The screams of humans and the roars of beasts blended into one, forming a hellish chorus that tore through the village sky. The muddy roads that had been flooded only with rainwater now ran thick with crimson blood, streaming into shallow trenches, mingling with flesh and scattered limbs.

A black wolf lunged at an old man who was trying to flee with his walking stick. One bite, and its jaws crushed the brittle bones. The man fell, his face buried in mud, legs dragged backward, his body pulled into the darkness while he still shrieked, calling his wife’s name.

Not far away, a middle-aged woman tried to shield two small children with her own body. She clutched them tight, screaming hysterically, but it was useless. A stray dog leapt, sinking its teeth into her neck, while from the side a lynx the size of a grown man pounced on the children, pinning them down with its claws. Their piercing cries lasted only moments before vanishing into the beasts’ roars.

Village houses were forced open. Those who tried to hide were dragged out by muzzles tearing at doors, wooden walls splintering under massive bodies. A young man fought back with a machete, slashing the neck of one wolf, but seconds later three more slammed into him at once. The sound of the blade clattering to the ground, the snap of bones, and then silence swallowed by chewing.

“This… this is all karma!” an old man screamed hysterically as he ran, his face soaked in another’s blood. “We let that woman be burned alive! God has cursed us all!”

His cry ended abruptly. A black bear tore through a bamboo fence, swiping with one paw. His body split, entrails spilling across the ground, intestines dangling slick with rain.

Elsewhere in the village, a young mother ran with her baby in her arms. Her breath came ragged, her child’s wails pierced the storm. She searched desperately for safety, but the wolf was faster. Its jaws snapped shut, snatching the infant from her arms, tearing it apart like a rag doll. The mother screamed madly, her body trembling, before collapsing to her knees in the mud, hands empty. There was nothing left to save.

A few villagers still tried to hold their ground in the square, carrying torches and makeshift weapons. They formed a circle, bracing to fight. But the flood of beasts was too many. Torches fell, extinguished by rain and blood. One by one they fell, heads severed, bodies ripped apart, their screams swallowed by the dark.

“I told you! This… this is because that cursed woman died!” a woman cried hoarsely from a window before being devoured by a hunchbacked tiger that crashed inside.

Her words echoed, mingling with sobs, curses, prayers, and shrieks.

Karma. Curse.

The two words swirled through the air, no one knowing which was true. What was certain was that human blood kept flowing, rain not heavy enough to wash it away, and that evening the village became an open grave.

.

.

.

That same evening, the sky filled once more with the sound of wings and a distant rumble. Riven, struggling to stand after the bear’s attack, heard the pounding of wild steps striking the earth. The tremors shook down to his bones. He forced his head to turn, and that was when he saw them.

Another horde, even larger.

Beasts poured from behind the trees and brush, first one, then dozens, then hundreds.

They came in every shape and size: stags with broken antlers, wolves with blood-red eyes, wild horses with terror glaring in their pupils, and creatures unknown, their bodies half burned, half covered in scales. Their breaths rasped heavy, eyes wild.

Some of them ran in panic, fleeing, ignoring Riven and the few villagers still alive as if something behind them was far more terrifying, something that would chase them down the moment they stopped.

But not all of them.

A dozen wolves stared straight at him, eyes gleaming with hunger. Their fangs long, their mouths dripping with saliva and blood, they crept in a circle, step by step.

All of them leapt almost at once. Their claws pounded the earth, their roars exploded into the air, closing in like walls of terror that crushed the space around Riven.

He searched for an opening, his eyes darting wildly. But his body had reached its limit. The gaping wounds across his chest and shoulders made every breath feel like knives stabbing deeper. Blood seeped endlessly from the shredded remains of his clothes. His head spun, the world tilted, his body staggered.

At the final moment, Riven collapsed. His knees slammed into the mud, Riftmaker nearly slipping from his hand. His vision blurred.

Is this… the end…?

His little sister’s face surfaced in his mind—Melly, with her gentle smile, her innocent gaze that always soothed him. He forced his breath, clinging to consciousness. Hot blood dripped from his temple, mixing with the rain.

His grip on Riftmaker tightened, though his fingers trembled violently. The fire in his chest burned like coals consuming him from within, begging him to give in. But he refused to close his eyes. He kept them open, blurred and stinging, to face whatever was coming.

And then—

The air shook.

Not wind. Not quake. But as if something had torn through space itself.

In an instant, the world before him exploded.

“—!!”

The wolves, inches away from tearing him apart, burst into pieces. Without warning. Without incantation. Their bodies detonated together, turning into red mist, blood, and flesh that rained through the air.

BLOOSH!

A storm of gore splattered down like blackened rain. Chunks of flesh slammed into the ground around Riven, splashing mud, some striking his shoulders, sliding across his face.

The blast echoed, sharp and bone-deep, then slowly faded, replaced by… absolute silence.

Riven froze. His body still shook, one knee buried in the sodden earth, breath ragged. Riftmaker dangled weakly in his left hand, its blade trembling, nearly falling.

His eyes stared wide and hollow, fixed on the spot where the last wolf had leapt. Now there was nothing left but a pool of blood and a pair of claws flung far away.

“What…” he rasped, the word barely audible.

His chest rose and fell quickly, not just from exhaustion but shock. He could not comprehend what had just happened.

He tilted his head back, staring at the darkening sky. Heavy clouds hung low, as if sealing away all answers. Around him, silence reigned. No wolves remained. No breath. Only the suffocating stench of fresh blood and the bitterness clinging to his throat.

Something… or someone had saved him.

But who?

And why?

Unnoticed by Riven, a shadow stirred from the darkness. Almost soundless, as if born from the cold air itself. Ashtoria stood at his side, her long red hair drenched, her crimson eyes dimly glowing, untouched by the chaos of the slaughter.

In her arms, she carried Melly.

The girl slept peacefully, her face calm, her breaths steady—utterly at odds with the nightmare that had swallowed the village.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep