Chapter 2: Abandoned

The ground tremors grew more intense, and even the dullest of the ogres, Veer, noticed it. He quickly dropped the heavy sack of ore he had been carrying and gripped his tattered steel shield, alertly looking toward the valley.

This steel round shield was one of the finest pieces crafted specifically for the journey through the Saundfest Mountains, and it was the only piece capable of fully defending against the claws of a beamon. With a diameter of one and a half meters and a maximum thickness of seven inches, this shield was designed by dwarven craftsmen to ensure quality while minimizing weight. Nevertheless, it still weighed a hefty thousand pounds, requiring the ogre to lift it with both hands to wield it properly. The steel, treated by the blacksmith Orford, was hard and strong enough to make excellent weapons, and the shield's appropriate curvature could absorb a significant portion of the impact force. A valuable magic gem was embedded in the handle to enhance its durability and resilience. In some respects, this shield was no longer just a shield; it had become a smaller, more refined version of a city wall.

However, this piece of equipment, which was considered among the best for both weight and defensive capability in the continent, now seemed twisted and deformed, appearing more like a pile of scrap metal upon closer inspection. Over the past few days, the shield had endured countless blows from the beamon's claws, with each strike leaving it more battered and dented. It was only due to its extraordinary resilience that it had survived this long.

As the winds began to die down, the tremors of the ground became more apparent. A deep rumble echoed through the air, steadily growing louder. Though the beamon was massive, its speed was no less than that of any other creature on the continent, and its agility and reflexes could rival those of a orc. This was precisely why Asa did not dare to hope for a chance to escape.

The lizardman, Viste, also set down his sack of ore and took out his steel crossbow, loading the last of his poisonous magic bolts. He jumped onto a nearby outcrop of rock.

The poison on that magic bolt was personally refined by Theodorus, and just a single arrow could kill a hundred horses. Even so, this potent toxin would have limited effect on the beamon, which likely had the strongest constitution among the creatures of the continent. The previously effective weakening magic attached to it had also proven futile over time; the creatures living in the valley were largely unaffected by curse-type magic, as the pervasive magical fluctuations in the environment rendered such effects ineffective. Only white magic, which directly influenced life force, seemed to retain any power.

Alkin and Luken had their ears perked up, attentively capturing the dull, thunderous footsteps resonating in the air. Their muscular hands clutched their flails tightly. The tension in the air made them bare their sharp teeth and emit low growls.

Luken, attempting to remain calm, shouted to Asa, "Northeast by north, about three thousand meters away. It should come around that cliff in half a minute."

Asa nodded, holding his knife in his right hand and the paralysis scroll in his left. "Drop your weapons. Take off your armor. Don't attack; just focus on dodging."

The two orcs hesitated. Any orc would never back down from a fight, no matter how uneven the odds, especially when they were recognized as the strongest warriors of their tribe. Such orders felt like the greatest insult to them.

"Drop your weapons, take off your armor. Hurry." Asa repeated calmly.

Luken was the first to drop his weapon, silently removing his leather armor. Alkin, taken aback, sighed heavily with an unusual tone before also discarding his weapon and armor.

When fighting grey renders and giant eagles, the orcs' combined combat prowess could be fully demonstrated. But beamon was a different story. Even against a normal beamon, their weapons, which would be nightmares for ordinary humans, would hardly deal significant damage. This was even more so for a beamon of such immense size, with its thick skin and muscles. Rather than scratching it, it was wiser to avoid it altogether. Even a heavily armored ogre could be crushed to bits under a beamon's claw; the only role armor could play was to hinder dodging.

Asa directed the puppet corpse to place the ogre, Krolin, who had fallen unconscious from injuries, into a nearby crevice. He then jumped onto its head. This puppet was merely an ordinary beamon that had already been severely damaged; he did not dare to hope it could withstand a single blow from a giant beast. Its purpose was to inflict as much damage as possible on the beamon when the paralysis scroll took effect, creating a window of opportunity for Asa.

Asa recited the incantation, flipping the knife in his hand and cutting a wound in his palm, pressing the blade against it.

The cut was neither large nor deep, but no blood flowed out. All the blood that touched the knife instantly vanished, and even the flesh around the wound turned pale and withered. The previously dark and unremarkable knife began to glow with a dark red aura.

Asa's complexion paled. This was the first time he had used such a self-harming method. Sandru had warned him that while this could temporarily enhance the knife's special effects and power, the magical backlash and harm to his body were equally dangerous. This method was a double-edged sword that should not be employed unless in a dire situation.

