when he was informed, however, this stranger’s appearance was lacking to say the least, the only slightly striking thing was the armor he was wearing on his arms, some sort of metal gauntlets. Although they too seemed as if they were in need of severe maintenance.

“Welcome to Morvest, huntsman”, the spokesman, Chazell seemingly gave a warm greeting as he made a gesture with his arm for Azlan to take a seat. “I have heard of your circumstances somewhat, however, I would like to hear the tale of how you arrived here in such a state, if you don’t mind”.

He was obviously suspicious. Rather, it would be odd if he wasn’t.

“I don’t mind”, Azlan said as he took a seat. “I was travelling with my companions, we were on our way to Blackfall for a pact. We set camp a few miles south-west of here. Unfortunately, we were ambushed in the night by some brigands. That is how I ended up on the road, separated from my companions”.

“Oh, and then?” Chazell said, a bit intrigued.

“While wandering on the roads, I came upon Enizo, a travelling merchant from your town, he was in a bit of trouble. It was he who informed me of the situation here, and I decided to take the pact. I need the coin urgently, you see”, Azlan explained.

Most of it was true anyways. Except the huntsmen, the brigands and the fact he was already headed here. Enizo had only given him a ride, after he saved him.

“Ah, I see, I suppose that is not completely improbable”, Chazell said as he gave out a small sigh. “Excuse my earlier rudeness. Truth be told, I am relived. It is not often a pact gets accepted out here by the huntsmen. We do get the occasional vagrant, although I do not prefer to deal with them if I can help it but sometimes we have to make do”.

Azlan thought about asking him about his opinion on the wendigo in particular, but quickly dismissed that thought.

“I would like to hear details about the pact”, Azlan said.

“Yes, of course. We have had disturbances in the past few weeks just outside of town, people claim to have heard alarming noises just a few yards away from the town. And to top it off, some of our cattle has occasionally gone missing during this time”, Chazell said with a pained look.

“It could be the work of local animals”, Azlan suggested.

“That is what we considered at first as well, however that quickly changed when we found the mangled remains of the cattle. They were slaughtered mindlessly, that certainly was no work of an animal”, Chazell replied.

Azlan thought it could still be a work of an animal but he was already here and with not much coins left, he had no choice but to accept the pact.

“So, will you accept the pact?” the spokesman looked at him with uncertainty.

“No harm in checking it out”, he thought. “I’ll take it”, Azlan replied.

“Brilliant, I’ll bring out the paperwork, excuse me for a few minutes”, he said as he got up.

And in a few seconds, he was out of the room.

With nothing to do, Azlan got up and gazed around the room, it seemed to be a study of some sort. It was full of books and other material, such as maps etc.

The spokesman seemed to be an avid reader as evident by the books sprawled on his desk.

He gave the titles a glance.

“Brief History of the Continent Vol. II” by Gerund Avincii, “Insight into Sovereign Provinces Vol. IV” by Ryland Erik and “The Geography of Mountaliya” by Ferraina Rizav.

Curious, he opened a book and leafed through its pages, looking at lines occasionally. He slowed down when his eye caught a certain sentence, it read:

“Mountaliya, northen sovereign province of the continent. Once the image of prosperity, it is now nothing more than a crumbling image of its past self”

“Who would take the time to read all this?” He thought for a moment then faintly smiled. Someone he used to know came into his mind. “If it was him, I can imagine him just reading all day, without a worry in the world”.

“I didn’t take you for a reader”, the spokesman said with a surprised tone as he entered the room.

“I was just curious”, he replied while closing the book.

“Not enough to do out here I’m afraid, so I have make do with what I have”, the spokesman said while closing the door. “It is mostly just to pass the time, that’s the only role of books”.

“Acquiring knowledge is not in vain, spokesman”, Azlan said.

“Perhaps to you it may seem that way. But the sovereignty only cares about one’s accomplishments”, Chazell sighed. “Look at me, someone of noble blood rotting away in a place like this. Now, if I could hunt these monstrosities and serve the sovereignty in some way as you do, I am sure they would give me the attention that is due. But... as it stands, that is nothing more than a pipe dream”.

Azlan remained silent.

“I digress, anyways, have a look at this”, he said handing him a paper roll.

Azlan took a glance at Chazell and then proceeded to open the paper.

It was a simple pact for hunting lesser monstrosities, the reward was a bit lower than he expected for a town of this caliber.

50 silver coins.

His business with the spokesman was done for now.

“I’ll head out to gauge the area”, Azlan said, getting up.

“You are starting now? I mean, that is fine but it is currently dark outside”, the spokesman asked incredulously.

“By the time I’ve had some progress tracking them down, it’ll be dawn” Azlan replied.

“O-oh alright”, Chazell said as he motioned him to follow him to the exit.

Azlan took a brief glance at the hallway as he walked. It was moderately decorated by some paintings and antiques, not that expensive from the look of it.

“By the way, you should take someone from the town watch with you, to guide you through the area”, the spokesman suggested.

Azlan gave it a thought, normally he would prefer to travel alone, but he wanted to get this pact done and be on his way out.

“Talk to the towns guard for further information”, Chazell added. “Also, I see you’re not carrying a weapon. Towns guard will take care of that too”.

“I... have a weapon, I must’ve left it in the carriage”, Azlan replied.

“Well then, good luck and beware the mountain, huntsman”, Chazell said, opening the door for him.

Something about the way he said that struck Azlan as odd, but he gave a nod anyways and walked out.

-------------------------------------

“Hey! Come on let’s go already!” the boy said, brimming with excitement.

Annoyance.

When he had reached the small townsguard barracks near the town’s entrance and asked for a guide, they assigned him a new recruit, rather the kid volunteered. In hindsight, they were probably happy with getting rid of him for a while, by making him guide Azlan.

“Hey, where’s your weapon?” the brat asked. “It’s in the carriage right?” he continued as they walked out of town.

Azlan just ignored him and looked at the path leading to areas which might be teeming with trees.

Morvest was situated near the base of a tall mountain, with one path leading in and out of town.

This uneven path they were walking on, unfit to even be called a road, lead out of town. He likely would have no luck if he kept on this trail.

So instead, he looked up towards the mountain.

“Why are you looking that way? That’s not where the carriage is”, the boy asked. “That way just leads to the mountain”.

“We’re going that way”, Azlan said while pointing at the forest leading up to the mountain. "Here, Hold on to this", Azlan gave him his burlap sack.

“We really shouldn’t! And you don’t even have your weapon!” he protested as he took the bag.

“Keep up, I’m not waiting for you”, Azlan said with a laidback tone.

“W-wait for me!” the kid said as he hurriedly followed Azlan.

--------------------------------------------

“Why don’t you have a weapon even though you’re a huntsman?”

“Do huntsmen not carry weapons at all?”

“Why are you so quiet?”

“Hey, are you listening? Oh! Found a pine cone!”

Damn this kid was annoying.

He seemed to be the type who asks more questions the more you ignore him. Like a hydra, if you cut off its head, two more will take its place. If he ignored one question, two more would take its place. The best way to deal with this type was to answer their questions minimally or to ask questions of your own. Tattletale kids like him probably pounce on the chance to answer questions.

However, now that Azlan looked at him again, the kid was probably around sixteen or seventeen years old and had nothing to do in a town like this. He was probably bored out of his mind, living in a place like this.

This was probably the most exciting thing that had happened to him in years.

Azlan increased his pace and tried to match with the kid’s. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know his name.

“I forgot to ask your name”, he said with a lighthearted tone.

“W-why are you asking me that suddenly?” he stammered with a wary look. “You haven’t said anything until now”.

“I was thinking of completing my pact as fast as possible, but there is some time left until dawn. It wouldn’t hurt to take it slow”, Azlan told a half-truth.

“I’m Viglaf, and who are you?” the boy said, apparently still a bit wary.

“I’m Azlan”, he said as he stopped and offered the boy a hand as he was wobbling a bit. “Here, take my hand, the path is getting steeper, we must’ve come fairly far”.

“And I’m telling you, we shouldn’t go this way”, the boy said, grabbing his hand.

“Is there are a reason why you’re afraid of the mountain?” Azlan said as he pulled him up.

“You don’t know this mountain?” Viglaf asked him, surprised.

“I haven’t been to this part of Mountaliya before, I grew up in the eastern Region of the province”, Azlan said, gesturing with his hand that they should continue walking.

“First time I’ve seen someone from eastaliya, but still, you must’ve read it in a book or something?” Viglaf asked in disbelief.

“It’s just a tall mountain, what’s so special about it?” Azlan was now a bit curious.

“It is not just a tall mountain, it is the tallest mountain in the continent of Forsa. This is Everness!” the boy said triumphantly.

“That’s it? Well of course I wouldn’t have heard of it. I’m not particularly interested in geography”, Azlan half-heartedly replied.

Viglaf shot him a glance dripping with pity.

“Anyways, there is something only the locals of Morvest know about this place. The rumors among the locals are that these woods are actually an enchanted forest”, Viglaf explained.

Alarming.

Enchanted forests were home to sentient beings, creatures who didn’t prefer to come into contact with humans. The forests acted as some sort of barrier to prevent humans from entering.

“The sentient beings of this mountain are especially elusive, sometimes even decades pass between sightings”, Viglaf added. “The townsfolk have given them an appropriate name, the Ghosts of Everness”.

Ah, so that is why the spokesman had said those words.

“That is concerning, but we should be fine. These enchanted forests cannot be traversed in much depth. We won’t encounter those ghosts of yours”, Azlan assured him.

“You sure know a lot”, the boy said. “Ah I suppose that is to be expected, you are a huntsman after all”.

“It’s just common sense”, Azlan replied.

