The tall slave stood outside, staring into the night sky for longer than he, or indeed the person who had been spying on him could tell. During the time he had been standing out there, a number of the more insatiable guards had engaged second and even third bouts of sex, yet nobody had even attempted to try their luck with him, despite his being out in the open. They were around eight hours into the First Cycle of Night, and with the extended winter nights, they still had a long time to go. After a few minutes more of staring at the sky, the slave suddenly looked down and then in the direction of the Demon Tooth carriage. He began staring at it intensely, his eyes fixated on one spot in particular. After a few minutes of staring, he mouthed something at whoever he was looking at, and despite it being in a language nobody understood, he repeated it.

“I see you.” He mouthed.

A good ten minutes after he had said it again, the sound of the carriage door opening, then footsteps approaching him became audible, and soon enough, Ingolf appeared. He walked right up to the slave, and eventually stood next to him. The closer Ingolf got, the more his skin crawled as he looked at this supposed ‘captive’, who even intimidated his captors. Ingolf stopped when he was a few feet away from the slave, and just eyed him. He felt as though he was looking at and standing next to a beast of some sort. A creature of immense power that appeared as if it was just biding its time, or going with the flow to see how things would turn out. Every time he had seen this slave when they camped, he got this same feeling, which was usually more than enough for him to keep his distance. The difference this time, was that he had heard this man speak for the first time in the entire time they had been traveling towards Kortrijk’s Rings; the only city in the whole of Vraeta with a sanctioned Slave Market. He stood perfectly still, eyeing this man, who by now had gone back to his star gazing. A minute or two later, Ingolf broke the silence.

“So what was wrong with that Saint Elk’s meat, slave?” He asked.

“…”

“Do you understand even a bit of what I’m saying?”

“…”

“Fuck.”

“…”

“Can you at least understand if I speak some of the Common language of the Central Continent?” Ingolf said, switching strategies.

The slave looked down from the stars and over at Ingolf. He still didn’t understand, but figured this sickly looking man wouldn’t stop speaking unless he said anything.

“I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, Pale One.” He said, finally responding to Ingolf.

“What does that mean? Did you finally understand me?”

“I still can’t understand you, Pale One.”

“My name is Ingolf.” Ingolf stated, just going on the assumption that he could understand. “In-gol-f.” He repeated, sounding out his name while pointing at himself.

“Ingolf?” The slave repeated.

“Yes, Ingolf!” Ingolf said excitedly, as he made some kind of major breakthrough. “What’s your name?”

“…”

“Ingolf…” He said as he pointed at himself with both hands, before pointing at the slave. “…you?”

The slave looked at Ingolf, having realized very quickly that he was being asked his name. He tilted his head to the side, playing the fool. Ingolf then pointed to himself once again, and the slave spoke.

“Ingolf.”

“Yes!” Ingolf said, before quickly pointing to the slave.

“..”

They slave continued to act like he didn’t get it whenever he was pointed at, and after a few more rounds of this game, Ingolf gave up completely, looking frustrated. The slave stifled a smirk, before looking behind Ingolf and gesturing with his head.

“I see you all finished the meat.”

Ingolf looked behind himself at the fire where the meat was being cooked, and then back at the slave. He remained silent as he remembered hearing the word the slave had used for meat during his earlier warning. His brow, which was furrowed, suddenly rose as he in realisation.

“In… Inyama?”

The slave looked at Ingolf in silence, before nodding slowly.

“Yes, the meat. You ate it all.”

“What about the… uh, inyama?” Ingolf asked.

“Yes, meat.”

“Inyama.”

It was now the slave’s turn to be frustrated. He scowled at Ingolf, before shrugging lightly, turning around and walking off towards the slave tent.

“Wait? What about the meat? What was wrong with it? Inyama? Inyama!!!”

The slave didn’t even break stride as he disappeared into the tent. Ingolf stood with his fists clenched in exasperation due to the failed attempt at communication with that slave, whose name he didn’t know. A few moments later, Saheed emerged from within his carriage, laughing as he approached Ingolf.

“By Izdur’s Glory, that was hilarious. What were you doing, trying to talk to that slave?”

