Book 1: Chapter 27: Slaughterstorm.

Book 1: Chapter 27: Slaughterstorm.

Little was the sleep I had earned once morning came. Instead, dawn found me outside, already carrying back pails of milk from the pasture. My chores finished, I donned Gareks heavy armor, lumbered past Artyoms still-asleep form, grabbed several bags, and headed for the fields. I would need spores in great measure for what I had in mind.

It required slow, careful work, but I was finished before Ishila came trudging down the road toward me, lost in her thoughts.

The stonemongers pose a continued problem, I grunted in response to her query. I will force a solution.

Id tell you to stay safe, She offered, expression both wry and tired. But I doubt ya need the warnin.

I didnt, but to say I left the sentiments unappreciated would be a lie. I spent scarce time laying out her work for the day, directed her to build scarecrows and mount what stonemonger corpses remained, and then moved to set off. For a moment, I glanced between my remaining bag of spores and the mandrake plants, tempted. Done right, they could offer an immediate solution to all that ailed me. Yet the risk involved was frankly insane.

I was not fully equipped for that, and neither was anyone around me, I suspected.

A random train of thought gave me pause once more. If killing things was a guaranteed way to level up in this world, these specific plants were a level-grinders wet dream. The image of some maniac strolling into a city with one of these wrung a shudder out of me.

Horrifying.

With a vague thought to do something when I got back on my mind, I shouldered my pack and set off up the slopes that led to Mount Redtip.

A long, grim day awaited me, and I was not about to keep it waiting. Might as well go and get it over with. Scarce as the traffic was, it was still far more occupied than any time before. Riders trotted along on patrol, and a few other farmers recognized the same opportunity I had. Carts laden with goods trundled towards the camp, and I silently nodded my own greetings as I met them.

But that was not my destination today. I turned towards Lerishs lodge where the path split, and with due haste, I arrived. The huntress awaited me, splayed out peacefully in a hammock. She raised a hand in greeting as I approached, and then sat upright. One bright eye regarded me, the other socket empty and scarred.

Not too early, not too late. She grunted in approval. You have everything?

Aye. On my end anyhow. You?

She gestured at a pack that leaned against the wall of her lodge.

Healing flasks. Emergency items. Only what we need in the worst situations. Pray it doesnt come to that. Prepare for it anyway.

This was her way of thanking me, I knew. She had little personal investment in my problems with the stonemonger swarms, yet had offered to guide me to their nests.

And I was ready to engage in some good ol shotgun diplomacy.

My eagerness to move was not hidden, I suspect. Yet Lerish wasted little time. She had grabbed her stuff and was moving towards the undergrowth in heartbeats, with me close behind.

I will admit, the huntress was silent as she moved through the overgrown forest. I was not. Branches snapped with every few steps I took, trees were pushed aside to make room and she quickly grew annoyed. I shrugged helplessly as she threw annoyed glances back at me. Nothing as large as my frame was made to be quiet.

The entire point of ambushing a stonemonger nest is not to be heard half a horizon away. She hissed as a particularly loud snap cracked through the air. I attempted several more steps, at which point she gave up and stalked back along the trail.

I was not a farmer.

I was a berserker.

A god of blood and fury granted a mortal shell.

Lost in the fury, I nearly forgot myself.

Blood beat through my eyes as my mind demanded death to any that stood before me. The Gods Above had made all on this world, large and small. But it was I that made them equal in death.

Great was the effort that forced me away from the slaughter and towards my real objective. Screeching stonemongers gathered around the stone idols, weapons in hand as one of their kind gestured toward me and screamed guttural words.

They would die here, bleeding for every step I took. Desperate to protect their gods.

Let them.

The earth shook beneath me as I stomped at the last defenders. All hesitation was gone as the sanguine red rush enveloped my being. I was divine, a deity of blood and carnage. Faces I would soon forget died screaming beneath my blade, their attempts to stop me futile. I never ceased momentum, but carried forward until I stood before their Stone Gods.

Brutal Swing tore through the stone as attacks glanced off my back. One stature toppled, followed by another. I rent their idols in twain, then rampaged through the rubble until they were reduced to pieces, killing all the while.

Screams of fury, anguish and rage rang through the nest, but their spirit was broken. Those that still lived fled into the wilderness, chased by arrows all the while.

I stood panting in the center of it all as the red rage cleared from my mind and I beheld the destruction I had wrought, Yet I refused to ignore it all and look away like a coward. I had this to protect me and mine. My face grim, I wiped the blood from my blade and looked to where Lerish emerged.

If the slaughter bothered her, the huntress was excellent at hiding it.

She nodded on approach and examined the idols.

Worship their own pantheon. She explained. Every nest is built around these carved rocks. Where there are no rocks, there are no stonemongers.

And you know all the locations in this area? I grimaced and watched a plethora of biter pods gnaw at a corpse.

Most of them. Some small ones are well hidden. Big ones are the ones to focus on. Bigger statues, more stonemongers. Simple.

I nodded grimly and sheathed my blade.

Then let us move on. The bloodshed here is done and the nest is cleared.

A long, bloody day lay ahead of us, and who was I to keep it waiting?