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Chapter 8: Monsters in the Dust

  The second day on the road felt longer than the first.

  The badlands stretched out in every direction — cracked earth, scattered boulders, and patches of dry scrub that clung stubbornly to life.

  The Tile River had curved away hours ago, leaving them on a dusty trail that wound toward the intersection. The air was drier here, carrying the faint metallic taste of distant ley veins and the ever-present ash haze from Ashfall’s crater.

  Gray walked beside Tamemoto, eyes scanning the sides of the road. Every rock, every dip in the ground, every clump of tall grass — he catalogued it the way Gauis had taught him. Tamemoto stayed close, small practice blade at his belt, steps steadier than they had been six months ago.

  Gauis walked a few paces ahead with Rorik and the two mercenaries.

  The group moved in loose formation, the cart creaking behind them loaded with spare axle parts and tools.

  No one spoke much. Karg and Vesh kept their cold posture, eyes on the horizon. They were here for the pay and nothing else. Gauis had warned Gray and Tamemoto about men like them before they left Camp Tile.

  The attack came without warning.

  A handful of bandits burst from behind a cluster of boulders — five ragged men, blades drawn, no aura coating their weapons. They charged with desperate hunger, shouting for the cart and anything valuable.

  Rorik cursed and drew his sword.

  Gauis moved first.

  He didn’t shout orders. He simply stepped forward, knife flashing in a low arc. The first bandit swung wildly. Gauis sidestepped, used the man’s momentum to slam him face-first into a rock.

  “Crack!” Bone shattered. The bandit dropped with a choked scream.

  “Aaaah—!” he howled, clutching his broken face, blood pouring between his fingers.

  Karg roared and swung his heavy axe, cleaving through the air. The blade bit into a bandit’s shoulder.

  “Gahhh!” the man screamed, arm hanging useless, blood soaking his rags as he staggered back.

  Vesh moved like a desert viper — quick slashes, precise, deadly. His curved blade opened a deep gash across another bandit’s chest.

  “Urgh—!” the attacker gasped, dropping his weapon and clutching the wound.

  Dren nocked an arrow in a heartbeat and loosed. The shaft punched through a bandit’s thigh.

  “Argh!” the man cried, dropping to one knee.

  Gray didn’t hesitate either.

  He grabbed a fist-sized rock from the ground and hurled it at the nearest bandit’s face. The stone cracked against the man’s cheekbone.

  “Argh!” the bandit yelped, staggering.

  Gray was already inside his reach, knife driving up under the ribs — twist, pull. Hot blood sprayed across his wrist.

  “Gaaaah—!” the man screamed, collapsing to his knees, hands clawing at the wound.

  Tamemoto stayed back at first, but when one bandit broke toward the cart, the younger boy stepped forward. He used the low sweep Gauis had taught him, tripping the man. The bandit fell hard.

  “Uff!” the attacker groaned, wind knocked out of him.

  Tamemoto kicked him once in the head — not hard enough to kill, but enough to keep him down.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Nngh…” the bandit moaned, dazed.

  The fight ended in under a minute.

  The group stood breathing hard. No one was injured. The bandits lay scattered on the ground — dead or unconscious, groaning and whimpering in pain.

  Rorik wiped his blade on a dead man’s cloak. “Clean work. You three know how to handle yourselves.”

  Gauis only nodded once. He looked at Gray and Tamemoto. “You both did well. But stay sharper next time. Bandits are the easy ones.”

  They continued.

  A few hundred meters later, the broken caravan came into view — two wagons tilted sideways, one axle snapped clean. Several guards stood around it, weapons ready.

  But something was wrong.

  The air changed.

  A low, guttural roar rolled across the badlands — so deep it vibrated in Gray’s chest and made his teeth ache. The sound wasn’t human. It was hungry.

  From the scrubland to their left, a small pack of monsters burst out.