“Hmph… at least I’m not so scared of a slave whose hands are bound, that I let him wander around and act as though he isn’t a slave.” Ingolf responded as he looked at Saheed, who passed him an elaborately designed and decorated golden goblet, filled with some kind of liquor. “You’re feeling awfully generous tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yes, well what can I say?” Saheed said as he shrugged.

He appeared to have just concluded his business inside, and was stepping outside for some fresh air. He took a sip from his own goblet, before looking up at the sky himself.

“That slave, Ragnar… I don’t know who he is, or how he even entered the caravan. He just appeared after we set off from the Jewel of the South, absolutely soaked in blood that was quickly established to not be his own, with his hands already bound. He neither made a sound, nor said a word when we discovered him, and he didn’t flinch when we had to… discipline some of the rabble as a show of force. Tonight was the first time I had ever heard his voice, let alone heard him speak. The slaves all sensed he was different, and naturally tried getting close to him, thinking he would protect them, or help them escape, but he didn’t. He doesn’t lift a finger when something happens to them, so we leave him be. He doesn’t interfere with us, so we do the same.”

“I see… it certainly does feel like he’s biding his time, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly right, my emaciated friend. To be perfectly honest with you, I hope he gets off at the Rings. This slave… he makes me feel uneasy.”

Ingolf and Saheed both stood silently, as if they were thinking about the same thing. Ingolf quickly downed whatever it was that was in the goblet, before erupting into an uncontrolled coughing fit, while Saheed calmly sipped on his drink. Once Ingolf had recovered enough composure that he was at least able to stand upright, he handed the goblet back to Saheed.

“Appreciate the drink, Fatty. Aren’t your men supposed to be on guard duty right now?”

“Yes, well they’re still finishing up inside. They will be ready soon, Ragnar.”

“I’d suggest they hurry up. Anyway, I’m going to turn in and try to get some more sleep. Maintaining the wall is taxing enough when I’m fully rested, so it’s a whole lot worse when sleep deprived.”

Ingolf handed Saheed his goblet with a nod, before making his way towards and then inside the carriage. A few hours later in the slave tent, the tall slave sat with his legs crossed, and hands in his lap. His head had flopped down slightly, and he was breathing rhythmically. He suddenly perked up as he snapped out of his state of unconsciousness, and his head shot up. His eyes scanned the tent and he saw the frame of an old, somewhat frail looking woman. She was also a slave, and despite her old and rickety appearance, was actually still rather capable. She was part of the slaves that cooked, and was able to do so without complaining about any aches and pains. She slowly shuffled her way towards her designated spot that was to the tall slave’s left. He followed her slow movements with head, right up until she sat down in her slow, staggered manner. Despite her face being old and weathered, there were signs of her having been immensely beautiful at some stage. Her hair was grey and extremely long. It had been braided, and the braid well all the way down her perpetually arched back. She offered the slave a sweet and friendly smile, which he snorted at. He looked her in her eyes, and spoke.

“I see you, Old Woman.”

The old woman looked as though she had no clue what he had just said, and just nodded at him, before laying down and proceeding to go to sleep. The slave did the same himself, however before he could completely succumb to the pull of sleep, he was suddenly roused by the banging of shields, coupled with the screaming and shouting of voices.

“ALARM!!”

“GET UP! GET YOUR ASSES UP; WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!!!”

The frantic screams that accompanied the shield banging roused Ingolf and the rest of the top dogs of the Demon Tooth, and caused them to come bursting out from the carriage. For the most part, they had their armour on, and they quickly got together with a few Mercenaries, wanting to be filled in quickly. Slaves in various stages of undress were running past them, and gunning it towards the slave tent.

“What in the name of Aesgir is going on!?” Boomed Thorvald.

“Snow Barghests, Sir! The camp has been surrounded by Snow Barghests, and they trying to scale the wall!”

Ingolf didn’t stand on ceremony, as he pulled his staff off of his back, while muttering something. As he recited the Language of Magic, his staff glowed, before he pointed the head at his feet. Ice shot out from the head and created something of a platform beneath his feet, with suddenly grew and shot straight up, creating an ice pillar of sorts. It went up into the night sky, and stopped quite a few feet above the wall, allowing Ingolf to see just how many Snow Barghests were present. He looked around, trying to see as much as he could as quickly as he could. After close to a minute, the ice pillar quickly began retracting, until Ingolf was back on the ground. He was breathing somewhat heavily, but recovered quickly and spoke.

“There are at least a hundred Barghests in total that are scaling the walls. They are low fairly low level Magical Beasts, so I don’t think we’ll have many issues dealing with them.”

“Agreed.” Thorvald said with a nod. “Despite being drunk and well… spent, I think we will be able to handle this. Including us, there are fifty Demon Tooth Mercenaries, and if we count The Izdurian Slavers, we have a force of around eighty or so.”

“Would likely be more if the slaves weren’t in such poor shape.” Ingolf added as he recovered a little more.

“Are you okay to fight, Boss?” Brynhild asked as she fondled her swords.

“Honestly? If I don’t use magic, I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you just dispel the Ice Wall, Ingolf?” Thorvald asked.

“What if a storm kicks up in the middle of the fight? These Beasts will be fine, while we are torn to fucking shreds by the wind. If they want to come in, let them. I have a surprise for them.”

The sound of multiple howls and snarls cut the impromptu council short, as the first of the Barghest hopped over the wall and landed in the camp. The Beasts were large, easily standing taller than a horse, and dwarfing a brown bear in mass. They had massive backs, with long, thick forelegs and neck. Their heads were large, with equally large mouths filled with a multitude of sharp, brown teeth. Their eyes glowed bright red and their noses sniffed at the air. Their heavily muscled forelegs would occasionally twitch, and when the Beasts would inhale, foul smelling puffs of steam would fill the air in front of them.

The Slavers had quickly gotten together and had a meeting of their own, before Fekir came running to the Mercenaries.

“Demon Tooth Leader, I come to pass on a message from Saheed. We of Izdur will take care of the dogs from where we are standing, to the Western wall. Ragnar, if you and your Mercenaries could take care of the other half, then that would be great. Also, you have greater numbers than we do, so we request some reinforcements.”

Ingolf looked at Fekir and nodded, before turning to Thorvald and nodding at him, who immediately understood, and banged his chest in acknowledgement before looking at Fekir.

“Let’s hurry; it sounds like the fight has already started!”

The two ran off to where the Slavers had already engaged with the Barghest. Prayers had already been offered up to Izdur, as scimitars, spears, and hands were ablaze, enchanted with the Death God’s flames. Saheed was sitting with his legs crossed, and both hands pushed out in front of him. His eyes were closed, and his entire body was ablaze, pulsing with flames that seemed as if they were trying to reach the heavens. He was in a trance of sorts as he vigourously recited a long prayer from memory. The more he prayed, the larger the flames became. As the flames around his body grew, so did those of the enchantment on the weapons of his men. The Barghest started charging the Slavers, had already offered up their appreciation and praises to Izdur before charging the Beasts. Thorvald pulled his axe from his back. He held it before him, and stared at the head.

“Our enemies stand before us. Awaken, IceBane.”

The dual-blade axe head suddenly glowed blue, and icy cold mist began to emanate from the entire axe. The ground within a two meter radius around Thorvald suddenly cracked and sunk as he exerted an impressive amount of pressure. He then charged a group Barghest that was locked in an engagement with some Slavers. The echo of his footsteps thundered throughout the entire camp and with a roar of exertion, he raised IceBane above his head, before stepping in hard with his left leg, planting his foot down and swinging the axe in a circular motion. He swung once, twice, three times, the bladed head gaining momentum with each revolution, and slicing through thick fur and hard skin each time, before it was raised above Thorvald’s head once more, and then brought down with almost unnecessary force in a downward swing. IceBane thundered into the ground with an inhuman amount of force, splitting the ground beneath and producing an icy blue nova that hit more than a few of the Barghests, launching them off all of their feet, and sending them crashing into ground behind them. Thorvald then stood up straight, before resting IceBane on his right shoulder.

“FEAR NOT, MEN!!” Thorvald boomed. “DON’T BE INTIMIDATED BY HOW THEY LOOK, THESE DOGS ARE NOT INVICIBLE, AND THEY CAN BE KILLED.” Thorvald then threw his head back and let out an unbelievable roar.

