First the smell, then the buzzing of flies, and finally the sight of dry limbs covered in loose fabric. Brightly colored makeshift shrouds turn corpses into terrifying puppets.

It's a child, I said nonchalantly. They were the second to go after the sick and wounded.

"What about the other one?"

"Yes."

We've been tracking the missing Tri-Rivières for two days now, and I'm running out of patience. Nashoba insisted that we catch up with them, or the shaman who called him for help might have attacked me out of fear. I'm afraid that by the time we find them, there will be no one left to interrogate.

This small part of the Muskogee was evicted from their land by settlers a month ago, and they have been roaming the west ever since. I think my "employer" saw a vision of a terrible beast stalking them and devouring their members. I now believe that's the least of their worries. We encountered no less than ten corpses on our day's trip, all of them showing signs of hunger. The corpses were all husks, and the pain of being devoured was curled up in a ball. I don't envy their fate.

"We... We really should ......."

"One last time, shaman, you can do that on the way back. The longer we drag, the more corpses will come. ”

"He's just a kid."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure adults want to live too. Listen, Nashoba, our pact is that I hunt a monster for you, not dig a mass grave. ”

"Ah, of course. You're right, my emotions affect our work. Maybe there are others alive. ”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I held back. Nashoba was just a mortal, and he didn't at least pull God in, and he didn't tell me about the importance of grief and other empty stuff that suffocated me. I can understand his pain, though I don't empathize.

"Ma'am, we should park the carriage here and continue riding."

"Your Tushka is right. The road is small. ”

Nashoba apparently mastered his tongue through a dream exploration. His flawless Akkadian and broken English are in stark contrast.

"Then you take the horse away."

"There's something in the air, Thorne's daughter. We were almost there, but late. ”

I sniffed and couldn't smell anything but the pine trees, the mountain air, and the stench of rotting corpses. Dalton noticed me and continued:

"It's cold, ma'am, it's unseasonably cold."

"We are in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains. Isn't that normal?"

"No, mistress."

I've noticed that this place is too quiet. It's clear that a magic trick is playing out here, so time is of the essence.

"Then you lead the horse and light the torch. I will scout in front and guide you. Hurry up. ”

We climbed along the curvy path for an hour. Skinny pine trees and dry vegetation along with the occasional corpse make the place desolate and unpleasant to travel. My gut tells me it's unnatural. There are no spells here, and there are no creatures nearby. This effect is more pervasive. It's like an old greasy smell that leaves a greasy taste on my tongue.

Despite the exhaustion of my companions, we had a great time, and when we reached a small plateau, the path finally became clear. Large patches of granite covered with lichens alternate with diseased ferns. The remains of a large camp can be seen in the center of the photo. There was a fire, still smoking, some broken tents, pottery and baskets, and fragments of a loom.

There were no corpses.

I was joined by others who raised my hand in warning.

The bottom of the plateau is quite small. It can accommodate camps of up to a hundred people. The stone plane climbed up on our left and landed abruptly on our right. The few trees are barely able to withstand the cold winds.

Nashoba rode on his mare, Dalton armed himself, and disappeared into the darkness. I followed him by sound until he stopped moving. That is, he found a good position.

I turned to Nashoba, pointed to my nose, and then to the left. I followed the stench of unwashed corpses and rancid sweat to a recess in the rock face. I leaned forward and looked inside.

The light reflected the eyes of a dozen people, huddled in their filthy bed. The fire that is about to be extinguished emits almost no heat. The smell brought tears to my eyes.

Under the disgusting smell, I discovered a mage energy that had become rancid. It's close to Nashoba in nature, but it tastes sour and reminds me of the fallen vampire I killed a week ago. It seems that we have found a shaman. Whether they are still sane is debatable.

Nashoba approached the valley and then backed back in disgust. Maybe I should warn him about that bad musky smell. I am much less affected by it than mortals, both because of my nature and because I don't have to breathe.

The shaman put a scarf around his head and began to speak to the poor group. His inquiry was met with silence at first, then answered by a shriveled woman, wearing a bone ornament on her head, sitting at the back of the crowd. Her gnarled fingers held a cane decorated with a crow's skull, and she spoke in a low, serious voice.

I didn't need to understand to feel the pain and fear in her story. The remaining tribesmen flinched at my gaze, refusing to look up. They feel like they've given up on everything. They are such a pathetic bunch, and I mean, they don't have children anymore.

