The incline was steep, forcing them to slow their pace as they climbed. The ground here had shifted from the flat plains to a gentle slope of deep red earth, covered in grass of the same bloody hue. The only other color came from the purple flowers swaying on thin stalks.

  Embedded in the soil were bones. They weren't everywhere, but enough of them jutted out at odd angles to make the path treacherous. Most were about the same height, reaching mid-calf, bleached white and worn down by time.

  Riven stepped carefully between two rib-like shards.

  "Keep your eyes up," Riven said, glancing back at Lya.

  She was navigating the gaps between the bones, her expression unreadable as she looked at the ivory fragments. "I am. It’s just... strange. There aren't any skulls. Just these."

  He reached the top first, his breathing heavy and saturated from the long climb. Lya followed a few paces behind, her footsteps crunching against the red, uneven ground.

  As he scanned the surroundings, his movement stopped. Sprawled in a field of deep purple and crimson flora was a massive carcass, stripped down to a stark, white skeleton.

  The creature was nearly five meters long. Its spine was thick, ending in a long, tapered tail that curled into the dirt. Two large, curved bones—shaped like scythes—jutted from the shoulder area, still sharp despite the decay. The skull was narrow, ending in a heavy, pointed beak that rested against the purple soil.

  The wind hissed as it passed through the empty ribcage, a hollow sound that vibrated through the red field.

  Riven stood there for a moment, looking at the size of the ribs and the length of the limbs. Lya walked up beside him, her eyes widening as she took in the scale of the remains.

  "It's huge," she whispered.

  Riven gave a short nod. "Yeah," he muttered.

  I don't know what that thing is. But fortunately, it's dead.

  They began to walk along the length of the carcass, moving quickly to put the massive skeleton behind them. They kept their eyes fixed on the horizon, choosing to ignore the ivory limbs to avoid dwelling on whatever had once inhabited them.

  After a few minutes of silence, the tension seemed to slip from Lya’s shoulders, and she began to hum a soft, wandering melody.

  But as they descended the slope, the quiet air was interrupted by a loud, insistent growl. Riven’s stomach was twisting, a sharp reminder that it had been far too long since his last meal.

  We’re going to end up starving to death at this rate

  They didn't have a problem with water, but the food was a different story. The barren landscape offered nothing but visual mysteries.

  We can’t go back to where the horde attacked, he thought, looking back over his shoulder at the path they had traveled. It’s too far now.

  He kicked at a clump of the purple flora. And we’re not going to find anything to eat here, are we? Unless dirt and bones suddenly count as food.

  Lya stopped humming. She had clearly heard the growl of his stomach, and the look in her eyes suggested she was sharing the exact same sensation.

  She looked around at the vast, blood-red field, her brow furrowed. "There has to be something," she murmured, though her tone lacked any real conviction. "Everything that lives has to eat something else. Even that monster we just passed."

  Riven processed Lya’s words, and a realization began to take root in his mind—one he didn't particularly like.

  He gritted his teeth, his eyes shifting back toward the hill they had just crested. "The monster... you said..."

  Lya looked at him, slightly confused. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

  He turned and fixed his gaze on her, his expression grim. "Like you said, every living thing has to eat. I don't think that thing back there was eating plants."

  The implication hit Lya instantly. Her voice rose, tinged with worry and a hint of disgust. "Wait—you want us to eat monsters?" The idea clearly didn't sit well with her.

  Riven shrugged, his jaw tight. "I don't think we have any other choice."

  We haven't seen any for a while, he thought.

  Except for the great horde, but they had probably all gathered in one spot.

  "Now that we're in... a sort of new zone, I guess," Riven continued, using the word tentatively as if he were still figuring it out himself, "we should start seeing them again."

  —-

  They kept moving for what felt like an hour, though time was hard to track in the unchanging light. Riven walked with a focused intensity, his eyes scanning every cluster of purple flora and every shadow cast by the black hands. He was hunting, though he felt more like a scavenger.

