The aftermath of the hunt weighed heavily on the party, but the echoes of their battle with Ravagerak still lingered in their minds. Even though the beast lay silent and lifeless, the memory of its amber eyes and thunderous roars seemed etched into the very air of Ravenshire. Every villager who had watched the hunters drag its massive carcass back whispered of it as if it were a nightmare made flesh.
Inside the workshop, the steady crackle of the forge fire mixed with the soft sound of fabric being torn into strips. Grandma Mel sat Hunnt down firmly on a stool, her sharp eyes glaring at him as though sheer disapproval might make his wounds heal faster.
"You stubborn boy," she scolded gently, her hands working with the precision of someone who had tended injuries her whole life. She cleaned the dried blood clinging to his knuckles before winding clean linen tightly around them. Her brow furrowed as she tied the knot. "If you keep forcing your fists like this, they may never heal properly."
Hunnt winced as the bandage pulled taut, but he didn't flinch away. His gaze was steady, his jaw set. "I can't rest, Grandma. I need to help with the preparations. That thing we fought… it won't be the last."
Mel's shoulders sagged as she looked at him. For all his youth, there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes, the same fire she had once seen in Dom's when he was a young man. She muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "Just like your grandfather… too much steel in your heart." Still, she smoothed the bandage with her palm, gentler now. "If you insist on this path, then at least take care. Even the strongest steel breaks when struck too often."
Hunnt gave her a small nod, though his fists remained clenched tightly against his knees.
---
Outside, the courtyard buzzed with tension. The massive body of Ravagerak lay sprawled across thick planks and reinforced beams, far too heavy to move inside. Even in death, its jagged scales seemed to drink in the torchlight, casting harsh shadows that danced across the faces of the gathered villagers. Children peeked from behind their parents' legs, some crying, others staring with wide-eyed fascination.
Dom, the village chief, stood near its head, arms crossed as his weathered gaze examined the beast. Coerl was crouched by its flank, fingers tracing the layers of scales with the precision of a master craftsman.
"These scales…" Coerl muttered, running his fingers along the jagged plates. "Dense, layered, far tougher than anything I've seen. This isn't just an apex—it's a variant. A breed adapted for war, for survival against things even more dangerous than itself." He frowned deeply, wiping grime from his hands. "Who knows how many years it took to become this."
Dom's expression hardened, his hand stroking his beard. "I've lived many years, but never have I seen such a beast. If more like it appear…" He trailed off, unwilling to finish, but the weight of his words hung in the air like a storm cloud. The villagers around them whispered louder, fear and awe rippling through the crowd.
Elara stood nearby, bow slung across her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the hulking form. Her chest tightened with the memory of her arrows bouncing uselessly off its hide. "My arrows barely left a scratch," she admitted quietly, frustration curling in her voice. "It was like shooting at stone…" Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "Next time, I won't be so useless. I'll train harder—sharper shots, a stronger bow."
Corwin's voice rumbled behind her, steady as ever. He leaned his hammer against his shoulder, his dark eyes watching her closely. "Don't say you were useless. You gave us the openings we needed. Without those distractions, Hunnt and I wouldn't have lasted."
Elara blinked, surprised at the weight of his reassurance. A warmth spread in her chest, though her cheeks flushed red. She gave a small nod, lowering her gaze but grateful all the same.
---
With torches lit, the party and Coerl began the grim work of harvesting Ravagerak's remains. Blades scraped against hide, every cut reminding them just how durable the monster had been in life. Even in death, the resistance of its scales strained their tools.
"These claws alone could tear through steel," Coerl observed as he pried one free, its serrated edge glinting sharply under torchlight. He hefted it carefully, the sheer weight of it forcing him to adjust his grip. "And the minerals infused in its hide… rare. I've never seen veins like these running through a wyvern before. They'll serve well for weapons or armor, though it will test even my forge."
Hunnt knelt near the tail, carefully sawing free the massive spikes. His wrapped hands ached with every pull, but he didn't falter. Stronger hands… tougher than this hide, he thought, the memory of his gauntlet shattering flashing through his mind. Next time, I can't afford to break.
Corwin lifted one of the larger scale plates, running a thumb along its jagged edge. His mind already turned toward reforging his hammer, imagining the reinforcement such material could provide. "With this, my strikes will land harder. Even if another like it appears, we'll be ready."
Elara lingered by the pile of scales, her eyes gleaming with thought. "Arrowheads crafted from these… they'd pierce anything," she murmured. Her fingers traced one shard, sharp enough to cut even through leather. "Next time, my shots won't just be distractions."
Each of them, in their own way, carried the same determination—the hunger to grow stronger.
---
Night crept in, casting a heavy quiet over the village. The carcass of Ravagerak remained under guard, torches circling it like a ring of watchful eyes. Villagers huddled in groups, murmuring about what the beast's appearance meant for the future. Some spoke of omens, others of curses.
The unease deepened when a lone messenger stumbled into the courtyard, his clothes streaked with dirt and sweat. He collapsed to one knee, panting hard.
"Tremors!" he gasped, clutching at his chest. "The mountains… they're shaking! Something's stirring up there!"
A ripple of alarm swept through the villagers. Mothers clutched their children tighter, men exchanged wary glances. Even the guards by the Ravagerak stiffened, their grips tightening on spears.
Dom's expression darkened, his voice carrying across the courtyard with heavy authority. "First this Ravagerak… now tremors in the mountains? The land itself may be changing."
The words struck the villagers harder than any roar. The whispers turned fearful, and all eyes turned toward Hunnt and his companions—the hunters who had slain the beast.
Hunnt stood at the edge of the courtyard, his fists wrapped in clean bandages that still throbbed with pain. He clenched them anyway, his gaze fixed on the dark outline of the mountains beyond the village. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, but his eyes burned with resolve.
If this is only the beginning… then we'll be ready.
Corwin set his hammer down beside him, his stance steady as stone. Elara gripped her bow tighter, her lips pressed in a thin line, no longer doubting her role. Pyro leapt lightly onto Hunnt's shoulder, golden eyes glinting with both mischief and unwavering trust.
The night fell silent, heavy with promise. New battles loomed, and Ravenshire's hunters would have no choice but to rise and face them.
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✨ Hi amazing readers! ✨
I'm beyond excited to share not just one, but two epic stories with you!
📖 Final Fantasy: The Unwritten
Step into the vast multiverse of Final Fantasy—where heroes, destinies, and untold adventures intertwine in ways you've never seen before.
⚔️ Renegade: Arsenal of War
Follow the journey of a relentless tech soldier who forges groundbreaking weapons to end the war once and for all.
Your support means the world to me—every read, comment, and share helps bring these stories to life. 🌌🔥 Together, let's explore the unwritten and fight through the arsenal of war!
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