Chapter 10: What a Surprise

“Just above those hills, right?” Lucian asked.

They stood in a vast, open grassland bordered by a low mountain range ahead. The journey from Provera had been tedious—none of them had been to this area before, so navigation was a challenge. The closest landmark they recognized was the Forest of Grandia, from which they had traveled north.

Even after straying from the path, they hadn’t encountered a single monster. Not even wildlife. A relief, sure, but also unsettling.

However, the trip had taken most of the day. The sun was now dipping behind the hills they were meant to cross. This is bad. Lucian squinted against the glare. I can’t see anything past those stupid hills. A Scout could be watching us right now, and we wouldn’t even know it.

He shielded his eyes, scanning the ridgeline for anything out of place. Hugh and Raven trailed a few paces behind, keeping pace. Nothing unusual. Just sunlight flaring off the hills.

Wait. Hold on. Lucian immediately glanced around. Damn. This plain’s as flat as a damn plate.

Without hesitation, he gestured for everyone to drop low before hitting the grass himself. A rustling thud followed, then—

“What are you guys doing?” Lucian didn’t even look. He reached out and yanked Raven down beside him. “What the hell was that for?!” she protested, trying to sit up—only for Hugh to gently push her back down.

“Raven, please keep your voice down,” Hugh whispered. “I’m sure Mr. Nyx has a good reason for this.”

“Of course I do,” Lucian muttered. “Over there. Two o’clock. Just beside the peak of that hill.”

Hugh and Raven immediately squinted in opposite directions. “That’s eleven o’clock, Raven,” Hugh corrected.

After adjusting her gaze (correctly this time), Hugh finally saw it too. A flickering flame—not a reflection from the sun. It moved erratically, dancing atop a structure that had to be raised off the ground.

“A watchtower?” Hugh murmured.

“It definitely is,” Lucian confirmed.

“Where? I can’t see anything with the sun in my eyes,” Raven grumbled.

“Do you think they’ve already spotted us, sir?” Hugh asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. What we need right now is a plan.”

“A plan for what?” Raven asked. Lucian ignored her.

“What are you thinking, sir?” Hugh pressed.

“I’m thinking we go for a night raid. Catch them off guard while most of them are resting.”

“Who are we catching off guard?”

“Great idea, sir,” Hugh nodded. “And the darkness will give us cover to get closer.”

“Get closer to who?”

Both men turned to stare at Raven, who seemed determined to ignore the very obvious context clues. Hugh sighed and cleared his throat. “The Vyrks, Raven.”

Raven blinked. “Wait, you’re telling me the Vyrks are right there?” She pointed—entirely in the wrong direction. Lucian sighed and grabbed her wrist, gently steering her arm to point in the right direction. “Oh,” she muttered. “Yeah, okay. I know they’re Raiders and all, and obviously, they gotta live close to raidable places, but I didn’t think they’d be this close to a settlement. Thank the gods for the safety of the paths.”

“That does bother me,” Hugh admitted. “It’s bold of them to set up camp so close to where adventurers could easily find them.”

“I’m banking on the fact that they’re dumb, not bold,” Lucian muttered. He materialized his Master Shield and set it on the ground. “Hugh, can you do another enchantment for me?”

Hugh nodded, summoning his enchanting materials and rolling out his leather placemat. “Of course, sir. Would you like one as well, Raven?”

“Sure, why not?” she shrugged.

“What do you have in mind, sir?”

Lucian thought for a moment before smirking. “I saw a movie once where some superhero threw his shield around. Think you can make that happen?”

Hugh’s expression brightened. “Ah. Yes, sir, I do have a Ferromancy Enchantment in here somewhere. It allows you to control metal—though, I imagine you already have an unusual way of using it in mind.”

Lucian grinned. “Absolutely.”

“And what about you, Raven?”

“I can already enchant my sword myself,” she said, stretching. “Something for my boots, I guess?”

* * *

One, two, step. One, two… Whoop—! Lucian tumbled behind a rock, settling into position.

The plan was simple: Hugh and Raven would create a big enough explosion on the south side of the Vyrks’ walled camp. If they were lucky, the blast would take a few of them out, thinning their numbers before the real fight began.

With a camp that size, there’s gotta be at least twenty of them in there. What was curious, though, was that they hadn’t spotted anyone in the watchtower.

The first step of their plan had been to get as close as possible without being seen. Once they were in position, Raven was supposed to blitz her way to the top and incapacitate whoever was on watch.

“No warnings, easier surprise attack,” he had told them earlier while they planned in the tall grass. And yet… there had been no sounds of struggle.

