(Days before the Ninth's arrival)
''So, my prince,'' Marcus drawled from my right, voice carrying over the creak of saddles, ''Why Bleakmarch? It's a godforsaken bog. Even the wolves avoid hunting there.''
I glanced at the dark-haired centurion, weighing whether to explain for the third damn time. ''Because of the old Veronian Law, I need a place to begin my journey, and Bleakmarch is the perfect spot.''
Before anyone could speak, I continued. ''Then there's the training, the other Veronian Legions polish boots and march in pretty lines. The soldiers we'll rebuild into the Ninth? They need fire. Real blood, real mud, real fear. Drills won't forge that.''
Selene leaned forward, eyes bright with that dangerous spark I knew too well. Garrick cracked his knuckles; the surrounding Legionnaires exchanged quick, eager grins. They were already tasting it. ''Extreme discipline is the key,'' I went on. ''New formations hammered in while arrows fly and beasts charge. They'll break, then they will be rebuilt stronger. Verona's never seen a legion like what we'll make.''
I turned to the endless fields stretching toward the horizon. The hunger stirred low in my gut, sharp, insistent, whispering that I hadn't fed it in too long. I forced it down, jaw tight. ''And I'll be right there in the muck with them. No hiding behind bodyguards, no excuses. I've been a slob long enough.''
Just then, a roar split the air. Horses screamed. Shields clanged up in a heartbeat as the First Cohort snapped into a shieldwall. I scanned the treeline, trying to find the culprit. Something massive moved in the shadows. Thanks to my new Devourer Sense, I could tell it was a Third Circle monster.
Too strong for me, that's when an idea came to mind. Grinning, I turned to the brunette on my left. ''You're up, Selene.''
Her blue eyes sparked with sudden excitement as she nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face. She reached for the helmet and put it on, its long, light-blue plume cascading down her back like a flowing banner, and in that instant, a quiet thought flashed through me.
The exact shade of my eyes.
Seconds later, another roar came again, closer this time, deep enough to rattle my bones. From the treeline out burst the thing itself: a Mountain Ape, easily twice the size of any natural gorilla I'd ever seen on Earth. Its fur was black and iron-grey, streaked with scars that gleamed wet in the fading light.
Shoulders like boulders rolled under skin stretched too tight; forearms thicker than my thighs ended in fists the size of shields. When it reared up on its hind legs, it towered nearly twelve feet, chest heaving, yellowed fangs bared in a snarl that carried the stink of old blood even from this distance.
This is the strongest creature I've seen so far, I mused. Soon, I'll be able to kill stuff like that.
The First Cohort formed a shieldwall, but I could feel the tremor coming from the monster as it beat the ground, creating a mini earthquake. It was a Third Circle creature. Not invincible, but the kind of beast that could turn a man into mush with one swing. I didn't move. Neither did she.
She slid from her saddle in one smooth motion, boots hitting the dirt without a sound. The longsword came free of its scabbard, black-hilted, single-edged, the blade so dark it seemed to drink the last of the sun. She wasn't nervous and walked forward ten paces, stopped, and planted her feet in a wide, relaxed stance.
The wind caught her plume and cape, sending them whipping sideways. Moments later, the ape charged. It moved faster than anything that big had any right to. Thanks to its size, it cracked the earth, each footfall sending clods of turf flying. Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten. The soldiers braced, spears levelled, but I raised a hand.
I noticed Selene was waiting. At five yards, the beast launched itself skyward in a leap meant to crush her flat. Time seemed to stretch as the fight was about to begin. She's a Sixth Circle Warrior; she'll be fine.
Moments later, I saw her prepare as the monster's shadow swallowed her. Then she moved. Not a dodge, a single sidestep that carried her just outside the killing arc of its descending fists. The impact shook the ground; two craters punched into the dirt where she'd been standing.
Before the ape could recover, Selene rode the wave and got inside its guard quicker than I ever expected. Her sword flashed only once, low, horizontal, aimed at the thick tendon behind the left knee. The blade bit deep, parting fur and muscle with a wet crunch. The ape bellowed and staggered, leg buckling.
She didn't stop and pivoted, a rising cut that carved a long red line from hip to ribs. Blood sprayed in an arc. Oh wow! She's skilled!
The beast swung wildly with its right arm; she ducked under it, came up inside the reach, and drove the point of her sword straight through the meat of its forearm, pinning the limb to its own thigh. The monster shrieked, wrenching backwards, taking half its own muscle with the blade as it tore free.
Selene skillfully spun away, blood flicking from the edge in a fine mist. The ape lunged again, off-balance this time. She met it head-on this time: dropped low, rolled her shoulder under its chest, and used its own momentum to flip it over her hip. Twelve hundred pounds of muscle and rage slammed into the ground on its back.
Before it could rise, she was on it. One boot planted on its throat, the other on its wrist. Sword raised high in both hands as it thrashed, claws raking furrows in the earth inches from her legs. She didn't flinch. Then she brought the blade down. A single, perfect stroke, through fur, bone, and the thick column of its neck.
The head came away clean, rolling a lazy half-turn before it stopped right in front of me, like she was gifting me. I noticed its eyes were still wide with fury. Silence fell, broken only by the wet drip of blood and the low whistle of wind through the trees. Selene straightened. She flicked the sword once to clear it, then sheathed it without looking.