This tribe is finished. After what they have been through, few people have been able to keep their sanity. Their best way to survive is to split and join others, praying to their gods that they can forget the horrors of their existence.

I don't care.

I waited patiently until my companion finished speaking, and I noticed that luckily the shaman could speak Choctaw. When most of us whites call Aborigines savages, it's easy to forget that Aborigines are made up of several people with their own cultures and dialects. Being a vampire really changed the way I think about it.

After a few minutes, Nashoba walked to the center of the clearing without saying a word and rekindled the fire with a lead and a few dry cloths.

"Forgive me, Thorne's daughter. Can you help me pick up some wood? I ask you to do me a favor. ”

He has no right to demand this, and his specific wording indicates his admission. That being said, Nashoba is one of the few mortals I respect. He was tired and lame.

"Good."

I can be kind to the people I like. I also deduced from his pained expression that the news was not very good and that he might need some time to digest. We finally found the survivors of the tribe and got the knowledge we wanted. A little longer is acceptable.

I collect firewood everywhere and sometimes make firewood. I found it surprisingly easy to cut down the trunks of those dead trees. I don't think I need an axe now. After three trips, Nashoba told me that I had collected enough water and put a large pot on the fire and filled his jug with water.

"If you want to save them, shouldn't we give them rations?"

"Not directly. Those who are hungry have weak stomachs, and eating solid food kills them. Their bodies can only tolerate the broth. ”

"I see. While we wait, you should share what you've learned. ”

"Of course, Thorne's daughter. I've been delayed for too long. They left their land with very little food and soon ran out. They did their best to find food, but it was impossible to feed a population of 70 without knowing the terrain. And it came in the midst of this great tribulation that the beast came. Like a carrion-eating bird circling a bleeding beast, it entangles them. One by one, the hunters disappeared. Of course, tribes began to send people out in pairs or larger groups. Everything was in vain. Then the beast will eat more, and the food situation will deteriorate. First, the weakest members died, and then the children began to die as well. Despair gripped them. The women also started hunting, and some came back with injuries. Some took their own lives. The survivors decide to flee to the mountains, hoping that the beast will give up or that they can at least face it. They lit this fire and waited.

They say the beast is coming. They say it is taller than the tallest man in the world, and wears clothes made of patchwork of animal skins. Its face is like a rock cracked in half, and its teeth are like the canines of a wolf. All. They say that arrows and spears bounce back from it like toys, and that its powerful arms can kill a person with a single swing. They say they can't stop it, just like they can't stop winter. After it had killed enough people, the rest fled to higher ground, and the small group hid there, hoping it would see them, or at least the cave was too small for its massive frame. That was yesterday. ”

"So, the beast is still on it?"

"Yes, if there are survivors, so are they."

"Then I'd better hit the road. Can you fire it?"

"Yes, I'll be right away."

"Is that enough?" It seems that another shaman can't stop it either. ”

"She is old and weakened by hunger, and her tribe has lost land and roads. Her strength has weakened, and it is better to have nothing. I should be able to keep the monster out of the bay before you get back. If I'm in danger, I'll shoot the pistol you lent me into the sky. ”

"For your sake, I hope that's enough."

Before I left, I cautiously made my way to Dalton's hideout and found him hiding himself with a fallen branch. In the dark, he was covered with greenery and was barely visible. I told him not to fight unless he had no other choice and to go up the hill along the path.

I can go faster without humans. The first examination revealed no traces, so the creature may have some way of concealing its presence. This also explains why no hunter can escape. Undeterred, I rushed to the steep slope as fast as I could, without opening myself up. Two minutes later, I was able to find the first body.

It's a man, quite old. Unsurprisingly, its body is covered in bite marks, revealing that its jaws are several times larger than those of humans. The beast devoured the muscles of its legs and arms, its back, and most of its internal organs. I was about to leave when I noticed something strange. There was no defensive wound, and when I pushed its head to the side with my boot, the reason was clear. The man was hit in the head with a blunt object before being eaten. The theory that my monsters were able to hide increased, and I felt the beginning of paranoia when all my senses became sharpest. I even found the rabbit's fur in the hunter's hands, proving that the beast did not leave anything easy to swallow.

A few meters away, I saw a mother and her child still holding hands. They were killed in the same way.