Lucian glanced up at the tower, tension coiling in his gut, only to see Raven casually peeking her head over the ledge, motioning them to come up.

The nest was empty. Nothing but the smoldering remains of the watch fire, flickering on the verge of dying out. From up here, though, they had a perfect view.

The Vyrk camp rested snugly at the base of the hills, surrounded by a crude wooden palisade. They must all be in there, then. The walls were about the same height as those at Silkmeadow Farm, though far less refined. Jagged splinters jutted from the logs, some almost like makeshift spikes. Whether they were intentional or just shoddy craftsmanship, Lucian didn’t care. He simply materialized his Master Shield and crouched behind the rock he was using for cover.

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However many come out, I’ll knock ‘em down. He braced himself for the explosion, raising his shield to eye level. And then… Nothing. For a moment, he waited. And then, he waited some more. Something began to nag at him—not anxiety, not concern, but something else. It was the same feeling he used to get when he watched recruits messing around with aircraft engines back where he was stationed. That prickling irritation of witnessing someone do something wrong. Annoyance.

What the hell is taking so long? Did they get captured or something? Lucian exhaled sharply and crouched low, moving toward the camp walls. Pressing a hand against the logs, he gauged their height from up close. Ten, maybe twelve feet. Okay, I can work with that. He glanced at the Master Shield in his grip and focused. Hover. Slowly, the shield began to float, lifting him off the ground as he guided it upward along the wall. This is trickier than I thought.

Hugh had said the Ferromancy Enchantment allowed him to manipulate the shield freely—make it float, reshape it, even split it apart and reassemble it later. Lucian, however, wasn’t thrilled about the last two options. The Master Shield wasn’t just any shield—it housed a Master Core within it. And while he didn’t fully understand how it worked, the idea of dismantling it didn’t sit right with him. For now, he was content using it as a floating platform.

As he neared the top, he grabbed hold of the wooden beams and hoisted himself over the edge. Grumbling as he landed, he muttered under his breath, “If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”

Lucian slowly raised his head above the wall for a peek. No one manning the walls. Whatever. Just makes infiltrating easier. He hopped over and landed as quietly as possible on the ramparts. But the moment he was inside, he saw exactly what the holdup had been.

Well. No wonder nothing happened. The soft, orange glow he’d assumed came from torches and bonfires was actually coming from burning shacks scattered across the camp. What the hell happened here?

Lucian jumped off the ramparts, letting the Master Shield lower him down slowly. Whatever it was, it happened recently. From ground level, the extent of the destruction was clear. Every single hut—aside from the ones near the northern wall where he’d entered—had taken some kind of damage. Some were reduced to smoldering rubble, others were still standing but scorched.

The worst of the damage was concentrated in the south, where a raging inferno engulfed multiple buildings, bathing that entire section in an intense orange glow. And at the very edge of the firelight…

A massive, gaping hole in the wall, opening straight into the hills.

So, the camp was already destroyed. Lucian exhaled sharply. They could have at least told me. I wasted all that time waiting for them to start a ruckus. Stepping carefully, he moved toward the breach, avoiding huts that were still actively burning. Now, where are they? And more importantly, what the hell is that stench?

A sudden rustling to his left snapped him into action. Lucian whipped his shield up defensively, raising his hammer over his head in preparation for a strike. The rubble shifted—rocks rolling, pebbles scattering—and then Raven stepped out from behind one of the singed huts.

She spotted Lucian, then mocked him, mimicking his stance with an exaggerated expression. “What are you doing, exactly?” she asked dryly.

Lucian sighed, lowering his shield—but he didn’t dismiss it back into his [Inventory]. He wasn’t sure if the enchantment would remain if he did. “Waiting for the signal. Remember? The signal for the plan? The plan we all agreed on less than an hour ago?”

It had been a solid plan, too.

“Apologies, sir,” Hugh called as he stepped out from the same ruined hut. “I deemed the explosion unnecessary once we saw this place.”

Lucian exhaled sharply. “What the hell happened here?”

Both Raven and Hugh shrugged in unison. “Not sure, sir,” Hugh admitted as Raven wandered toward one of the less damaged huts. “But whatever it was, we just missed it. The fire is still burning strong.”

Lucian huffed. Great minds think alike. “You got that right,” he muttered. He scanned his surroundings once more, looking for any additional clues. Then, something struck him. “No signs of a struggle,” he murmured.

Hugh turned to him. “Sir?”

Lucian’s brows furrowed. “I haven’t seen a single corpse since I entered.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree with that, sir.” Hugh’s voice cut through the eerie silence. “We did find a corpse. It’s by the breach.”

Without another word, Hugh turned and walked toward the gaping hole in the camp’s wall. Lucian followed, his gaze catching on something else as they moved. Small divots and holes littered the area near the breach. He knelt beside one, sifting through the disturbed dirt. Freshly dug. They were looking for something. But what?

“Over here, sir.” Lucian stood and approached Hugh, who was standing at the very edge of the breach. Beyond the destroyed wall stretched a large, open path between the hills. But that wasn’t what caught Lucian’s attention. It was the large red smear at Hugh’s feet. Or rather—

The puddle of congealed blood, strewn body parts, and organs that had pooled in a shallow divot.

Lucian grimaced. “Jesus… what the hell happened to him?” He knelt for a closer look, his eyes narrowing as he took in the grotesque remains. A massive, clawed hand—as big as his face—was half-buried in the dirt. Nearby, a single eyeball floated atop the pool, dislodged from whatever remained of the corpse. “Was this thing a Vyrk before it became… this?”

“I assume it was, sir.”

Lucian stared at the sheer size of the clawed hand. To think I was worried about handling twenty of these things. That hand alone is huge! Then, he smirked. Nah. I’d still win—as long as I have my Master Shield.

“And that stench—did you notice it, sir?” Hugh asked.

“Yeah.” Lucian’s nose wrinkled. “It’s been bothering me since I set foot in this camp. Smells like nothing I’ve ever encountered before.”

Hugh shook his head. “I have, sir.”

Lucian frowned. “What?”

“During a training exercise on a carrier. Some newbie got too big for his britches and thought he could bypass safety protocols.”

Lucian raised a brow. “Safety checks? He didn’t wear the proper gear?”

“Nor use the proper equipment. He was convinced he could do no wrong. While refueling a jet before an exhibition, he used the wrong nozzle. Got splashed with jet fuel just as another jet landed nearby. The engines were hot.”

Lucian’s stomach twisted. “You’re telling me—”

“Yes, sir.” Hugh’s voice was grim. “That stench?” He turned his gaze back to the burning wreckage around them. “It’s the smell of burning organs and flesh.”

Lucian exhaled slowly. Just what the hell happened here? The camp felt different now—less like a battlefield, more like a massacre.

He turned to the intact huts near the north side. “Not every hut’s on fire,” he muttered. “Some Vyrks might still be hiding. We need to sweep the area and—”

“No need,” Raven called, stepping out from behind another hut. “There’s nothing left.” Lucian turned to her. She dusted off her hands. “Checked most of the huts. Nobody inside. Just some food left behind. Looks like they left in a hurry.”

Lucian’s eyes sharpened. “That means they might’ve left the merchant’s stuff behind. Which huts haven’t you checked yet?”

“The ones at two o’clock.” She promptly turned in the eleven o’clock direction.

Lucian dragged a hand down his face. He sighed. “Hugh, make sure she doesn’t get lost, would you?”

Silence.

Lucian frowned. “Hey. Hugh?”

Still no response.

“Hugh, are you still—HOLY SH—!”

Lucian whipped around just in time to see Hugh get impaled through the stomach. A sharp, flexible cable—as thick as a man’s arm—had punched straight through him. Hugh’s mouth opened, trying to form words. “Sir, I think I—” But the rest never came.

Sparks erupted from the cable and his body. Hugh convulsed violently, foaming at the mouth, then went completely limp. The cable whipped back, dragging Hugh into the air like a ragdoll before flinging him into the burning wreckage behind them.

Lucian didn’t even look to see where he landed. His attention was locked on the darkness beyond the breach.

A deep, guttural bellow rumbled through the night. The cable retracted into the shadows, sparks illuminating the ground as it slithered back. Lucian braced his stance, raising his shield as a pair of yellow, glowing eyes flickered in the darkness.

Come on, then! Lucian’s pulse pounded. I’ll kill you first, then find my Enchanter! Then—

A second pair of glowing eyes appeared. Purple. Lucian’s fingers tightened around his warhammer. Two of you? That just means I’ll take twice as long to kill ya!

The ground trembled as the figures stepped into the burning camp’s orange glow. Lucian’s breath hitched.

The cable wasn’t a cable. It was a tail. And it belonged to the hulking creature now standing before him. A beast with the towering frame of the Minotaur—but instead of one head, it had two.

What the—?!

The creature slammed its hooves into the ground and roared, shaking the very air around them.

“Oh my god!” Raven’s voice rang out, full of shock. “IT’S THE DAN-GOW!”