A single streak of black blood painted her helm; she wiped it away with the back of her hand like it was nothing more than rain. She turned to me then, breathing steady, eyes bright with that same dangerous spark.
''Next time,'' she said, amused. ''You take the big one.''
I grinned back. ''Deal.''
Behind us, the Legionnaires let out a ragged cheer, half awe, half relief. Shields lowered. Spears tipped toward the sky. Bleakmarch had just received its first lesson. And we'd only just begun. By the time we reached the Long Road, we saw scouts of the Ninth, but something was up as a flood of people travelled along it.
I turned to Marcus. ''We'll camp here for the night, Centurion. Get the soldiers in and tell the Cohort to start constructing the fort I mentioned. You have all the plans, work with the other Centurions to see that it gets done.''
''Yes, your highness!'' the older man replied, saluting before rushing off.
When Marcus vanished, Selene slowly approached without taking her helmet off and dropped to one knee, declaring. ''That kill was for you, my prince.''
''Thank you, Sel,'' I responded, smirking. ''The new armour and sword suits you. I like the light blue plume, it looked good on you.''
She beamed. ''Good! It only needed some minor tweaks, but as your sword, I strive to improve and show you my worth.''
I stepped forward, placing my hand on her shoulder. ''Just find me some good bodyguards, and make sure the camp is locked down while I'm away.''
Garrick heard my words and glanced at me. ''Where are you going, your highness?''
Without answering straight away, I summoned my claws that appeared, letting out a ching as the black biomass grew up my arms, powering me up as I finally replied. ''Hunting, I'm hungry and need to fill up.''
Seconds later, the raw power surging through my limbs demanded release. In the next moment, I exploded forward into a sprint, the ground blurring beneath me as I outran any speed a normal human could dream of. The landscape smeared into streaks of colour, grass, sky, distant hills, all dissolving into motion as a forest rose on the horizon.
I angled straight toward it. As I closed the distance, shapes stepped out from the treeline: four Forest Wolves, First Circle beasts, slinking low, looking for something to eat. Their yellow eyes locked onto me. A feral grin split my face as I had already decided to kill. I skidded to a halt dead centre among them.
For one frozen heartbeat, they stared, confused, then my claws were already moving. Instinct pushed me forward, slicing into the unaware creatures. Four bodies came apart in wet chunks before the first drop of blood even hit the dirt. They never had time to snarl, much less lunge.
I stood in the centre of the steaming remains, breathing steady, the grin still sharp on my lips. I crouched amid the steaming carcasses, the metallic tang of fresh blood sharp in the air. Four Forest Wolves lay in ruined heaps around me, limbs twisted at wrong angles, fur matted dark and wet.
Their eyes, still open, stared blankly at nothing. First things first. I reached into the nearest corpse, fingers sliding inside until they closed around something hard and pulsing. A grey core, its surface dull and clouded like smoked quartz. I pulled it free with a wet pop, wiped the worst of the gore on the pelt, and dropped it into the leather pouch at my belt.
Three more followed in quick succession. Each core came away with the same faint tug of resistance, like pulling a tooth, and each one sent a tiny ripple of cold energy up my arm. Four grey cores. First Circle quality. Not bad for a warm-up. But the real prize was still waiting.
Kneeling beside the closest wolf again. This one had been the alpha, judging by the thicker ruff and the way the others had fanned out around it. Its ribcage was already split open. I drove my hand in deeper, past shattered bone, until my fingers found the heart. It was still faintly beating in that sluggish, post-mortem way monster hearts sometimes do.
I gripped it, tore it free in one smooth yank, and brought the dripping organ up to eye level. Dark red, veined with faint silver threads that pulsed once, weakly. I didn't hesitate and bit into it. The taste hit like iron, bitter, coppery. Hot blood flooded my mouth. I swallowed it down in greedy gulps, tearing off chunks with my teeth.
Each bite sent a rush straight through me, a molten current that poured down my throat and kept going, sinking deeper, pooling somewhere. My Mana Well answered instantly. It was like dropping liquid starlight into a dry riverbed. It was still mostly empty after my earlier breakthrough, so it drank the energy greedily.
I could feel it happening: threads of mana energy uncoiling from the devoured heart, spiralling down through channels I hadn't even known were there until today, feeding the shallow basin inside me. The well shivered, expanded a tiny fraction, its edges glowing brighter. Not a full step up, not yet, but a solid, satisfying inch deeper.
I finished the first heart in four bites, licked the last of the blood from my lips, and moved to the next wolf. By the time I'd eaten all four, my chin and hands were painted crimson, my stomach felt strangely full, not with food, but with something heavier, brighter. The Mana Well thrummed steadily now, no longer a faint trickle but a slow, confident pulse.
Afterwards, I wiped my mouth on the back of my forearm, stood, and glanced back at the treeline. It felt like the forest was watching me in silence. I grinned again, sharper this time, teeth still covered in blood, and flexed my claws, admiring their sharpness and wondering how my new family would react to such powers.
I felt the strength was still there, humming under my skin. The cores were secure on my belt. The well was fuller than it had been ten minutes ago. And I was just getting started. I turned deeper into the trees and started walking.