At one point, Numen encountered an eight-foot-long centipede. The insect possessed a thick exoskeleton and crawled so loudly through the forest floor that Numen could feel his eardrums throb. The creature stopped briefly to take a look at Numen, rising up like a snake preparing to strike. Numen remained perfectly still, afraid that the large centipede might attack him. However, the creature continued on its way and vanished into the trees.
Another creature Numen encountered was a dragonfly that was the size of an eagle. It flew past Numen, missing his head by mere inches. Numen was amazed by how big the dragonfly was.
Eventually, Numen climbed up a tree and slept in the branches. Numen had eaten all of the food and drank all of the ale in the satchel, leaving his stomach satisfied. He wrapped his cloak around himself like a blanket and used the empty satchel as a pillow. Even though he was mostly asleep, Numen could hear the cries of creatures in the dark wilderness.
As Numen slept, he was visited by visions of his family. He could see his father having his chest cleaved in half by a great sword; his face pale with maggots crawling out of his empty eye sockets. Jacto and Daena appeared before Numen drenched in blood with Jacto’s face slashed and Daena’s ribcage exposed.
In unison, the Magnus family asked, “Why didn’t you save us, Numen?”
Numen awoke in a cold sweat to find himself still in the tree. After realizing what he experienced was a nightmare, Numen thought of sinister fantasies of punishing King Robar and his allies. However, Numen knew that these imaginings would not happen without the support of an army.
Suddenly, Numen heard a bellowing roar echo through the forest, causing birds to fly out of nearby branches. The intensity of the roar caused Numen to grip the sides of the branch in surprise.
“What in the Gods’ names was that?” Numen demanded, looking in every direction for the source of the roar.
Then Numen heard people screaming followed by another roar. This time, the noise was closer than before. Through the branches, Numen found where the racket was coming from. Several yards away from Numen’s tree was a collection of five people in their twenties. Their bodies were decorated with intricate blue tribal paint. They were armed with bronze axes and spears that possessed handles made from the bones of animals. Numen immediately recognized them as Welts. From what Numen heard, the Welts were supposedly uncivilized barbarians who refused to submit to House Baal’s rule and lived in the Umbran forests and mountains ever since.
Attacking the Welts was a beast unlike anything Numen had ever seen. The creature resembled a colossal bear with ash-gray fur whose flesh bore countless scars along with many broken arrows sticking out of its muscular back. Its face was both hideous and ferocious at the same time with blood-red eyes, drooping jowls, and sharp crooked teeth. In addition to a tremendous bulk, the beast was armed with large claws like meat hooks. Roaring again, the bear sounded guttural and starving as it approached the Welts. Based on its appearance, Numen immediately recognized the bear.
“It’s the Graega! It’s real!” Numen exclaimed in disbelief.
“Spears, men!” the lead Welt ordered.
In response, the other Welts raised their weapons in preparation to defend themselves. When the Graega approached the Welts, they thrusted their spears into its neck, but three of the spears broke in half. The Graega charged with such ferocity that the Welts were tossed many yards away. Before the lead Welt could rise again, the Graega snatched him in its jaws and snapped his body in two with a single bite. Next, the Graega swiped at another Welt with its huge claws, cleaving his chest open in a burst of blood. Rising to its full height of twelve feet, the Graega roared again before stomping on top of another Welt, crushing his spine. The remaining two Welts managed to get back on their feet with one armed with the remnants of her blade while the other brandished his own spear.
“Aim for the flanks!” the male Welt ordered.
“On it, brother!” the woman answered.
The woman Welt tried to stab at the Graega’s neck with her spearhead as though it were a dagger, but the Graega swiped her aside with one of its paws. The male Welt abandoned his attempt to attack the Graega and went to aid his comrade. She was alive, but they were both cornered by the Graega, which was slowly stalking towards them.
After watching the battle unfold from the safety of his tree, Numen initially thought, Don’t get involved! If you do, that thing will kill you and House Magnus will die with you! Besides, the Welts are simple barbarians! They are of no concern to me!
Then Numen thought of his family; of his siblings being butchered by King Robar’s soldiers. They were innocent lives who were snuffed out before their time by merciless men. The remaining two Welts reminded Numen of his siblings and the Graega reminded him of the Baal soldiers who took them from him. Unable to get the thought out of his head, Numen climbed out of the tree and ran towards the Graega, Gramfyre in hand.
As he charged at the Graega, Numen felt his blood freeze with fear and uncertainty. He was up against a heinous legend that terrorized Umbran for five bloody years. Numen remembered the stories of this creature’s deeds. The most infamous tale was how dozens of hunters and warriors challenged the Graega and fell before it like lambs to the slaughter.
Then the Graega noticed Numen’s presence and turned its attention to him. As Numen glared at the Graega, he knew it was the epitome of fear. Its brimming eyes were like embers of the infernal abyss while its jagged teeth dripped with fresh Welt blood. The fur on its scarred back stood on end like a feral beast preparing to attack its forthcoming prey. Even on all fours, the Graega towered over any man like a giant boulder made of hardened flesh.
What chance do I possibly have? Numen asked himself desperately.
At that moment, the glyphs on Gramfyre’s blade flashed red and Numen felt the all-too-familiar surge of rage course through his veins like a turbulent flood. He reflexively clenched his sword with sweaty hands and gritted his teeth with increasing anger. The fear that once gripped him was replaced with unrelenting aggression and he breathed heavily. Numen recognized the sensation from when he killed the soldiers who murdered his siblings.
At the back of his mind, Numen begged, No! Not now! Don’t lose control! You’ll only get yourself killed!
Noticing Numen approaching, the Graega turned its attention to Numen and charged at him. Numen ran at the Graega as well, ready to strike with Gramfyre. Finally, the two combatants clashed violently. The Graega swiped its claws across Numen’s chest through his leather armor and chainmail while Numen slit the Graega’s throat with Gramfyre.
Numen jumped away from the Graega as the beast choked on its own blood. Examining his own wounds, Numen was surprised that he did not feel pain. Confused, Numen thought his sudden immunity to pain was one of Gramfyre’s powers. Returning his attention to the Graega, Numen saw the creature gagging and convulsing sickeningly. It lumbered towards Numen as though to finish him before it died. Then the Graega collapsed in front of Numen, a pool of blood forming under it.
Sighing with relief, Numen was glad that he survived his duel with the Graega. However, his sense of triumph was short-lived as sharp agony pierced his sternum. Numen stumbled backward slightly as he clutched his chest with his free hand. Gramfyre’s influence over Numen’s pain tolerance was apparently wearing off.
Struggling to stay conscious, Numen turned his attention to the Graega’s corpse lying on him. For a moment, Numen could not believe what had happened. The unholy monster that claimed so many lives and walked away from so many battles was finally slain.
“You!” a voice shouted.
Numen turned his attention to the source of the voice and saw the remaining two Welts, both battered and bruised, gazing at him in both shock and joy.
“You slew the beast that could not be killed!” the male Welt exclaimed, raising his arms in praise.
“Hail to the Monster Slayer!” the female Welt cheered.
His mind and body overwhelmed by the ordeal, Numen
collapsed to the ground as he fell into unconsciousness . . .
CHAPTER 13
King Robar Baal sat in his extravagant great hall of his castle, Blood Arrow, which was the capital of Umbran. Laying in front of him on his table was a large pile of spit roasted meat, which steamed heavily. As he sank his crooked teeth into the meat, Robar savored it succulent and luscious taste and smoky aftertaste.
Staring at a piece of meat on the tip of his knife, Robar taunted, “Well, Your Imperial Majesty, you taste better than I expected.”
Robar then burst into a fit of gurgling laughter, which echoed throughout the hall. Then one of Robar’s soldiers entered the great hall and kneeled before the king.
Irritated, Robar asked, “What do you want?”
Bowing his head low, the soldier replied, “I bring a report on the pursuit of Numen Magnus, Sire. We came across the bodies of two of our men. One was stripped of his armor and they were both robbed of their weapons. We suspect that the Magnus boy is heading north towards his kin, House Letum.”
Robar displayed a disgusting smile as he contemplated, “The Letums share blood with the Magnuses. That means that Imperial blood runs in their veins. If I can get my hands on them and the last Magnus, then I can feed on them and gain the strength to overthrow House Sylva. Has Baron Letum responded to my summons?”
Shaking his head the soldier countered, “I’m afraid he will not come, My Liege.”
Robar glared at the soldier, raised an eyebrow, and demanded, “And why is that?”
“Our spies report that Baron Letum has begun to raise an army to avenge his kin. So far, he has over one thousand men, but we predict that he will have more. He is not preparing for open battle. He is preparing for a prolonged siege in defiance to your rule.”
“Is he now? At least he will make the hunt more fun. Begin levying men for our army and we will march on them. You have a week to prepare.”
“Yes, Sire.”
After those words, the soldier rose to his feet and left Robar alone in the great hall. Soon afterwards, Robar was joined by his wife Melaria. Melaria was a lithe woman who was as pale as death and had ash-gray hair. She possessed the same manic gleam in her eyes that Robar had.
Looking at Melaria with a coy smile, Robar asked, “How is our son?”
Sneering, Melaria answered, “Sleeping like the dead. Is it true that House Letum is being defiant with us?”
“Aye, but we will deal with them shortly.”
“Good because every day they remain defiant the weaker you will look to the barons.”
“Not to worry, My Sweet. By the time all of this is over, I will have what it takes to make our son emperor. For thousands of years House Baal grew stronger as we fed on the flesh of our enemies. Once I have ingested the true Imperial family down to the last child nothing will stand in our way.”
Licking her thin lips with anticipation, Melaria cooed, “I look forward to the day when we feast in the halls of the Imperial Palace.”
“Likewise, My Sweet. Likewise.”
CHAPTER 14
A powerful headache struck Numen as he opened his eyes. At first, his vision was blurry and the only thing Numen could see was a fuzzy image of a tan mass. After blinking a few times, Numen could finally survey his surroundings.
Numen was inside of hut that was constructed by a combination of animal hide and tree branches. He was lying in a bed made entirely of fur pelts, which was very warm. In addition, there were a number of chains consisting of ornamental bones hanging from the top of the hut’s ceiling. Laying on the far side of the hut were his armor and Gramfyre.
As Numen continued to look around, he felt a sharp pain on his sternum. He looked down and saw his chest was wrapped in silk bandages that were soaked in lime-green liquid. Despite the discomfort he felt a moment ago, Numen noticed that it was quickly replaced by a soothing sensation that made his muscles tingle.
Without warning, Numen could see shadows moving outside of the hut. At first, Numen thought he was about to be attacked. His survival instincts became heightened as he prepared to fight.
Curious, Numen asked, “Where am I?”
Suddenly, Numen was startled when a Welt girl pulled back the hut’s tarp and glared at Numen with eager green eyes.
After staring at one another in awkward silence, Numen asked, “Um . . . hello?”
Instead of answering, the Welt girl ran out of the hut and called, “The Monster Slayer awakes!”
There was a considerable gossip outside of the hut as though many people were gathering. However, within moments, there was silence outside of the hut as though whoever was on the other side was waiting. Not knowing what else to do, Numen rose from his bed and put his armor back on, wincing from the pain on his chest.
When he opened the hut’s curtain, Numen was greeted by an eruption of cheering. The ones who were cheering him were thousands of Welts, which included men, women, and children. Their tanned skin was decorated with blue tribal paint. Amongst the crowd were countless other huts as well as corrals that housed the livestock. At the center of the settlement was a large bonfire with a massive animal carcass roasting on a spit. The village was surrounded by dozens of towering stones that bore elaborate runes. It was a sight unlike anything Numen had ever witnessed.
Suddenly, the Welts became silent and Numen noticed someone moving towards him from the crowd. As the figure drew closer, Numen got a better look at him. Approaching Numen was an old Welt man wearing a thick pelt cloak that was decorated with numerous bones. On top of his head was a mask made from a human skull and his long hair draped down his shoulders. In his right gnarled hand was a staff that possessed intricately engraved symbols.
The old man finally stopped in front of Numen and examined him through the eyeholes of his skeletal mask. Numen examined the elder in return. For several moments, there was nothing but silence as Numen and the Welt glared at one another.
Then in a gruff voice, the old Welt said, “I am Jarl Gramba, chieftain of this village. Welcome to the Nathair Clan, Monster Slayer. What do you call yourself?”
Still struggling to process the situation, Numen answered, “I am Numen, sole surviving heir of House Magnus. Why am I here?”
Smiling brightly through his mask, Gramba replied, “You saved my son and daughter from the Dire Beast known as the Graega. For more than five years, the Graega has terrorized the Welt Clans. Countless warriors and hunters challenged it and all of them failed . . . until now. You are here because you killed the beast that could not be slain.
Due to the fact you saved my son, he now owes you a life debt. In accordance with our laws, he will serve you until he saves your life in return. Also, due to our customs, you are married to my daughter as well.”
Overwhelmed, Numen exclaimed, “What?!”
Grinning, Gramba elaborated, “We Welts take repaying debts very seriously. When we become indebted to someone, the Gods demand that we pay them back. For better or worse, you’re my daughter’s husband and son’s master now.”
Still bewildered by what was happening, Numen further said, “I’m sorry, but this is too much! By the way, what did you put on my chest?”
“The Graega cut your chest to the bone, but it missed all vital organs. Without proper treatment, you would die from massive blood loss. Fortunately, the Welts have access to a rare herb called Veilar, which can only be found in these woods. When cleansed of impurities, it will heal wounds in days instead of weeks. By next morning, that wound will be mostly healed, but it will give you a good scar. Consider it a badge of honor as a Monster Slayer.”
Contemplating, Numen asked, “So what happens now?”
Gleeful, Gramba declared, “Now, we celebrate your marriage to my daughter and your victory against the infamous Graega!”
After those words, all of the surrounding Welts cheered and Numen stood as his world changed once more . . .
CHAPTER 15
Foxden Castle was alive with activity as Baron Richard Letu
m oversaw the creation of his army. Richard watched as his middle son, Edward, trained the fresh recruits in combat. Meanwhile, Richard saw his youngest son Benjamin and daughter Lara amassing supplies and weapons for their army. A sense of satisfaction washed over Richard as he watched what was unfolding.
Then Richard’s first born son, Brom, approached him and reported, “Father, everything is going according to your specifications. These soldiers may be raw and undisciplined for now, but I believe they will be ready on time.”
Richard nodded with approval before asking, “How many do we have so far?”
Shrugging his broad shoulders, Brom replied, “I estimate we have over one thousand men who are battle ready. We also have several hundred men who have yet to complete their training.”
“They must be ready in a week otherwise we will not survive when the king’s army arrives.”
In an assuring voice, Brom said, “Don’t worry, Father. Our kin from House Magnus will be avenged.”
Richard paused before saying, “An attack on our kinsmen is an attack on our entire bloodline. Now they are either captured or killed. I will not let our family suffer the same fate.”
Suddenly, a soldier ran to Richard’s side and exclaimed, “Your Grace! Word reached us that King Robar is amassing his own army to put us down before we are ready. So far, he has over eight thousand men and he could have more than twice that within a week. We tried rallying support from the other Houses in Umbran, but they are either with Robar or so frightened of him that they decided to remain neutral. As far as we know, we are on our own.”
As the grimness of their situation sank in, Richard turned to Brom and asked, “How soon can we muster the rest of our forces?”
After calculating, Brom answered, “At our current rate, we will have about one thousand two hundred men by the end of the week. We estimate that the king will outnumber us ten to one when he arrives. Our circumstances will worsen if he manages to summon more Barons to his cause.”
Numen the Slayer (Magnus Dynasty Saga Book 1) Page 5
