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Chapter 2 - Beast Horde

The air over Kasha hung thick with the metallic tang of fear and the acrid reek of burnt out thatch.

Dawn, usually a gentle painter of the valley, bled crimson over the eastern peaks, casting long, grasping shadows that seemed to mirror the terror gripping the town.

William stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Kasha's hunters on the hastily reinforced palisade, his knuckles white around the grip of his short sword. Its blade, nicked and stained, felt like the only solid thing in a world unraveling.

Below, the Plowhorn horde churned. They were nightmares given form hulking brutes the size of draft horses, their hides thick and leathery, armored with plates of jagged, stony carapace that scraped against the earth like grinding millstones.

But it was their forelimbs that froze the blood: massive, triple-jointed claws, honed to razor-sharp points that gleamed wickedly in the bloody dawn light. Each step they took gouged deep furrows in the earth, living plows of destruction. And at their head, towering over the rest, stood the Alpha. It was larger, its stony back ridged like a spine of obsidian.

A small town like Kasha usually face tier 1 horde, hardly one tier 2 horde in a year but a tier 3 horde was like a death sentence for Kasha and its people.

Mayor Li,at the age of 55,only tier three human in Kasha,wasn't a warrior by trade, but desperation had forged him into one. His face, etched with lines of worry that had deepened into trenches of resolve, was pale beneath the grime.

"Steady, lads!" Mayor Li's voice, usually calm and measured, cracked like a whip over the din of panicked shouts and the beast's guttural roars. He stood just ahead of William, his own longsword held high, its point trembling slightly.

The Alpha threw back its massive head and bellowed, a sound that vibrated in William's bones and sent shivers down his spine. It was the signal. The horde surged forward, a tide of muscle, stone, and razor-sharp death.

"NOW!" Li bellowed.

Arrows hissed from the palisade, thudding harmlessly against the thick hides or sparking off the stony plates. A few found eyes or softer joints, eliciting roars of pain, but they were insignificant against the sheer numbers. The first wave of Plowhorns slammed into the wooden barrier. The timbers groaned, splintered, and then shattered like kindling. Hunters were flung aside like ragdolls, bones snapping under the impact or torn apart by the vicious claws.

Chaos erupted. William found himself in the thick of it, his short sword a blur of desperate motion. He ducked under a sweeping claw that whistled past his ear, feeling the wind of its passage. He drove his blade into the softer flesh beneath a Plowhorn's jaw as it reared, feeling the sickening resistance give way. Black, viscous blood sprayed his face. He yanked the sword free, stumbling back as the beast crashed down, crushing two hunters beneath its bulk.

He saw Tomas, for a moment, truly heroic. The big man planted his feet, braced his spear, and took the full charge of a Plowhorn head-on. The spear point punched deep into the beast's chest, but the momentum carried it forward, impaling Tomas against the shattered remnants of the gate. Tomas roared, not in pain, but in defiance, driving the spear deeper until the light faded from his eyes and the beast collapsed on top of him. The mockery was gone, replaced by grim finality.

Karl screamed. William whipped his head around. The boy had been knocked down near the well, a smaller Plowhorn, perhaps a juvenile, looming over him, its claws raised. William charged, bellowing a wordless cry. He slammed his shoulder into the beast's flank, knocking it off balance. His short sword flashed, hamstringing the creature. It shrieked, thrashing, but William grabbed Karl's tunic and hauled him up, shoving him towards the relative safety of the town square.

"Run! To the bunker! NOW!" William odered. Karl stumbled, tears streaming down his face, but scrambled away.

William turned back to the nightmare. The line was collapsing. Hunters were falling like wheat before a scythe. And then he saw Mayor Li.

The Mayor stood alone before the Alpha. He'd rallied a handful of the bravest, forming a desperate last stand near the town wall. They fought with the fury of cornered animals, but the Plowhorn were relentless. They swarmed aside hunters like flies, their claws rending armor and flesh of tier one human with equal ease.

Li fought with astonishing skill for a man of his years, his longsword a silver arc, finding gaps in the Alpha's defenses, drawing lines of dark blood. But it was futile. The Alpha was too strong, too fast.

William saw the moment it happened. Li, overextended after a long brawl with the alpha left himself open for a fraction of a second. The Alpha's massive claw, moving with terrifying speed, swept in.

It wasn't a killing blow aimed at the body, but a brutal, backhanded strike that caught Li across the chest and face. There was a horrific crunch of bone and cartilage. Li's sword flew from his hand, clattering on the cobblestones. He was lifted clean off his feet, spinning through the air before crashing down in broken wall near William's position. His eyes, wide with shock and fading light, met William's for a single, agonizing second before glazing over. Mayor Li was dead.

A wave of despair, colder and more paralyzing than any fear, washed over William. Li was Kasha's only tier 3 hunter aginst tier 3 alpha Plowhorn.

With him gone, the hunters' spirit shattered. The remaining defenders faltered, their coordinated resistance dissolving into panicked, individual struggles. The Alpha, sensing victory, let out another earth-shaking bellow, and the horde redoubled its efforts.

William knew. Kasha was lost. The thought was a physical blow. He looked towards the town square. Smoke billowed from burning roofs. Screams of the trapped and the dying filled the air. He saw figures sprinting towards forest.Some ran towards the bunker built into the hillside at the town's edge, which door is still open for wounded hunters .

He had to get there. He had to warn them . He turned, pushing through the chaos, his short sword held ready. He was almost to the edge of the main square when a Plowhorn, smaller than the Alpha but still massive, lunged from the alley beside the smithy.

William reacted instinctively, twisting aside, but not fast enough. One of the beast's secondary claws, wickedly sharp, raked across his left side, just below the ribs.

Agony exploded through him. It felt like his insides were being ripped out. He gasped, stumbling, his vision swimming. He looked down. His tunic was shredded, and a deep, ragged gash ran across his abdomen, already welling with bright red blood that soaked into the rough fabric. The pain was immense, stealing his breath, making his legs tremble.

The Plowhorn, sensing easy prey, advanced, its head low, claws scraping stone. William wanted to raise his short sword, but his arm felt numb. He couldn't muster the strength for another parry, let alone an attack. He was going to die here, in the dirt of his ruined town, watching the beast that killed Li finish him.

Then, a flicker of movement near the fallen Mayor caught his eye. Li's body lay where it fell, but something glinted near his outstretched hand. William's locket. The small, silver disc on a chain that William always wore, tucked beneath his tunic – a gift probably from his parents , containing a tiny, faded portrait of a lightning dragon. In the chaos of Li's fall, the chain must have snagged or broken. It lay in the dust and blood, miraculously unharmed.

As the Plowhorn tensed to lunge, William did the only thing he could think of. He threw himself sideways, not away from the beast, but towards the locket. His fingers closed around the cool metal just as the Plowhorn's claws slashed the air where he'd been. He scrambled backwards on his hands and knees, clutching the locket, leaving a trail of blood on the cobblestones. The beast, momentarily confused by his erratic movement, hesitated.

William didn't wait. Fuelled by adrenaline and sheer terror, he pushed himself up and ran. Not towards the bunker.

He was too slow, too wounded, he'd only bring the beast down on the survivors. He ran into the dense, forest that bordered Kasha to the south. The trees offered cover, a chance, however slim, to lose his pursuer and maybe…

maybe find a way to survive.

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