Despite him having said this to the Slavers, it still had the desired effect as almost all of them roared themselves, feeling their morale increasing, which in turn gave them extra impetus to win. Just as they finished roaring, Saheed’s flames suddenly flared, as he began to rise, floating up until he was at least six feet in the air. He finally completed reciting his prayer, and opened his eyes, which were glowing and had flames pulsing out from them as well. He suddenly pressed his hands together at chest level.

“Shield of Izdur.”

Immediately after invoking the shield, multiple flame vines shot forth from Saheed, and hit each Slaver, before forming a large disc that floated in front of each one. They immediately helped as a few Slavers were saved from a few strokes that were intended to disembowel them. Those Barghests were immediately skewered by a few spear wielders, before a few unarmed Flame Masters released continuous flame blasts from their hands, burning the roaring Beasts to a crisp.

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the camp, Ingolf, Ola, Henrik and Brynhild were surprisingly afforded enough time to have watched the opening round.

“So that Saheed guy isn’t just fat…”

“Yeah, he’s a pretty high level Priest.” Ingolf said with a shrug. “Anyway, get ready. Ola, you and the Hunters get on top of the carriages and provide support.”

Ola nodded and saluted, before turning around and running off. He let out a whistle which served as a call to arms for the soldiers, and they all appeared almost as if out of nowhere, before leaping up onto the carriages. Brynhild, who was dressed in her armour, drew her long sword and her shield, before banging the sword against the shield and assuming a low, defensive stance with her shield pushed out, sword pointed slightly behind it. The banging of the shield drew the other defensive fighters, and they stood beside and behind her, assuming a similar stance. Henrik was standing, long sword in one hand, and short sword in the other. He was a lot looser and a lot more limber in his stance and fighting style. He looked at Ingolf, and grinned.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen active combat, isn’t it Boss?”

“Yeah, that’s right Henrik. Can’t say that I’ve miss—wait a minute!” Ingolf said as he looked at Henrik.

There was a distinctive tent in Henrik’s pants, not to mention that he was actually standing barefoot. He didn’t even have any socks on.

“What the fuck?!” Ingolf asked in shock.

“Hmm? What is it?” Henrik asked as he yawned slightly, the weight of the moment seemingly haven gone straight over his head.

“That!” Ingolf said as he pointed. “How can you have a fucking erection right now?!”

“Oh, this? I was actually right in the middle of… something when the alarm was sounded; or rather, when somebody started screaming the word alarm.”

“Alright, but why the fuck are you still… you know!”

“Because I didn’t finish, Boss. Those fucking dogs chose the worst time to attack. They’re gonna pay dearly for that…”

Henrik had finally become serious, and assumed his fighting stance, eyes full of wrath. His fighters seemed to sense that he was ready, as they appeared from the shadows and joined him. Ingolf stood with his shoulders slumped just a bit, completely dumbfounded with Henrik.

‘This idiot… a wasted erection is what awakens his blood lust.’ Ingolf thought to himself, before taking a deep breath.

He placed his hand on the head of his staff, which once again glowed. The moment he moved his hand away from the bulbous head, it morphed from said bulbous head, to a rather long, curved blade. He then proceeded to spread his legs, his feet shoulder width apart, and bent his knees, crouching down as he spun his staff, ending with a flourish. He looked behind him to see the wielders of the heavy, two handed weapons running up to join Thorvald and the Izdur Slavers. He then looked around himself and sighed.

“…we need to recruit more Mages.” He said to himself, more than anybody else.

The convenient amount of time it took for the Barghest to climb up and over the wall elapsed, and before anybody could even blink, the large, white Magical Beasts started hopping into the camp in droves. Everybody heard Thorvald let out another roar and Beasts attacked.

Brynhild’s group was in thick of things right out of the gate, as they banged their shields; immediately getting the attention of the Barghests. Brynhild didn’t have a legendary weapon or shield like Thorvald, but it appeared as though she didn’t really need one to fight the Beasts, as she raised her shield to parry a blow from a Barghest, before forcing her shield into its face – completing a Shield Bash – before driving her sword right into the Beast’s chest; piercing it’s heart, before tossing it to ground. Immediately after that, she ducked below a blow from another Barghest, and as she stood up, she exposed the bottom of her fist, and flashed it into the Barghest’s forehead, hitting it with the pommel and dazing it for a second, and then slicing through its neck. The Beast fell to the ground as it made gargling noises. Another one attacked her and Brynhild was hit with a multi-strike attack. She recovered quickly however replied with a multi-strike attack of her own which wasn’t quite as effective as she would have liked, but still hit the mark and did some damage. Another of the Sword and Shield warriors attacked, and finished it off. Brynhild nodded in appreciation, before letting out a roar of her own and banging her shield. She then launched herself at a Barghest that engaged in a fight with a different warrior.

Ola and his Hunters were perched on the carriages, facing different directions. Wherever cover was needed, they would spray arrows with fearsome speed and accuracy. They would also aim their arrows in such a way that they would complement whatever attack was already in play, whether shooting a Barghest in the hind leg to force it to fall in order to be decapitated easier, or in the lower back, forcing it upright to allow for disembowelment. They were also firing arrows at the Barghests that were climbing over areas that had nobody stationed in them yet. Ola was firing multiple arrows at once, taking out two or three Beasts at a time; either killing them or incapacitating them for easier killing. His hands were a virtual blur as his arrows disappeared from his quiver faster than one could count.

The warriors who had joined up with Thorvald and the Slavers were massive power hitters, much like Thorvald himself. Whereas the other warriors would stand close to each other, the men and women in Thorvald’s group required ample space to be able to swing their weapons without fear of friendly fire. Their weapons were slow and ponderous as they required massive amounts of strength to wield, yet their destructive power was amazing. Thorvald was causing the most damage as he was swinging and hitting with IceBane regularly. He raised his foot and brought it down hard, stomping the ground and causing a mini earth quake in the area around him. The quake caused the Beasts to become stunned for just second or two, which was all Thorvald needed as he planted his foot, twisted his hips and swung IceBane across in a circular motion cleaving four Barghests clean in half. The sound of Barghests howling and barking in pain was heard as the Slavers, supported by Saheed, continued to burn the Beasts. He continued to replenish their shields and enchant their weapons. A few of the Beasts had tried to attack him directly, but Ola had been alert to the threat very quickly, and took them out before they could.

Despite the odd reason behind it, Henrik was motivated and focused on felling the Barghest. He charged a few with his weapons pushed behind him as he ran, his arms loose resulting in his swords flopping around a bit, and his stance and center of gravity low, similar to the Beasts themselves. He suddenly launched into an attack, with his swings and lunges seeming to come from his shoulders as he twisted his torso. His arms would go from being loose, to being sharp and precise without any warning, resulting in looping sword strikes that almost seemed like whips, to hard fast, lunges and slashes, all the while twisting and jerking his torso to avoid and evade strikes from the Barghest. They just couldn’t handle his speed and unpredictability, which resulted in them getting stabbed and caught from the most random angles. Those who followed him were all about speed, as they would roll and evade strikes, attack from behind, and were generally elusive and annoying to fight.