“But are you sure you don’t need a weapon? All you’re wearing is some light armor, except those rusty gauntlets”, he said, pointing at the gauntlets that covered Azlan from hands to upper arms.

“That isn’t... rust”, Azlan replied, with an uncomfortable tone.

“Who really are you, mister?” he asked with a voice teeming with curiosity.

For a moment, Azlan thought of reminding him that he wasn’t old enough to be called a “mister”, but refrained from doing so.

“Alright, this is as far as you come”, Azlan said, coming to a halt. “The trees are becoming denser as we walk, it is unsafe for you to accompany me. You should head back”.

“But I-”, his would-be protest was cut short by Azlan turning his head and giving him a glare. “Alright f-fine, I’ll go back, it’s time for my shift to be over anyways”.

“See you in town, ki- ...Viglaf”, Azlan corrected himself and headed further inside the forest.

“Later!”, the boy gave him a wave.

------------------------------------------

How exhilarating.

As if he would pass on this opportunity.

Viglaf had waited for a few minutes, and then had headed after Azlan. And now he was following his trail.

“Huntsmen aren’t all that different from us”, he said, passing through a thicket of bushes. “And he’s not even carrying a weapon. Monstrosities don’t seem that much imposing now that I’ve seen how lightly he is taking all this”.

He hoped to see how Azlan dealt with the monstrosities, and if possible help him if a chance arose.

“Hmm”, he had been wondering something for a while now.

He thought and thought, again and again. At first, he tried to vehemently deny the thought. However, eventually he had to accept the foreboding reality.

“I’m lost, aren’t I?”

He was so sure he’d been following Azlan, the tracks he had left were easy to follow.

Too easy, in fact.

As the realization dawned on him, he caught hold of a scent.

A sickly sweet scent, resembling overripe fruits and wilted flowers, his body shuddered.

He shuddered, yet he could not stop himself from moving towards the source of the scent.

Every fiber of his being screamed to stay away and run, yet he couldn’t help himself but move forward.

Allured, he brushed away the thicket of leaves away with his hands, and came upon something he could only explain as bizarre.

He could hardly be blamed, as the scene before him defied human norms.

The dead bodies of the cattle were laying in a pool of blood before him, writhing around, intertwining with each other, slowly breaking and tearing apart while collapsing into each other.

The wrenching sound of bones breaking and flesh being crushed accompanied the scene as a fitting composition.

The whole grotesque mass of death, begun to a take a form, a humanoid form.

Soon enough a humanoid figure was born, over two meters all. A clump of flesh with bone fragments showing as if they were etched in an embroidery. Broken bones, protruding out like miniature spikes. Mangled teeth and gums growing on its body. Entrails and viscera hanging over its body like vines.

It took a step but failed, and then another, a little more stable this time, like a twitching broken wound up toy.

The scent was at its peak now.

Finally, broken by the trance like state, Viglaf’s mind could not hold, he fell on his rear, his legs failing to support his body.

His blood froze as the thing stopped in its tracks as if it had noticed the sound of him falling. Then, the twisted mass took a step towards him.

A clump of deformed goat eyes appeared on its head, focusing on Viglaf.

This mass of gore which was trying to imitate a human, had finally noticed him.

It was the end for him, his legs wouldn’t move and that thing drew closer by each passing moment. Certain of his fate, he closed his eyes.

The flesh on the monstrosity’s head teared apart and it let out a bestial scream as it ran towards Viglaf.

“Don’t wail”, Viglaf heard a voice from above.

He and the monstrosity both immediately turned their heads up to see the source of the voice.

A few meters above, Azlan stood on a cliff, gazing at the monstrosity.

As they both noticed him, Azlan started to retrace his steps quickly.

“Where are yo-“, Viglaf’s words were cut short when Azlan broke into a sprint towards the edge of the cliff.

And jumped.

For Viglaf, perhaps due to the rush of adrenaline, it was as if time itself had slowed down. And he knew at moment, that he would remember this for the rest of his life.

Azlan was falling towards the monstrosity, his descent gradually gaining speed, and as soon as he was within an arm's distance of the monstrosity, he clenched his fist, and struck.

With a near ear-deafening impact, his fist went through the monstrosity, blowing most of its torso off, as if it was hit by a cannonball.

Viglaf stared with a mixture of awe and fear as Azlan landed on the ground, and went rolling and crashing into a tree.

The monstrosity’s remaining lower-half was now spurting blood, like a miniature fountain of blood and vile filth.

“Are you hurt?” Azlan asked, walking towards Viglaf, with a small blood splatter on his face.

His gauntlets, dripping with blood, did not seem like they were for protection. Indeed, they seemed more akin to a morbid weapon of slaughter.

“Who are you?” Viglaf asked, fear stricken.

“That is the third time you’ve asked me that question tonight”, Azlan said while trying to wipe his face with his shoulder, which only ended up smearing the blood instead. “It doesn’t matter either ways now”.

Azlan looked at Viglaf.

“I am Beowulf, and I’ve come to hunt your monsters”.

---------------------------------