The forest had long since fallen silent, save for the ragged breaths of nine hunters standing in a semicircle around an enormous creature.
The beast before them was a monster out of nightmares—a hulking, eight-meter brute shaped like a boar, but with eight gleaming fangs jutting from its skull like ivory spears. Each tusk curved wickedly forward, ready to impale anything in its path. Mud clung to its hide, glistening under the dim gray light filtering through the dead canopy.
"Spread out! Don't stand in front of it!" Alec's voice cut through the heavy stillness.
He was the tallest among them, his black armor scuffed, his spear dark with old blood. His men moved instinctively at his command, forming a loose ring. The Octagonal Fang Beast snorted once, pawing at the earth with its massive hind legs. The ground trembled.
Alec's heart drummed against his ribs. He had seen what this thing could do to a man—one charge, and even iron plate was nothing but torn scrap.