I continued to move quickly, consciously not going in a straight line, and regularly checking in on what was behind me. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, just abandoned personal belongings and a bunch of human footprints. After a few more minutes, I noticed embers glowing in the distance.

The night is silent.

I approached from the side. The remnants of the Horde's last campfires remain in the bushes. There was nothing left, not even a single corpse, but the pungent smell of blood, and after going around in circles, I saw no trace of any further up. The absence of remains worries me a little. What kind of beast can do such a thing?

I cautiously walked forward. The unnatural silence here upsets me. There was no movement except for the bitter cold wind, and even the gray that covered everything was like dyed snow.

A large amount of blood was streaked all over the scene. They are only a few hours old. I was about to go around looking for clues, clues, or something, when I found something in the ashes. I approached curiously.

A branch snapped behind me.

I rolled forward while slicing the ball behind me, just to hit the air. There's nothing to see, which means...

I turned, raised my paws, and was ready.

Or nothing.

I'm round. Or nothing. The sound of a rabbit breathing softly could be heard in the pine forest.

I'm dancing shadows. I'm still moving in the clearing, so if that creature tries to rush at me, I still have some time to react.

This enemy turned out to be troublesome. It can be hidden, and it can be quite strong and resilient. The dagger should be enough to hurt it, I'm confident in my speed, but if I catch off guard, it's useless.

Traces on the dust show traces of mass scuffle. With so many people's feet, what's next to the campfire?

Bone.

Human bones

Hundreds of bones were shattered, and the marrow was sucked dry, as if ......

It seems like......

It's strange and illogical.

Await.

No.

However......

One by one, the hunters disappeared and were taken by surprise.

There is nothing but human footprints.

The remaining tribesmen were slaughtered in one place, not fleeing from a large opponent.

Boiled human bones......

I need to confirm.

I jumped into the bushes looking for a very specific set of footprints, and eventually, I found them. A lot of people walk along this path. Now that I know what I'm looking for, it's easy to notice.

Damn it! Play for a fool! Aaaa

g !

I ran down the hill like all the hounds in hell were following me. Come on, come on, come on. Get me there in time. Let me get there in time......

A gunshot rang out. It wasn't a pistol, it was Dalton's rifle.

I walked faster. My boobs were almost close to the ground, and the wind was blowing and blowing my hair.

With each step, I dug a trench in the loam and flew ten steps forward. Faster. Fast!

I'll be there on time.

I am here. In an instant, I found Nashoba standing in the middle of a magical circle, his pistol thrown on a rock. He is surrounded by cannibals who silently slaughter and devour their loved ones. It seems that they lost their humanity in the process.

Their discarded blankets revealed their skinny white skin and bones. Their tiny flesh is twisted and taut like a tightrope. Their faces down to their upper lip are human, and then it becomes a nightmare. They bared a large mouthful of crooked yellow teeth into my companion's hospital room.

Five of them huddled on the edge of a glittering circle. The shaman of the Three Rivers stands on the edge, still dressed in her rotten kingship. She danced her ominous cane as she jumped and screamed. The seventh abomination was lying prone on the ground with a smoking hole in its torso.

Dalton's masterpiece. He must have shot as they crawled towards the Choctaw.

Time is running out.

I'm running faster than ever. I've got to push them away! Without slowing down, I walked over to the first creature and punched it in the stomach.

With the terrible sound of bones shattering, the thing wrapped around my outstretched hand like a wet towel. Momentum catapulted it to its two diabolical allies, who slammed backwards like pins.

Finally I used all my strength to swing it. The first target's chest vanished into a pool of blood. In a few moments, the head of the fifth creature was gone.

Finally, I shattered the enemy mage's headdress with a silver throwing knife, and black blood splattered out.

Now that's it. I rushed into the bushes with the sharpness of a herd of buffaloes. A second gunshot led me to Dalton. When I arrived, he unloaded the last pistol in front of the last enemy. He must have missed his brain, as the creature lunged at him, claws outstretched.

Oh no, you don't need to.

Insignificant weaklings. Bottom feeder. Scum. How dare you raise your hand against those who belong to me?

I poked two paws into the thing's neck and let out a furious roar that flicked it over my head and its head on its heels.

The creature's brief flight was interrupted by a large rock, its head shattered like an egg, then a tree trunk, and finally a pile of broken things on the ground.

Dalton was fine, just startled by my sudden appearance.

I hurried back to the clearing and pulled out my dagger. Before turning to the enemy shaman, I quickly dealt with two wounded.