Meanwhile Ingolf, who was not using his Magic due to having to sustain the camp wall, was busy displaying his own martial prowess; his staff a blur as he would use the bottom of the staff to hit the Beasts on their foreheads to stun them, then slit their throats. He would vary his attacks, ducking low and sweeping the Barghest’s legs out from beneath them if they tried to attack him while on all fours, before plunging the bladed head deep into their hearts. The problem was that even though he was fully capable as a melee fighter, he was still fighting by himself. Coupled with the fact that he was also concentrating on maintaining his sustained spell, and running on low, and not having all that much energy due to not getting enough rest, or eating meat from the Winged Elk, Ingolf was taking longer and longer to dispatch the Beasts that were attacking him. He was in the middle of fending off two Barghests that were attacking him from the front. He ducked below a paw that was thrown at him with bad intentions, before he lunged at the chest of a Barghest from below. The Beast managed to evade, while the second one launched itself at Ingolf face first, trying to bite him to death. He quickly grabbed the lower part of the staff and thrust, swinging it towards said face and hitting the Beast on the chin. He quickly released the staff, clenched his fist, and unleashed two short uppercuts that connected clean on the Beast’s jaw once again, sending it back and giving him room to maneuver. He did just that, sliding into the space that had just been vacated, and stood up to his full height, swinging the staff’s blade at the first Barghest’s head. The Barghest dashed forward and evaded, and as Ingolf was adjusting his body to strike again, a third Barghest entered the fray, raised its massive foreleg and swung down hard; its claws digging into and slicing Ingolf’s back. He let out a cry of pain, before instinctively ducking, which turned out to be a good move, because not only did another of the Barghests try to take his head off, Ola fired off an arrow that struck the head of the Barghest that had initially hit Ingolf. The arrow itself glowed for a second, and Ingolf, instantly recognising what that meant, dived to his left and avoided being affected as the arrow exploded, destroying the Barghest’s entire upper body. Ingolf wasn’t safe however; as the two remaining Beasts were poised to attack until the sound of a shield being banged caught their attention. They looked over to see Brynhild having assumed a threatening stance. She banged her shield again, but the Beasts quickly lost interest in her, much to her chagrin.

“What?!” She exclaimed, before she started banging her shield even harder. “H-Hey, over here, you… fucking… dogs!”

Ingolf looked at both the Barghests, and Brynhild, before cringing and covering his eyes; knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Get over here, you… smelly mutts! You, you smell… really bad! Your breaths smell like… over-aged cheese! Come face me, you… b-ball juggling, cock brains!”

With each attempted insult Brynhild launched at the Beasts, Ingolf would cringe harder.

“Holy Mother of Aesgir! How can Brynhild’s Taunt ability still be this BAD?! There’s no way in all the Hells that these dogs are stupid enough to –”

Before Ingolf could even finish his train of thought, both Barghest turned away from him and started barking frantically. Their rage filled barks were accompanied by what Ingolf could only assume were attempts at vulgar paw gestures. The dogs then charged Brynhild; much to Ingolf’s complete and utter shock.

“I… I stand corrected.” He said to himself as he watched Brynhild and her warriors to work on the Barghests.

Ingolf was breathing out of his mouth as he started looking around the camp to see how everything was going. He was rummaging inside his pack which was hanging on his waist, as he noticed more and more Beasts climbing over sections of the wall that were unguarded. He pulled out a small, bottle and opened it, before downing the glowing red liquid that was inside it. He made a face after drinking the potion, but despite the taste, it got to work immediately, as the wounds on his back glowed red, before closing. It was just a minor potion however, so all it was good for was staunching bleeding and closing wounds, not actually healing anything internally. He quickly put the bottle away, and soon, he was no longer breathing as heavily as before. He quickly looked the camp over once more before suddenly speaking; using the ability he had used earlier to communicate with Thorvald despite how noisy it was.

“Brynhild, you and your warriors head up to the Northern point of the camp and take care of the Barghest up there. Go quickly.”

“Alright, Boss. I’ll leave a few men here with you—”

“No. Take them all.”

“But—”

“I believe I gave you an order, Brynhild. Now go!”

Brynhild didn’t speak; she just banged her chest to salute Ingolf, and relayed the orders to her warriors. They then saluted and they all made their way to the North.

“Henrik, you and yours—”

“We’re to head south, right Boss?” Henrik said as he interrupted Ingolf.

“That’s right. Hurry.”

“Sure thing, Boss. Oh, and I actually won’t be offering to leave any of my people behind. “

“No, don’t worry about me! Just take your guys, and… wait what?”

Henrik wasn’t even listening anymore as he was telling his followers what was happening. He then started running towards the south on his own, arms and swords flopping about like wet noodles. Ingolf just shook his head and sighed, before speaking once more.

“Ola, I’m going to need your help in keeping this side clean.”

“Understood. How?”

“Have your Hunter’s focus their attention on helping Brynhild, Henrik and Thorvald, while you focus all your attention helping me stay alive. That’s likely going to be a pretty tough task, because I’m probably close to my limit as is, which is pretty pathetic.”

“It is.” Ola said. “Don’t worry though, Boss. Nothing is gonna happen to you on my watch. Or at the very least, if something does happen, it’ll be because of me.”

