Surprise Outbreak

True enough, Duna led me around the mountain range, through the rocky ledges onto the top. It ứa natural — one look at the shoddy boats floating for their lives and I could tell that they weren’t made for the high-class or nobles around, assuming that this society worked the same way as Drought.

“Speaking of which,” I asked. “Where did you guys get the wood from? I can’t see any trees here.”

“That’s because there isn’t,” shrugged Duna. “Chopped them all down, obviously. They needed the materials, and growing these is tough, y’know. Pretty much as soon as one set of boats are done, they’d have to plant another round, and it would take, well, how many years to grow back a batch.”

“I’m surprised they can even grow at all in this kind of terrain,” I stomped a few rounds on the ground for demonstration. Truth be told, calling it “ground” was already a stretch — we were on a rocky mountain after all. It was almost as if all the surface was just rock; I couldn’t even imagine how deep the people here would have to dig in order to reach “ground”.

“Also, doesn’t wood rot?”

“Yeah. Your point?”

I didn’t ask further. How many citizens had already perished in this perpetual rain, I could only count so high. Even taking into account that they might have some “magic wood” or something that had similar long-lasting properties, I doubt that it was something anyone could just learn. Just look at the Drought army — all of its soldiers were still the classic infantry or cavalry forces, save for its elite Stigma warriors… Deliverers, they called themselves?

I let out a snort. I hadn’t even left for that long, and I had already forgotten about it. They really only meant so little to me.

“Amused, I see?” Duna, seeing my expression, asked. “Sick bastard.”

“Like you’re the paragon of moral yourself,” I shrugged. “And besides, it’s another thing that I laughed at.”

“Well, you do you, kid. Oh, and I suggest that you stay away for now.”

“Huh?”

“We got company.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a flash of unnatural, bright green light lit up the cloudy sky. There was no booming sound, nor was there any other sign of anything. Just a flash of light coming from a house on the slope, and that was it. But looking at Duna’s face, I didn’t think that he was joking.

And soon enough, my doubt was solved.

A deafening roar echoed through the area, large enough to send rubbles rolling down the slope. It was an odd mix of a bull’s cry and an elephant’s blow, but one thing for sure — even thunder and rain couldn’t drown out this distinctive noise.

“What was that?”

“I’m not sure,” it was an answer that I did not anticipate from the man.

“Wait, what do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I mean what I mean,” Duna could only shrug. “Who the hell can tell what monster from what?”

So my guess was right… in a sense. I could figure out that the cry was from a monster, but what surprised me… was the fact we weren’t in Drought.

This was Drizzle, the land where the monsters were presumably summoned and used as tools of war. There wouldn’t be any issue with hearing monster noises from Drizzle, but clearly this wasn’t their monster.

It was wild, uncontrolled and untamed. That could only be the explanation judging from Duna’s words and expressions.

“Do you people not put your own summons on a leash or something?” I asked. It technically wasn’t a confirmed thing, but there was no risk going on the offensive.

“Of course we do. Just, you know… sometimes things slip out of control. This place is as infested as Drought on that front.” Duna answered.

“How you people managed to make these your army is beyond me.”

“It’s simpler than you expected, to be honest. Indra did most of the work, and all we had to do was point around after her… Anyway, get behind me, it’s here.”

At the same time of his announcement, a giant something hit the ground — the rain and darkness in general already made it hard to distinguish, but its black color didn’t help at all. One thing I could confirm was that it was huge; so much that the sheer weight of the impact was enough to send seismic waves to our positions, rocking our stance to the point of making both me and Duna stagger on our feet. When the dust settled, emerging from the scene was a creature larger than both of our combined heights, with two large bull horns on its head, but an elephant’s trunk on its face. Its skin was rugged and wrinkly, but it only made observing it harder in this kind of weather, and of course, the main difference between it and the animals it bore resemblance to was its straightened-up stance and the ivory curved sword in its humanoid hand.

“Ah, I hate when it’s one of these…” Duna scratched his head in frustration, raising his arm forward to reveal his tattoo. “Unleashed.”

Immediately, the man before me was no more. A flash of blue light blinded my eyes for a second, before emerging from the chant came his armored form with four arms. Now that I had the chance to take a closer look at it, the form was indeed more of a mix between monster and armor, rather than just a pure set of protective clothing like Arja’s, but unlike mine where my own body parts became the armor either.

Instead, Duna’s transformation was as if he had transformed into a monster, but said monster was added armor to wear outside itself, while the clothing wasn’t enough to hide its, well, monstrous, features.

However, what surprised me the most was the way he transformed, rather than the transformation itself.

“Since when can you…”

“Shorten my chant?” The man asked back before I could finish my question. “Oh, please, it’s not like that’s a hard technique to learn. Brats like Arja are so hung up on their whole ‘traditions’ and ‘values’ that they never bothered to think about what the chant actually meant.”

“No, I think they do. They just respected it too much to shorten it… unlike you.”

“Blame yourself for teaching me that, kid.” I could hear the man’s light chuckle behind his mask.

“Don’t oversell yourself,” I scoffed in return.

“Well, just shut up and watch for once,” even if he was a sleazebag, the confidence he exuded was the real deal. “Who knows? You might be surprised.”