Path of Dragons

Book 4: Chapter 64: The Hunt

Book 4: Chapter 64: The Hunt

Elijah awoke to a wet nose in his face. For a brief instant, he panicked. Suddenly, the instincts he’d developed living in the wilderness and running towers came to the fore, and he scrambled backwards through the hay that had been his bed for the night. As he did so, his ethera swirled with Soothe, the preemptive cast having become a necessary habit. However, after only a moment, he realized that he was in no danger.

The horse cocked its head to the side, looking at him like he’d grown horns.

Elijah let out a nervous chuckle. The black stallion was a beautiful animal, though it differed from most horses he’d ever seen. That was characteristic of the Mongolian breed. They were stocky compared to other equine variants, and rarely exceeded five feet in height. The breed was interesting in that it had largely remained unchanged since the time of Genghis Khan, when they had enabled the Mongolian hordes to conquer much of the known world.

During the previous day, Elijah had learned that part of the reason the city of Khotont was so crowded was that they’d had to make room for vast herds of horses. Normally, Mongolian horses were left outdoors, where they were expected to fend for themselves – within reason, at least. But with the stampeding boar trampling everything in its path, the residents had brought their valuable herds within the city’s walls, constructing large paddocks and stables to house them.

That was lucky for Elijah, because otherwise, he’d have been forced to bed down under the stars. It was not a new experience for him, but he’d been looking forward to getting out of the weather, which had turned to snow and biting wind. With his Cloak of the Iron Bear, the cold didn’t bother him – in fact, he’d gained a couple of attribute points due to the ability attached to it – but the wet was annoying.

In any case, he hadn’t expected to wake up with a snout in his face.

He reached out, laying his hand on the animal’s nose. It accepted his touch without issue, and Elijah felt the beast’s strength at his fingertips. He’d known since entering Khotont that the horses were no ordinary creatures. They’d progressed quite a lot, with many reaching levels high enough that they would have been on the power rankings if they’d been human.

Or that was what his senses told him. In truth, Elijah wasn’t even sure if beasts had levels. Logic suggested they did, but non-sapient creatures could have completely different systems of progression than their sapient counterparts. Not that it really mattered. Power was power, regardless of how it was quantified, and these horses definitely had plenty.

The people of the steppes – who were mostly Mongolian, but included a few African and South American settlements as well – depended on the horses for so much. They not only used them for battle, transportation, and as beasts of burden, but they also milked the mares and, at times, slaughtered them for their meat. The entire Mongolian culture had once revolved around horses, and the touch of the World Tree – or more appropriately, the decline in modernity that came with it – had brought the creatures back to prominence.

Elijah couldn’t help but wonder if there were classes that revolved around having a companion beast. Did the horses have any say in the matter? Or would such a bond be forced upon them? The stallion that woken him up didn’t seem unhappy, but Elijah couldn’t be certain if that was the result of the creature’s actual feelings or whether it was a state forced upon the beast by the system.

Maybe it didn’t really matter when dealing with non-sapient animals.

Elijah sighed. No – it definitely mattered. His instincts told him that much. The only real question was whether he’d let those feelings influence him. That was the danger of his attunement, especially considering that he kept One with Nature active at all times. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wonder if his emotions were his or if he’d been influenced by an outside force he didn’t truly understand.

Nerthus had referred to it as the Mother, warning against letting the Call overwhelm him. At the time, Elijah had resisted, giving himself a false sense of security. However, since then, he’d learned that he’d only managed to overcome the first wave. Now, the Call was more subtle but no less dangerous, and Elijah needed to be cognizant of the danger it posed to his personality.

Being around people helped with that.

Or culprits.

There were dozens of people on horseback, each one armed with bows or spears. The mounted archers kept up a steady stream of arrows as they raced across the grassland, while the spearmen sliced toward their prey like lancers. It was an impressive display of horsemanship and skill, but Elijah only barely noticed. Instead, his attention was on the creature that had drawn their ire.

In the city, Elijah had heard that the monster was a boar the size of an elephant. However, those rumors paled before reality. The creature was a wild pig, with short, bristly fur and sharp tusks, but the reported size was clearly the result of an obvious underestimation.

The thing wasn’t the size of an elephant.

Instead, it was larger even than the extinct wooly mammoths. Perhaps even twice their size. The distance obscured exact measurements, but based on the comparison between the horses and the creature in question, he estimated that it was at least twenty feet at the shoulder. Maybe even a little bigger.

For a long few moments, Elijah just stared at the scene, and he only broke out of his reverie when the great boar swept its head to the side, connecting with a hunter who failed to react in time. The nimble horse attempted to dance aside, but it was too slow. The larger beast’s enormous tusk pierced its side before the momentum of its attack sent the smaller animal – and its rider – rocketing away to tumble across the prairie.

It was too much to hope either man or animal had survived.

To their credit, the hunters didn’t panic. Instead, they encircled the creature, continuing to pepper it with attacks that, from Elijah’s perspective, did almost no good. Arrows glanced off of its hide, and even the spears – which had the momentum of a horseman’s charge behind them – failed to do any damage. The beast snorted and bucked, never slowing its charge.

When it drew closer, Elijah saw that the boar was even larger than he’d first thought. More, its wild, shaggy hide glistened with ethera, and its tusks gleamed with a deadly aura. Foam spewed forth from its gaping maw, and its beady eyes twitched with terror and madness.

That was all Elijah saw before disaster once again struck. Despite their clear skill, the hunters were no match for the beast. And on top of that, they had just as obviously been taxed by the pursuit to the point where a mistake was inevitable. When it happened, three more hunters fell. Two of them were ripped to pieces by the boar’s sharp tusks, but the other only took a glancing blow. Even that was enough to send the two – rider and moutn – to ragdoll across the grassland.

He ran forward, watching in horror as the creature wheeled on the other hunters and charged. Another two got trampled, and by the time Elijah reached the scene, panic suffused their ranks. So, he shouted, “Scatter!”

Then, without further thought, cast Storm’s Fury at the enraged beast. Lightning arced down from the cloudless sky, slapping the boar in the head. Despite the fact that the bolt came from above, the beast quickly zeroed in on Elijah and charged him.

Getting the creature’s attention had been the goal, but now, Elijah found himself on the wrong end of a furious, multi-ton living tank.