As Volk approached the looming rock mountain, his crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation.

The terrain ahead was a jagged colossus, its uneven cliffs stretching into the sky like the broken teeth of a fallen giant.

The ground beneath him shifted with loose gravel, and the air grew cooler as the shadow of the mountain enveloped him.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his chest as he slowed his pace, surveying the terrain with the sharp precision of a predator.

“This,” he muttered to himself, his voice deep and filled with approval, “is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

He stopped to place a massive hand on the rough surface of the mountain.

The stone was solid and cold, unyielding to his touch.

His gauntleted fingers scraped against it, producing a faint metallic screech as he traced the potential lines of destruction.

“A natural fortress,” Volk said, stepping back to take in the full view. “No cavalry in their right mind would want to charge up a slope like this. Too steep, too unstable. Their horses would panic, their formation would crumble, and they’d be nothing but sitting ducks.”

His gaze roamed higher, spotting loose boulders scattered across the cliffs like ammunition waiting to be used.

“And these,” he said with a smirk, gesturing toward the boulders, “are just begging to be put to work. I can roll them down, one after another, like giant bullets. Let’s see how those tin-can knights deal with rocks the size of wagons!”

He crouched down and scooped up a handful of loose gravel, letting it fall through his fingers.

“Even this,” he mused, “could work in my favor. A single landslide, and I could bury half of them alive. They’d never even see it coming.”

Volk rose to his full height, his mind spinning with possibilities.

“But why stop there?” he continued, pacing along the base of the mountain. “I could collapse the whole damn thing if I wanted to. Just one good strike from the gauntlet in the right spot, and the entire side would come crashing down. Let’s see their cavalry charge through an avalanche.”

He laughed at the thought, a deep, guttural sound that echoed through the quiet air.

“And if they do somehow make it up here,” Volk said, turning his gaze to the narrow paths and jagged cliffs, “they’ll be forced to come at me one by one. No room for their precious formations, no chance to flank me. Just me and them, face to face. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

He clenched his gauntleted fist, the metallic green surface shimmering faintly as it responded to his excitement.

“I could even use the gauntlet to tear chunks of rock out of the mountain,” he added, flexing his fingers. “Turn them into weapons. Boulders, spikes, walls—anything I need. This place is a playground, and they’re the toys.”

Volk paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he admired the sheer scale of the mountain.

“They won’t know what hit them,” he said, his voice low and almost reverent. “This mountain isn’t just my battleground—it’s my ally. Together, we’ll crush them.”

With a sudden burst of energy, Volk broke into a run, his massive frame barreling toward the mountain. His heavy steps sent small rocks skittering ahead of him, and his deep laughter echoed through the valley as he charged forward.

“This is going to be fun!” he roared, his voice filled with savage glee.

As he reached the base of the mountain, Volk began to climb, his gauntlet sinking into the rock like a claw. Each pull and step was deliberate, his massive body moving with surprising agility. This was his stage, and he was ready to put on a show.

…

Baron Geisler and his cavalry of knights arrived at the scene with a tense, calculated air.

The clearing where the massive humanoid had once stood was a chaotic mess of churned earth, scattered debris, and faint impressions of enormous footprints.

The faint light of the afternoon sun cast long shadows over the landscape, painting an ominous picture of destruction.

Geisler dismounted his horse with practiced ease, his steel-clad boots hitting the ground with a solid thud.

He surveyed the area with sharp, unrelenting eyes, his cold expression betraying none of the simmering anger that burned beneath the surface.

The knights behind him dismounted as well, their armor clinking as they spread out, scanning the terrain.

“Report,” Geisler commanded, his voice like a blade cutting through the stillness.

One of the knights stepped forward, his helmet tucked under his arm. “My lord, the tracks are fresh. The creature moved with considerable speed, and its weight left deep impressions in the soil.”

Geisler nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground. He crouched to examine the marks, his gloved fingers tracing the edges of one of the footprints.

“Humanoid,” he muttered to himself, “but far larger than anything natural. This is no mere beast. This is a creature of war, a weapon.”

Another knight approached, gesturing toward the surrounding terrain.

“My lord, the tracks seem to diverge in multiple directions. It’s unclear which path the creature took. There are signs leading toward the forested area, others toward the rock mountain, and faint indications of movement near the underground cave system.”

Geisler rose to his full height, his cape billowing slightly in the breeze. He turned to face his men, his expression unreadable.

“Three paths,” he said, his tone measured. “And no clear indication of which it chose. We must decide carefully. A mistake here could cost us precious time—and more importantly, our target.”

The knights exchanged uneasy glances. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on all of them.

“The forested area,” one knight suggested, stepping forward. “It offers cover and concealment. If the creature sought to evade us, the forest would be the most logical choice.”

“But my lord,” another interrupted, pointing toward the rock mountain, “the forest may be a trap. It’s too easy for such a large creature to hide there, yes, but also too easy for it to ambush us. The rock mountain, however, provides high ground. If it intended to fortify itself or prepare for an attack, that would be the ideal location.”

“And the underground cave?” a third knight chimed in. “If the creature sought to disappear entirely, there’s no better place. The caves are vast, twisting, and dark. A creature of this size could vanish into the depths, and we’d never find it.”

The debate grew louder as more knights joined in, each presenting their reasoning.

“The forest would allow it to outmaneuver us!”

“But the rock mountain is a natural fortress—it would be foolish to ignore it!”

“The caves are treacherous; we could lose men just searching for it!”

Geisler listened in silence, his piercing gaze shifting between the arguing knights. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, his fingers drumming rhythmically as he considered their points.

Finally, he raised a hand, and the knights fell silent immediately.

“This creature,” he began, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of menace, “is not merely fleeing. It is thinking, planning. Its actions are deliberate. We must assume it has chosen the terrain that best suits its needs—terrain that offers both defense and offense.”

He turned to the knight who had suggested the forest. “The forest is indeed an excellent place to evade us. But it is also flammable. If it thought we would pursue it there, it would know we could easily destroy its cover with fire. It would not risk such vulnerability.”

He shifted his gaze to the knight advocating for the caves. “The underground cave system offers concealment, yes. But this creature has proven it is bold. To retreat into darkness is the act of prey, not a predator. This is not a creature that hides.”

Finally, he gestured toward the rock mountain. “The mountain is the answer. High ground, natural defenses, and abundant ammunition. From there, it could face us head-on while turning the terrain against us. It is the only logical choice.”

The knights nodded, murmuring their agreement.

“Then the mountain it is,” Geisler declared, his tone resolute.

But as they began to prepare for their march, a low rumble echoed through the air. The ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, and small stones began to dislodge from the direction of the mountain.

The knights froze, their hands instinctively going to their weapons.

“What was that?” one of them whispered, his voice tinged with unease.

The rumble grew louder, more insistent, like the growl of an enormous beast.

Geisler’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward the mountain. “It seems,” he said coldly, “that our prey is not content to wait for us.”

With a sharp motion, he drew his sword and pointed it toward the mountain. “Knights! Forward! The hunt continues!”

The cavalry roared in unison, their voices a blend of fear and determination, as they began their march toward the rumbling mountain.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep