The Threian salvage operation proceeded under the constant threat of disturbing an Owlbear’s slumber. Workers, clad in their simple armor and the soldiers, silently butchered the carcasses of Laughing Wolves – their fur, already stained crimson, now slick with newly spilled blood. They worked with grim efficiency, their movements precise and economical. A low hum of activity, punctuated by the rhythmic *thunk* of cleavers against bone, filled the air.

Suddenly, a tremor ran through the ground. It wasn’t the Owlbear stirring; this was different, sharper, more predatory. From the shadows between the fallen trees erupted a Dargan. Its massive form – a feline silhouette, larger than any horse, with the unmistakable saber-tooth canines of a prehistoric predator – burst into the clearing. Thick, leathery hide, covered in dried blood.

“Dargan!” a Threian soldier yelled, his voice hoarse and cutting through the sudden silence. The warning was too late for several workers.

The Dargan, a blur of muscle and fur, targeted the unprotected scavengers. Its first strike was swift and brutal. A worker, mid-slice across a wolf’s flank, never saw it coming.

The Dargan’s massive paw connected with the back of the worker’s skull, the sound of the impact sickeningly loud. The worker crumpled, a crimson spray erupting from the shattered bone.

Another worker, attempting to flee, stumbled. Before he could react, the Dargan’s claws ripped through his leather jerkin, leaving deep, ragged gashes across his torso. He screamed, a high-pitched, terrified sound quickly cut short as the Dargan’s teeth closed around his throat.

“Form a shield wall!” another soldier shouted, drawing his sword. Several soldiers formed a ragged line, their weapons raised, but the Dargan cleverly avoided this defense. Its superior speed and agility allowed it to circle the formation, focusing its attacks on the vulnerable workers.

“Damn beast!” a Threian snarled, lunging with his spear. The Dargan sidestepped, its tail lashing out, catching the soldier across the chest. He staggered back, spitting blood.

“It’s too fast!” another soldier shouted, desperately trying to maintain their defensive formation. “Concentrate the attacks on its legs!”

A flurry of blows rained down on the Dargan, projectiles finding their mark in its thick hide. But the Dargan seemed impervious to such weak attacks. It roared, a sound like tearing metal, and its assault continued. Each attack was deadly, precise, and horrifically efficient.

A soldier, trying to help a wounded comrade, was yanked to the ground by the Dargan’s powerful jaws. His screams were cut short as the beast’s fangs tore through his flesh. His body twitched for a moment, then lay still, limbs sprawled in a grotesque parody of life.

“We need to lure it!” one soldier shouted, his voice strained. “Away from the others!”

A few soldiers began a strategic retreat, drawing the Dargan’s attention away from the remaining workers. The beast followed, its massive form a terrifying shadow against the clear sky.

“Damn it, it won’t stop!”

The soldiers who were better equipped than the workers, only managed to inflict scratch injuries on the Dargan now, even after focusing on its legs and vulnerable areas. The small scratches did not affect the powerful creature at all.

The fight continued, a brutal ballet of blood and death. The ground was littered with corpses, the air thick with the stench of blood and fear. The Threian’s were slowly losing the battle.

“We need to retreat!” one of them yelled, his voice filled with a desperation. “Get the bodies! We need to leave!”

*****

“Which bloody moron is shouting?” Captain Baldred’s voice, rough as granite, cut through the air. He peeled his gaze from the slumbering Owlbear, its massive form a grotesque heap of muscle and fur in the dim light of the partially concealed cavern. The creature’s ragged breathing was a low, guttural rumble that vibrated the ground.

His two lieutenants, Kael and Gerber, stood flanking him, their faces grim and etched with fatigue. The rest of the Threians were busy stripping the battlefield of usable loot – meat and fur and anything salvageable from the carnage left behind by the Owlbear.

A wave of panicked shouting erupted from the workers. They were sprinting, a disorganized mass of limbs and terrified faces, directly towards the sleeping behemoth. The sound was jarring against the stillness of the day. Gerber instinctively raised his hand, attempting to signal silence, but his gestures were lost in the chaos.

The workers, their eyes wide with terror, seemed oblivious to the danger. They were running blindly, their screams growing louder with each panicked step.

A shimmering, battle energy-forged blade appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. It sliced through the air with brutal efficiency, bisecting a worker at the forefront of the charge, right at the waist.

The upper half of his body collapsed in a spray of blood and viscera; his lower half stumbled forward several steps before finally toppling. The sudden, violent interruption halted the panicked rush.

A stunned silence descended before a younger worker, eyes wild with fear and a desperate glint of defiance, took a deep breath. He drew himself up to his full height.

“Since you people are treating our lives as mere disposables… Let’s just die together,” he muttered, his voice tight with terror and adrenaline. Then, with a raw, primal scream, he let out a bloodcurdling yell that ripped through the night.

“AAAAAHHHH!!!”

“Shut your damn mouth!” Baldred roared, his voice filled with anger because of the man’s idiocy. His reaction was immediate. A blur of motion, a glint of steel, and the young worker slumped to the ground, a crimson stain blooming across his chest. The captain’s sword, still dripping, was returned to its scabbard with practiced efficiency.

Although the Captain acted swiftly, the damage was done.

The Owlbear stirred.

Its massive head lifted, the eyes, twin pools of malevolent intelligence, slowly opened. A low growl, deeper and more menacing than before, rumbled from its chest, shaking the very earth beneath their feet.

“Damn it all to hell,” Kael cursed, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword.

The Owlbear rose to its feet, its monstrous bulk casting long, menacing shadows. The initial shock gave way to frenetic activity. The remaining workers scattered, their earlier panic now tinged with outright terror as they scrambled to escape the monstrous predator’s wrath.

Baldred, his face grim, charged towards the Owlbear. He met the beast’s attack head-on, their clash of steel a deafening roar that punctuated the chaotic scene. Sparks flew as the captain’s sword met the owlbear’s claws, a deadly dance of skill and brute strength.

The battle was fierce, a brutal dance of death. The ground was covered in pits and cracks, the air thick with the stench of death and fear.

Baldred fought with the furious desperation of a cornered animal, his every movement precise and deadly. But the Owlbear was a relentless killing machine, its massive strength and razor-sharp claws proving a formidable challenge.

The fight ended with Captain Baldred being thrown away after receiving a swipe from the Owlbear. Though he managed to deflect the attack, the massive force behind it force his blade to give way and the creature’s claws reached his chest.

“Run!” Captain Baldred shouted, the word a ragged rasp against the cacophony of snarling and iron. His enchanted sword, usually a blur of lethal strikes, bounced harmlessly off the Owlbear’s shimmering, arcane barrier. Each swing, fueled by Baldred’s battle energy, produced only a dull thud, the sound swallowed by the creature’s roars.

The Owlbear, a grotesque amalgamation of bear and owl, was a mountain of muscle, fur and feathers, its claws dripping with the blood of the workers. Its size dwarfed even Baldred’s considerable frame by a lot, the disparity in strength painfully obvious. The Dargan, a fearsome beast in its own right, paled in comparison to this monstrous opponent. The battle had been a swift descent into chaos.

Kael, Gerber, and Baldred, relying on superior speed, were the first to break away from the carnage. Their movements were a blur of calculated evasion, their boots pounding the ground as they pushed past the slower, panicked workers.

The Owlbear, unfazed by the three escaping figures, turned its attention to the remaining workers. Its massive paws moved with surprising speed and precision, each strike a brutal symphony of death.

Bones crunched under the weight of its claws, the sounds punctuated by the screams of the unfortunate victims. Chunks of flesh and bone flew through the air, painting the surrounding a gruesome, crimson curtain. One worker, caught in the Owlbear’s grasp, was crushed completely underfoot, becoming little more than a spreading pool of blood and viscera.

Kael weaved through the fleeing workers, his sword ready but unused. He had learned the grim lesson of facing an enemy superior in strength; flight was the only viable option in this situation.

He saw a worker, knocked down but still alive, desperately clawing at the ground, his eyes filled with terror. The Owlbear’s massive head swivelled, its gaze locking onto the injured man. Kael could only continue running.

Baldred, despite his experience and his considerable skill, felt a primal fear grip his heart. His attacks were useless; even his enhanced strength and speed were insufficient to match the Owlbear’s power.

He had faced formidable foes before, but nothing could have prepared him for this. The strength of the creature was unnatural, its ferocity unparalleled. He focused solely on putting distance between himself and the beast.

The air became thinner, heavier with the coppery tang of blood. The sounds of the massacre faded slightly with distance, but not enough to lessen the feeling of dread.

Kael occasionally glanced back to assess their pursuer, his eyes darting to the grim scene behind. The Owlbear was a blur of movement, its shadow stretching long across the ground as it pursued the fleeing workers. The sight was horrifying, a relentless wave of death that swept through the mountains.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep