The mud on the eastern trade route was thick. It sucked at Renn's heavy boots with every step. The rain had stopped hours ago. A cold wind blew down from the jagged peaks, carrying the sharp scent of wet pine needles and something sweeter. Rot.
Ten miles on foot took them three hours. Illia kept pace. She didn't complain. Her wooden staff clicked rhythmically against the rocks. She used a very subtle application of holy magic to keep the worst of the mud off her boots. Renn noticed. He didn't comment. Practical.
Sometimes the road just disappeared. Washed out completely by the spring storms. They had to scramble over fallen logs and loose shale.
The Black-Ridge Watchtower came into view around a sharp bend. It was an eighty-foot cylinder of gray stone built directly into the side of the mountain. It used to be a toll station. Now it was a slaughterhouse.
Three merchant wagons lay overturned on the dirt road leading up to the tower. The thick oak planks were completely shredded. Huge claw marks dug deep into the wood. The horses were just gone. Only splintered bones, torn leather harnesses, and dried brown stains remained on the gravel.
Renn stopped. He touched a deep gouge in a broken wagon wheel.
"Fresh," he said. The metallic voice distortion from his Bone-Iron mask echoed slightly in the quiet valley.
Illia knelt next to a patch of disturbed earth. "Yesterday," she agreed. "It dragged the bodies up to the nest." She pointed her wooden staff toward the open roof of the stone tower.
A massive shadow detached itself from the top of the tower.
No warning screech. No majestic roar. Just the heavy, rhythmic thud of massive wings beating against the cold air. The wind pressure hit them first. Dust and gravel kicked up into Renn's face. The beast dropped from the sky like a falling boulder.
A lion's lower body, heavy and thickly muscled. An eagle's head and massive wings. But the feathers weren't brown or gray. They were a dark, sickly crimson. Stained with layers of dried blood. The curved beak was the color of black iron.
Rank 3 Blood-Feathered Griffin.
It didn't aim for Renn. It dove straight at Illia. Smart beast. Go for the unarmored target holding a stick.
Renn moved. He didn't draw his sword yet. He stepped directly in front of the girl and raised his left arm. He channeled a surge of his dense earth mana into the silver lining of his new coat.
The obsidian scales woven into the fabric of the sleeve clicked together. They locked tight. The sleeve turned rigid.
The griffin's talons slammed into his forearm.
The kinetic force was massive. Renn's boots dug four inches into the hard dirt. He slid backward a foot. But the talons didn't pierce the fabric. Bright orange sparks flew as the razor-sharp bone scraped violently against the hardened obsidian weave.
The bird shrieked. It sounded like tearing sheet metal. It clearly didn't expect to hit a brick wall disguised as leather.
Renn shoved his arm forward. He threw the heavy beast off balance.
The griffin flapped its massive wings, trying to gain altitude again. It wanted to do another dive. Renn wasn't going to let it fly.
He compressed the heavy earth mana and the volatile wind mana deep into his leg muscles. He injected the dark purple Abyssal energy from his core as the catalyst. The pain flared instantly in his calves. Hot and sharp, like driving nails into the muscle fibers. He ignored it.
He detonated the mana.
*Abyssal Step.*
A loud boom echoed across the valley. The ground beneath Renn's feet literally cratered. A concussive shockwave of dirt and loose stones blasted outward in a ten-foot radius.
He vanished from his spot.
The speed was violent. He crossed the twenty feet between them in a fraction of a second. He appeared directly above the griffin, mid-air.
He drew the Void-Fang Cleaver. The jagged purple-and-black blade hissed as it left the makeshift sheath. He brought it down with both hands, using the momentum of his fall.
The heavy blade bit deep into the griffin's right wing joint. Bone snapped loudly. Hot blood sprayed across Renn's iron mask.
The beast let out a deafening screech of pure agony. The right wing crumpled. They both crashed heavily into the dirt road.
The beast thrashed violently. It whipped its heavy lion tail, catching Renn squarely in the ribs. The Obsidian-Weave Mantle absorbed the worst of the blunt force trauma, but the sheer impact still threw him back five feet. He rolled and dug his boots into the mud to stop his momentum.
The griffin scrambled to its feet. Its right wing dragged uselessly on the ground, leaking dark blood. It opened its black beak wide. Green wind mana gathered rapidly in its throat. The air distorted around its head. A compressed air bullet.
At this range, it would punch a hole straight through a brick wall.
"Renn! The eyes!" Illia shouted from behind a broken wagon.
She didn't hide. She stepped out into the open and slammed the base of her wooden staff into the ground. A blinding flash of pure, concentrated golden light erupted from the tip of the wood. Not a healing spell. A localized flare prayer.
The griffin's highly sensitive eagle eyes took the full brunt of the sudden holy light.
It shrieked and flailed blindly, violently shaking its heavy head. The compressed air bullet fired wide. It slammed into a nearby boulder, completely obliterating the solid rock into a cloud of gray dust and shrapnel.
Renn didn't miss the opening.
He activated *Abyssal Step* again. Another concussive blast cratered the dirt. He launched forward, staying low to the ground this time. He slid under the blindly snapping beak.
He drove the Void-Fang Cleaver upward. Straight into the beast's exposed chest cavity.
He twisted the hilt. The Abyssal rot embedded in the blade instantly flooded the wound. The dark purple energy rapidly blackened the heart and lungs.
The massive beast stiffened rigidly for exactly one second. Then it collapsed. The heavy body hit the dirt with a dull thud. Dead.
Silence returned to the mountain pass. The wind howled through the ruined wagons.
Renn stood up. He wiped the thick beast blood off his blade using the griffin's crimson feathers. He sheathed the cleaver. He knelt by the chest cavity. He dug his metal-clad fingers into the rotting flesh and pulled out a fist-sized crystal. It pulsed with violent green wind mana. A Rank 3 beast core. Highly valuable on the black market.
Illia walked past the dead beast. She didn't even look at the gore. She headed straight for the base of the stone watchtower.
A small patch of jagged red weeds grew near the foundation. They were rooted directly in the blood-soaked soil from the griffin's previous victims. She carefully dug out a single, glowing orange root with her fingers. She wrapped it in a piece of clean linen cloth and tucked it into her leather pouch. 地基附近长着一小片参差不齐的红色杂草.它们直接扎根于狮鹫先前受害者的鲜血浸透的土壤中.她小心翼翼地用手指挖出了一根发着橙色光芒的根.她用一块干净的亚麻布把它包起来,塞进她的皮袋里.
"Got it," she said. Her breathing was a bit heavy. The light flare took a lot of mana out of her. "明白了,"她说.她的呼吸有些粗重.光焰夺走了她大量的魔力.
Renn hooked the beast core to his belt. He looked down the ruined dirt road, facing the direction of the capital city. 雷恩将兽核挂在腰带上.他顺着破败的土路,望向京城的方向.
"We take the griffin's head back to town. The local lord will pay the bounty," Renn said. "Then we wait for the nobles in the Silver Citadel to hear the name." "我们把狮鹫的头带回城镇.当地领主会支付赏金."雷恩说道. "那我们就等白银城堡里的贵族们听到这个名字吧."
He walked over to the dead beast. He grabbed the heavy black beak with both hands and began dragging the massive carcass toward the nearest intact wagon bed. 他走到那头死去的野兽面前.他用双手抓住那沉重的黑色喙,开始将巨大的尸体拖向最近的完好无损的马车床.
"Help me lift this," Renn ordered. "We need a cart to haul it back.""帮我抬起这个,"雷恩命令道. "我们需要一辆手推车来把它拖回来."