  Four creatures — bigger than any man, hunched and muscular, covered in coarse gray hide streaked with black. Their heads were blunt and wide, jaws lined with jagged teeth. Eyes glowed faint red. They moved with terrifying speed despite their size, claws tearing up dust as they charged.

  Gray’s mind froze for half a second.

  How are they that fast?

  The roar came again — soul-deafening, like thunder inside his skull. His legs locked. Tamemoto beside him went rigid, eyes wide with terror.

  “Aaaah—!” Tamemoto cried out, the sound high and panicked.

  The monsters split.

  One charged straight at Rorik and the mercenaries.

  Two veered toward Gauis.

  The last one — the biggest — barreled toward Gray and Tamemoto.

  Gray snapped out of it first.

  He grabbed Tamemoto’s arm and yanked him sideways. “Move!”

  “Hngh—!” Gray grunted as pain flared in his still-healing arm.

  They scattered.

  The monster roared again. Its claws raked the ground where they had been standing, sending rocks flying like shrapnel.

  “Grahhh!” the creature bellowed, shaking the earth.

  Gauis moved like a ghost.

  He didn’t coat his knife with visible aura. There was no glowing edge, no dramatic flare.

  But when he struck, Gray felt it — an invisible pressure in the air, sharp and cutting,

  like the world itself was sharpening around the blade.

  Gauis stepped inside the monster’s reach, knife flashing in a clean arc.

  The creature’s hide parted as if it were paper. Black blood sprayed.

  “ROOOAR—!” the monster howled in agony, swinging a massive claw.

  Gauis ducked under it, used the creature’s own momentum to drive the knife up into its armpit — a precise, surgical cut. The monster staggered.

  “Hrrraaagh!” it roared, voice cracking as it collapsed with a wet thud.

  Rorik hacked at one’s leg.

  “Take that, you ugly bastard!” he shouted, blade biting deep.

  Karg swung his axe in wide arcs.

  “Die!” he bellowed, axe cleaving hide.

  Vesh darted in and out, slashing tendons.

  “Hss!” he hissed through gritted teeth as a claw grazed his arm.

  Dren loosed an arrow from the side, the shaft sinking into the monster’s eye.

  “Grrraa!” the creature snarled, thrashing blindly.

  Gray and Tamemoto fought together.

  The biggest monster charged them again.

  Gray snatched a jagged rock from the ground and hurled it straight into the creature’s eye. The stone cracked against bone.

  “GRAAAH!” the monster roared in pain and slowed for half a second.

  Tamemoto remembered Gauis’s words.

  He grabbed a handful of dust and threw it into the monster’s face. The creature shook its head, blinded for a moment.

  “Grrraa!” it snarled, thrashing.

  Gray used that heartbeat.

  He darted in low, knife driving into the soft spot behind the knee. The blade sank deep.

  “ROOOAR—!” the monster howled, bucking.

  Gray rolled away before the claws could reach him.

  Tamemoto finished it — he drove his small practice blade into the other leg’s tendon.

  “Hrrraaagh!” the monster bellowed, collapsing with a final, earth-shaking roar.

  The fight ended.

  The badlands fell silent except for heavy breathing and the distant call of a caravan bell far down the road.

  Gauis walked over, knife still in hand. He looked at both boys — blood on their clothes, but alive.

  “You did good,” he said quietly. “Both of you. Those monsters rely on numbers and fear. You used your heads. That’s how you survive.”

  Gray wiped his knife on the monster’s hide. His hands were steady, but his heart was still pounding.

  “Hngh…” Gray grunted softly, flexing his arm as pain flared again.

  Tamemoto stared at the dead creature. His small chest heaved. There was blood on his lip from biting it too hard, but his eyes held something new — not just fear. Understanding.

  “It… it really hurts,” Tamemoto whispered, voice trembling as he clutched his side.

  They reached the broken caravan minutes later.

  The guards there looked relieved. Rorik began negotiating the delivery of the parts.

  Gray stood a little apart, watching the badlands stretch into the distance.

  The world felt bigger now.

  And he was finally stepping into it.

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