It was pressed against the wall of the cliff by Nashoba's staff. Its filthy yellow paws poked into the rocks, and her screams rattled in my ears, but my allies didn't move.

"So, you want to interrogate it?"

"I know everything I need to know. I keep it alive so you can eat. ”

“… Do I have to go?"

It stinks, like a pigsty covered with pox. Nashoba glared at me silently. I guess I shouldn't act like a spoiled child. I can certainly use this power.

I grabbed the thing's arm. It tried to wrestle with me, but compared to the fallen vampire I faced a few days ago, I felt like I was wrestling with a toddler. I'll also break its fingers. Why take the risk?

I took a bite.

I'm so hungry, so hungry. The pain in my stomach was unforgiving. It digs into my guts with jagged fingers. Nothing but the pain of devouring.

I brought them here. I lead them to death, we should stand and fight and die like warriors, not hunted and starved like animals. The children... What did I do? I sent my hallucinations too late. By the time the Croctault Shaman arrived, there would be nothing left of the Tri-Rivers tribe.

Today I ate my fingers. The pain of a severed limb is less than the pain of starvation. It was hot and juicy, although skinny. Now I remember what food was like. I feel like the clarity of thought is fading. There are people like me who have tasted the taste of forbidden meat. I could feel them looking at me and at each other. I don't need to be sane. Sanity is the number one reason I'm here. Drive me crazy. Let me be lost, but most importantly, let me be satisfied.

We were silent. There is no need to speak, just as there is no need to listen to the dying cries of our loved ones. Even though we swallowed piles and piles of meat, we were starving. This is good. Tomorrow we will go down the mountain. There will always be more villages and more hunting parties. Always.

I retreated from the atrophied form of my victim. It's weird, but it's not entirely unpleasant either. It's sour and fragrant, like pickled fish, and the power is good. I think it's on par with experienced mages.

I guess Nashoba was interested in my vision, so I shared it with him, and Dalton joined us.

"Yes, Thorne's daughter. I know what you're talking about. They are called snow monsters. I've heard of a powerful hunter named Anwei the Slayer, who was the first to find them and remove them from this world. I never thought those stories were true......"

Nashoba limped back to a stone and sat wearily. I must remember that they had been gone all day, and it was now past midnight. They will soon need to sleep.

"They are hunger," he continued, "they are what happens when men and women succumb to hunger." Those stories are lazy hunters who will treat the wives of their victims as their own. This is not the case here. The Tri-Rivières perished because they were driven away. They fell because they chose to flee in desperation. ”

The shaman is in a good mood right now, and I respect it. Dalton tied a scarf around his nose and busily piled up

digo while I'm waiting for the fire on the sidelines.

"There will be more people like that. Every month, your boat will spill the people and machines on board the shore. We are being pushed slowly but surely to the west. ”

"Will you fight?"

He scoffed.

"Some of us would. At the very least, they will die standing. Without our own weapons, we cannot deal with the weapons of your people. We need schools, mines, factories and armories to compete, and when we have them all, we will be you. It's an unstoppable trend. ”

Powerless. I know the feeling all too well.

"We achieved something today."

"A drop in the ocean." Those we save may one day join those we have just released. ”

I wish I could join him in his drama when I'm drunk.

"You're too presumptuous, wizard of the Choctaw. We ourselves are droplets. Didn't you say that we were eradicating the root of destruction? That's what we're doing tonight. Don't despair by looking at what you can't change. This only invites madness. ”

"Forgive me if I stand in the ashes of 70 men, women and children and cannot understand your point of view."

I shrugged. I can't share his emotions and I don't want to, but I can respect his grief and give him the time he needs. The hunt is finally over. It's funny, although the "prey" is a disgrace of the same kind.

I helped Dalton build a fire. Thankfully, the material is plentiful. When we lit it, our local companions joined us.

For a while, everything was quiet, and then he began to sing.

I don't understand it, and I don't need to. The song begins with regret and powerless anger, then melancholy, and finally calm. We stayed there and watched the warm breeze blow particles of light into the sky. It doesn't feel so cold anymore. Somewhere below us, an owl was chirping, and the firelight crackled.

At one point, the two fell asleep. I made sure they were all covered, and when it was dawn, I got up and ready to go. I took a step forward, and Nashoba changed the quilt.

"Thank you, Ariana."

I nodded and left.