《The Last Duke's Memoirs》Chapter 18: Worries [2]
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Chapter 18: Worries [2]
Old Bose, Lother’s village chief, was a former assistant of a rich merchant in Gisvold. His talent even boosted him into the inner circles of the rich merchant. Thus, he was privy to various trade secrets and sensitive information, such as any ambushes against the merchant’s caravans. May it be bandits or monster attacks.
There was one time during his stint that he had heard the beast called ‘Death wolves’. The memory of his always calm boss shouting as he cursed his luck was still as clear as the blue skies.
Because of his once ever so youthful curiosity, he asked his superiors the reason the lord merchant was so furious. He heard that one of the merchant’s caravans was missing and the said caravan was carrying costly goods.
Days, weeks, and months passed, but the caravan remained missing.
One day, a local village hunter roaming around the trade route discovered something odd during his hunt. The local hunter caught a whiff of a revolting smell coming from the depths of the forest.
In curiosity, the hunter ventured deeper into the woods. The deeper he went, the worst the scent became. The forest depths had the scent of death. Soon enough, the hunter discovered the source. Broken carriages, rotting flesh, and bones painted the grassy area in crimson. Acid flies buzzed akin to busy bees. The swarm skittered around the caravan, enjoying the free feast.
Splattered on the rust-colored ground were various expensive products and spices. The acid flies didn’t spare the goods, poking holes in the barrels with their acidic needle-like suckers. The hunter tried to look for survivors. He roamed and searched for signs of life. Unfortunately, there were none aside from the whirring flies.
Though one acid fly wasn’t of much concern, a terrifying swarm of acid flies was a different matter. The mere sight had the seasoned hunter retreating. He stepped away from the scene with caution and reported the things he saw to the patrolling soldiers. The terrible news soon spread by mouth until it reached the kingdom authorities, triggering a more in-depth investigation.
The local guards concluded the goods were from the rich merchant’s missing caravan. The merchant’s insignia found in one of the depilated barrels was a giveaway. The perpetrators remained at large.
The gruesome news pushed the thrifty merchant to splurge his money. All to seek the bastards who dared to ambush his caravan with cold blood. The merchant even filled all the guild houses with his request. He promised favors and gold to anyone who could give him information about the culprits. He wanted to erase the darn bandits who dared to attack his people.
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Of course, no one dared to double-cross the influential merchant. The rich merchant wasn’t a simple trader. He had a group of powerful nobles supporting him in the shadows.
Hooked by the merchant’s promises of favor and gold, groups of mercenaries and adventurers mobilized, leaving no stone untouched as they hunted the perpetrators throughout the kingdom.
The series of events led to the downfall of local brigands roaming the area. The bandit groups fell one by one without knowing what caused their death.
The search only ended when a monster scholar from the Citadel of Van arrived. The scholar from Van passed through the town in search of trade deals to support the dwindling supplies in the north, especially in the citadel.
The Citadel of Van was a well-known stronghold near the infamous ‘Tundra of the Ice Raven’. The citadel served as the guardian of the kingdom’s northern territories. It was a shield from the dangerous beast.
The mysterious tundra was home to various monster species, including the Death wolves. A strange frozen land that teemed with life despite the harsh freezing weather. It was one of the forbidden areas on the Eudorian continent. The forbidden area was also a common destination of high-level subjugation armies.
The scholar heard the gossips about the missing merchant’s caravan. In curiosity, he gathered details and information from the town pubs. He slowly completed the puzzle piece by piece.
The descriptions were like the bloody raids of death wolves in the northern territory. There was an uncanny similarity. These wolves were after scarce resources. Or a new malevolent pack leader had been born.
The terrible winter in the north strengthened his belief that the Death wolves had migrated to the central plains.
The Death wolves were in search of greener pastures.
With the information in hand, he went to the merchant. His goal was simple. Gain new connections for the north and seal a few trade deals with the merchant. All in exchange for the information he would provide.
At first, the rich merchant was skeptical about the scholar’s visit. He was a man of trade. He knew the current conditions of the north. This scholar might only want to strike a deal for the Citadel of Van, using the caravan attack as an excuse to meet him.
Despite his doubts, the merchant still met the scholar. After all, he had nothing to lose. If this scholar dared to spout nonsense, he would kick him out.
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After hearing the explanation of the monster scholar, the merchant froze on the spot. Who could have thought such beasts would dare to travel to the central plains? No one.
He knew that there was a famine in the north, but that was the first time he heard of Tundra beasts migrating in search of food.
The merchant felt a big headache. His face twisted and his liver hurt. He spent his money in vain. It seemed like he was looking for the wrong species.
***
The night sky lacked its usual starry and moonlit luster. The smoke-colored clouds veiled the stars and moons high above. An omen from the heavens. It was warning the people of the coming disaster.
Knight Levo looked at the old village chief and felt tired. He rubbed his temples and said. “Abandon the village, ask the villagers to set their destination to Gartner Town.”
The village chief swallowed his spit. He knew the dangers of staying in the village. He had heard of Death wolves. Those beasts of death. He didn’t wish to see any villagers being torn by those cursed monsters. He had to evacuate the entire villagers immediately to avoid being a liability on the battlefield.
“My Liege! This old man will follow.”
“Then go now, fast! I will send a part of my man to escort you.”
Scurrying in haste, the village chief ran back to the village to inform everyone. His old face tinged with anxiety. He acknowledged how lucky they were that the knight and his soldiers were here.
If not... he couldn’t even imagine what would happen to them.
The knight then cast a caring gaze at his wife.
“Annis, can you please get the kids to safety first? Ask old Sept to babysit them for a while.”
Madam Annis smiled and nodded.
“I will.”
...
The night fell deeper. The three moons struggled to break free from dark clouds. It was a fight between darkness and light.
Deeper in the forest of wilderness. The swishing wind breeze flew as freely as before.
Yet, you could not even hear the croaking of frogs or toads, nor could you hear any sounds of buzzing insects. Drifting between the intertwining trees was a horrendous stench. The trees had themselves painted with streaks of various beast blood and remains.
Among the web of maze-like trees, pitch-black beasts lied in slumber. Their furs were blacker than the darkness of the night. Their claws covered in dried blood and meat.
There was a mysterious dark aura revolving around their bodies. The air around these monsters was nothing but stale and eerie. The scent of death wafted in the air.
With no warning...
A set of cold emerald-colored eyes snapped open. It shifted its gaze towards the direction of the village of Lother. The wolf’s ears above its head perked up. Something had caught its attention.
Unlike the other unmoving Death wolves in the surrounding, this Death wolf had a massive frame. It was far bigger than the Devil Tusk boar Davin had killed. A muffled growl flowed out from its jaws as it peeked at the three moons in resentment.
Suddenly, a malevolent presence suddenly loomed in the entire forest. It snarled in irritation and let out a powerful howl, displaying its apparent dislike at that three dangling moons above the sky.
Hearing the hair-raising howls, the resting death wolves whined, the dark-furred beasts lying around the blood-scented grass slowly stood up one by one. The wolves opened their once drowsy eyes wide open. They lowered their heads in subservience towards the massive Death wolf.
In silence, the army of death turned their icy green eyes towards a single direction... the village of Lother.
A deathly aura shrouded the emerald-eyed wolf. Streaks of mysterious dark flames slowly rose from its body. The Death wolves looked at the massive Death wolf with excitement. With their eyes turning blood red, they let out a long bloodthirsty howl.
It was time. The alpha wolf’s banquet was about to start.
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For those who do not understand the reference, "wish fulfillment" is before anything a term created by Sigmund Freud in the 1900's. In psychology it is a state of satisfying unconscious needs and desires by the use of fantasy and delusion. In literature it is the very base of fictional work, but also the name of a style of writing where the author sacrifices the key elements of good storytelling in order to fulfill his own psychopathic, neurotic or perverse needs and desires, usually through the use of the characters in weird and forced situations. What I meant by the title of this story is that it is a trashy, badly written, shitty story about me getting some wish fulfillment by the use of some characters and a fictional world of my creation. Not the good kind of fulfillment, since my wishes are of the bad kind and I intend to fulfill those, not yours. Also, being a total amateur and not writing a proper plot before starting are two big indicators that this story is going to go bad. I guess Royal Road call this kind of stories the "Mary Sue" kind. So, unless you are a very ugly piece of trash (at least as much as I am) don’t bother reading it. Now, if you ARE messed up on the level of a clinically depressive, lightly suicidal, lolicon/shotacon aligned morbidly obese hikikomori vermin who sold his virginity to a prostitute and is currently living at the costs of his widowed mother after expending all the money he got from his father’s inheritance, all the while masturbating furiously to beast/furry dickgirl hentai, then be welcomed. Please feel free to get a serving at my antidepressants and also at the canned tuna I have stored in the fridge. There may be some cheese somewhere, and I am pretty sure I bought some juice the other day, but I have no idea where it is. Anyway. You may dislike what I write because of all the amauteur(ish) writing, or you may not. Who knows. Give it a try and write a comment. It gets lonely writing to no one. Also, feel free to grant me inspiration not only by making comments about the world and/or characters, but specially by suggesting a music for me to listen while I write the next chapter. Be warned : I do get influenced easily by the background music I listen while writing. If you exist, of course. I'm seriously doubting anyone has read anything after the "lolicon hikikomori" thing. Also, I have a tiny dick.Just so you can feel better about yourself a little more. Or maybe I have just degraded psychologically a little more and now I am into shame-play. I wonder if the psychiatrist would increase my meds a bit if I told her about it.Hope I never get to penispanick, though! Self-mutilation, especially of the castration type, would be baaaad. After all, I do like my prostitutes. And having sex with them when I can afford it. Oh, yeah, the story. I will just write the first chapter in a few moments.Until later, b(i)each.
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