  Deep down, he was hoping to stumble upon anything other than the creatures from the horde. Instead, he kept his eyes peeled for something smaller and less terrifying. A burrow in the red soil, a flash of movement in the grass, anything that looked even remotely like prey.

  But for now, the landscape remained stubbornly empty.

  The only sound was the constant, dry rustle of the wind sweeping through the landscape. It made the blood-red grass sway in long, rhythmic waves, while the tall violet flowering stems knocked against one another with a faint clicking.

  This rhythmic swaying followed the shape of the land itself. The ground kept rolling in a series of small hills and slopes that rose and fell like waves. Every time they climbed a ridge, the horizon was cut short by the next incline.

  Lya was about to say something. "You know—"

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Riven cut her off, raising his hand sharply. He had frozen in place, his body tense and focused on something hidden by the next rise.

  "Do you hear that?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  Lya strained to listen, tilting her head. "It sounds like..." She paused, closing her eyes to filter out the clicking of the violet stems. "I'm not sure, but it sounds like voices. Or someone speaking."

  Riven didn't wait. He was thinking the same thing.

  They both broke into a run, their boots digging into the loose red earth as they scrambled up the incline of the hill ahead of them.

  Riven reached the top first, his breath ragged and torn by the sudden effort. He stayed low, his brow furrowing deeply as he looked down at what lay on the other side.

  Lya reached his side a few seconds later. Her expression was far more terrified than Riven’s—she instantly pressed a hand over her mouth as if to stifle a scream or a sob.

  The sounds they had heard weren't just voices, but the desperate shouts of a struggle.

  Down in the dip between the hills, a group of three climbers was locked in a brutal fight against two monsters. Riven recognized them immediately—they were far too similar to the nightmares from the horde.

  They were massive, standing nearly two meters tall with sharp, jagged bone protrusions erupted along their spines like a row of broken teeth. At their temples, two thick horns curved forward, framing their snarling maws.

  They looked sickeningly raw. Around their maws and joints, the skin seemed peeled back, exposing deep red, weeping flesh that looked like an open wound. Long, irregular canines jutted from their gums at odd angles, giving them a jagged and terrifying look.

  Riven crouched low to observe the scene, but Lya stood up abruptly, her body trembling. "We have to help them!"

  He lunged out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down toward the earth to keep her hidden. He pinned her there, not with cruelty, but with a desperate firmness. "Are you crazy?" he hissed, his voice harsh and low.

  "We’ll just get ourselves killed if we go down there." He turned his head toward the slaughter below and pointed a finger at the dip between the hills. "Look at them. They’re already as good as dead."

  Down in the dip, the massacre had already begun. One of the climbers was already dead, his body being pinned and torn apart by one of the creatures, which was busy devouring him with sickening crunches.

  The other two were still fighting for their lives against the second beast. One swung a sword with desperate, shaky movements, while the other gripped a heavy axe, trying to keep the massive, raw-fleshed monster at bay. They were exhausted, their weapons clattering against the beast's bone-covered spine, doing little more than prolonging the inevitable.

  Lya didn't answer. A hollow, defeated expression settled on her face as she watched them struggle. the reality turning her stomach.

  Riven whispered, his voice cold and focused, "Close your eyes. You don’t need to see this."

  I can't afford to miss a single second, he thought.

  He narrowed his eyes, concentrating everything he had on analyzing the monsters. If he could find even one weakness, one opening in that nightmare of flesh and bone, it would be the only thing keeping them alive later on.

  Down below, the fight was a desperate mess. Most of the climbers' attacks were either dodged with surprising agility by the creature or simply clattered uselessly against the thick bone protrusions protecting its body.

  The swordsman, fueled by a reckless, suicidal despair, charged forward. He swung his blade frantically, trying to carve into the beast's face. But the creature dug its claws into the red earth and pounced with terrifying speed. It slammed into him, its massive jaws unhinging and clamping down on his midsection. The jagged, irregular canines sank deep into his belly, pinning him like a broken toy.

  Riven heard the climber’s agonizing screams echo against the slopes. Driven by the pain, the man found one last surge of adrenaline; he clung to his weapon and stabbed upward repeatedly, burying his blade deep into the monster's left eye.

  The beast let out a guttural roar of pain, the fluid from its ruptured eye spraying onto the red grass as it thrashed its head.

  At the same time, the second climber, fueled by a desperate rage, charged forward while brandishing his heavy axe.

  He didn't aim for the armored back—instead, he brought the blade down in a massive vertical swing against the creature's hind leg. The heavy edge bit deep, cleaving through the muscle and bone, effectively crippling the beast.

  The monster let out a deafening shriek of agony, collapsing slightly to one side. The climber didn't stop—he let out a roar of his own, hauling the bloodied axe back over his shoulder, preparing for a second, killing blow.

  But he never got the chance.

  The second monster, which had been busy tearing into the corpse of the first fallen climber, suddenly abandoned its meal. With a terrifying burst of speed, it lunged across the red grass, its claws extended. It slammed into the man with the force of a battering ram, pinning him to the ground before he could swing his axe again.

  The struggle was short and brutal. The beast began to mutilate him, its claws and jagged teeth making quick, red work of the last survivor.

  Riven watched every second of it. He didn't blink.

  The silence returned to the rolling hills, broken only by the wet and heavy sounds of the two creatures feeding in the dip below.

  But the dynamic between the monsters changed instantly. The uninjured one suddenly turned on its wounded partner, snarling and snapping its jagged teeth to drive it away. It was claiming the entire meal for itself, forcing the crippled beast to limp several meters away, defeated and hungry.

  They aren't really a pack, Riven thought, his eyes narrowed as he memorized the behavior. They just team up when it’s convenient. Now that the prey is dead, they’re back to being rivals.

  Riven and Lya stayed perfectly still, hunkered down in the red grass. He waited in that heavy, suffocating silence as the creatures finished their grisly meal.

  The first monster, the healthy one, eventually ate its fill. It shook its blood-stained head, let out a low huff, and began to lumber away, disappearing over one of the distant rolling ridges.

  The second beast, which had been waiting its turn like a rejected scavenger, immediately limped forward to pick at the remains. It ate quickly, its movements desperate and frantic as it tore at what was left.

  Once it had scavenged the little that the other had left behind, it finally turned away to leave. It retreated slowly, limping heavily as it crossed the slopes, leaving a trail of dark blood behind it.

  Riven watched the trail of blood until the creature was nothing more than a dark speck in the distance.

  The dip below was now silent. All that remained of the three climbers were scattered bones and torn clothing, stained the same deep crimson as the landscape.

  They descended the slope quickly.

  Lya remained silent, her face pale as she fought the urge to gag. The air in the dip was thick and heavy with the metallic tang of fresh blood and the overwhelming stench of open guts. She kept her eyes averted from the mutilated remains of the climbers, her muscles tight with a lingering tension she couldn't shake.

  Riven, however, moved with a grim purpose. He didn't waste a look on the first two corpses, stepping over the scattered debris of the massacre as he made his way directly toward the fallen swordsman.

  The man lay twisted in the dirt, but his hand was still locked in a death grip around his weapon. Riven reached down and pried the sword from the cold fingers.

  He held it up to the light. The blade was a deep, obsidian black, long and slender, its dark surface shot through with muted iridescent hues of violet. The crossguard flared outward like sharpened wings, elegant and lethal. Despite the carnage, the steel was flawless.

  Riven’s gaze flickered to the heavy axe and the mace abandoned in the grass. He let them lie there—useless, blood-stained weights that neither of them could carry.

  Lya lingered by the bodies for a moment, her hands steady as she closed the eyes of the dead, seeking to soothe the violence of their passing with a final, silent gesture

  He stood up straight, his fingers tightening around the grip of the dark, elegant sword. He turned his gaze toward the horizon, tracking the spatters of dark blood leading away through the hills.

  “That one won’t get far,” he said, turning toward Lya.