“Ugh…” Ingolf responded as he stood up to his full height, and thudded the bottom of his staff onto the ground.

Just then, more Barghest flew over the top of the ice wall, landing on the ground and going on the attack. The next hour was spent warding off the Barghests, with each group of Demon Tooth Mercenaries coupled with the Slavers fought on, the waves of Beasts suggesting that there actually more than the hundred that Ingolf had initially suggested were actually there. Skills and abilities were being used with regularity and due to the duration of the skirmish, the odd Barghest was able to escape from the group it was fighting and make a beeline for some other part of the camp, only for it to get shot full of arrows. However, three Barghests were actually able to break through, and ran towards the West, likely targeting Saheed because his buffs were top quality. As they were running through the camp, they suddenly noticed the slave tent for the first time, and all three quickly ducked inside. There were moments of screaming, coupled with moments of growling and barking, but they were quickly replaced with moments of sudden yelping, and whining. A bright flash of golden light emanated from the tent’s entrance, before the three Beasts back tracked out from the tent. Their ears were down, tails tucked between their legs, and they were hunched low to the ground as they retreated. They were all growling as they back-pedaled, and kept their eyes locked on whatever it was that was intimidating them so much. Soon enough, what – or this case, who – was responsible for this appeared, as the tall slave emerged from the tent. He was staring directly at the growling Beasts with an intense, wrath filled gaze. He was bearing his teeth, just like the Barghests, and his fists were clenched, as he pushed his chest and his shoulders out, adopting a domineering stance. He let out a growl of his own, which made two of the Beasts flinch, however one of them suddenly leapt at the slave, lunching at him with its mouth, looking to rip his throat out. The slave quickly reached forward and grabbed the Barghest by its jaw and muzzle, before turning his hips, and using that momentum to slam the Beast back first into the ground, couching down as he did. He then stood up and repeated the slam, only this time to his right, before doing it again; slamming the Barghest onto the cracking ground five times, before laying it in front of him on its stomach. He then placed his right foot on the Beast’s shoulder, while keeping his left firmly planted on the ground, and began to pull. The Barghest began whining, however that didn’t last for too long as the slave ripped the Beast’s head clean off, and managed to pull out its spine as well, which was still connected to the head, and dangled from the head as blood dripped off of it and onto the headless body below. The other Barghests had already been taken care of by Ola’s Hunters, and after a few seconds, the slave dropped the head and spine onto the floor, before failing at an attempt to stifle a yawn.

Despite everybody having Barghests of their own to take care of, they all managed to see the tall slave rip a Barghest’s head off, with his bare and bound hands. There was no time for awe however, as they had to finish off their respective opponents. A few minutes later, everybody noticed that they had managed to take care of all the Barghests, and that there weren’t any more trying to climb over the walls. Once they made this realisation, a few people began to roar in celebration and others banged their shields or their chests. The leaders however still looked concerned, and it only took a few moments for the reason to be revealed, as all of a sudden, there was a large bang on the North-Eastern part of the wall. There was then a second, and a third bang, with each bang more forceful than the one that preceded it, until eventually, a massive creature broke through the wall, creating a massive hole as it walked in.

A Boss Level Barghest made its way into the camp. It stood upright on its hind legs at least eleven feet tall, had slightly humanoid facial features, but also had thick and elaborate horns jutting out from its forehead. More than having four legs, it had two arms and two legs, with its arms long and muscular; its hands massive, with deadly claws for nails. Its coat was a mixture of white and blue, and each step it took shook the ground. It kept walking until it was somewhat central, before letting out a roar so loud, and so vicious, that it shook almost everybody down to their very souls.

Ingolf was standing, looking at the Beast that had just destroyed a part of his spell, and was making its way towards them all. He took a quick look around the camp, before looking at himself. Many of the warriors were breathing through their mouths; their shoulders slumped slightly. There were quite a few who were on the floor, nursing injuries. Even Ingolf himself was covered in cuts and bruises. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth, and was sure he at least had one fractured rib. He then looked at the Barghest one more time, before smirking.

“…well, fuck.” Ingolf said as he sighed and wiped some blood from his face with his forearm.