Small rocks began to tumble down from both sides of the cliffs as if the entire ground was being shaken by the enormous creature that had yet to appear. Luken's face grew increasingly grim, and he yelled at Asa, "Be careful! This thing is at least ten meters tall. It's about to come into view!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a colossal figure emerged from over a kilometer away along the cliff. Its size dwarfed that of its kind, with grayish-white fur covering its massive body. Standing ten meters tall and almost as wide, it resembled a moving mountain of flesh. Its blood-red maw could swallow a cow whole, and its teeth were akin to a dense forest of long swords, with two protruding canines over a meter long. Its limbs were thick and powerful, resembling a massive gorilla scaled up several dozen times, and the claws that grew from its stout hands were some of the continent's most terrifying weapons—each claw was shaped like a wickedly curved blade, with the shortest measuring two meters in length. The destructive power of these natural, sword-like hands, combined with the terrifying strength of the beamon, surpassed that of any human weapon.

The giant beast finally caught sight of its prey, letting out a thunderous roar that echoed through the air. Stimulated by the fresh scent of the ogres and orcs, it swiped its paw against the nearby rock wall, and the hard granite crumbled away like brittle bread. Then it began to charge toward them on its stocky legs, drool dripping from its massive jaws.

The distance of over a kilometer was quickly diminishing under the pounding of the beast's feet, and with its rapid approach, the ground shook ever more violently, filling the valley with the sound of its earth-shaking steps.

Only Viste appeared unfazed. The lizardman's face had little muscle to express emotions. Every other person, including Asa, showed signs of a slight twitch in their expressions. No matter how brave a warrior was, witnessing such a colossal creature charging toward them with such force would leave anyone devoid of courage and resolve, making them feel as insignificant as a lowly goblin compared to the towering mass of muscle before them.

Luken, the orc, whose ears had previously drooped, suddenly perked up again. Cautiously, he tilted his head and knelt down, pressing his ears to the ground, as if he needed to hear the thunderous footsteps even better.

Everyone noticed Luken's action, but there was no time to ponder the reason behind it. All eyes were fixed on the rapidly approaching beamon. The immense bulk of its body radiated an overwhelming pressure, making even the tall and muscular ogre appear diminutive and grotesque in comparison.

Suddenly, Luken, who had been crouched on the ground, seemed to have a blade stabbed into his ears, causing him to spring up with a start. Tension and fear twisted his face into a grimace as he turned to Asa, roaring a warning. Amid the thunderous footsteps, his voice was nearly inaudible, but everyone could hear clearly, "There's another one, in the same direction, two thousand meters away. It just appeared!"

"What?" Asa's body jolted in shock, nearly losing his balance on the puppet corpse.

Due to the scarcity of food in the Saundfest Mountains, these giants often resorted to cannibalism, making their kind their only true enemies. Regardless of the type of prey, a beamon would not overlook another that might come after it. The only possibility was that these two beamons were some sort of companions; they shared the same territory. This meant that they would have to contend with two of these monstrous beasts.

The beamon before them was now only a hundred meters away. The low growl emanating from its gaping maw combined with the thunderous footsteps rolled through the air like a wave, overwhelming everything in its wake.

The ogre let out a roar that seemed to challenge the pounding footsteps, raising its shield and attempting to charge forward. Alkin's eyes began to bloodshot. They were unsure if they could face the beamon before them; the other two were already facing certain death. The fear of death awakened the primal instincts deep within their souls, transforming their extreme terror into unparalleled fighting spirit and courage. They were teetering on the edge of madness.

"Calm down!" Asa shouted, his voice strained as if he were about to tear his vocal cords.

He was familiar with that feeling—fear and fighting spirit clashing violently within the soul. He knew how orcs would react. But no matter how strong the fighting spirit or great the courage, it wouldn't bridge the gap of absolute power. Whether they cowardly fled or bravely charged head-on, the result was the same: death.

Asa did not forget Sandru's expression when he entrusted this group of elite orcs to him. He was their leader now, and he had the responsibility to command them. More importantly, he had the duty to bear the consequences. So, he remained clear-headed.

Upon hearing Asa's voice, the orcs paused. During this time, they had come to fully understand and trust this human's abilities.

Asa reversed the blade of his knife and began to chant again. This time, he cut his wrist. The artery ruptured, and blood gushed forth, but upon contact with the blade, it was absorbed as if the knife were a sponge. The dark red glow on the blade intensified, and it began to tremble slightly, resembling a bloodied specter ready to tear through the void. The incantation coalesced in the air, forming faint magical symbols that attached themselves to the blade.

The puppet corpse moved silently, charging at the massive beast nearly twice its height.

The knife left Asa's wrist, and he felt a chill in his hands and feet; his internal magical energy was now completely depleted.

Unfortunately, Sandru couldn't see this. If he could, he would be furious, as Asa had essentially stabbed himself half to death instead of wielding a double-edged sword.

The person was half-dead, but the knife in his hand seemed to have come alive. A faint humming sound began to resonate from the blade, sounding faint yet sharp enough to pierce through the beamon's thunderous footsteps and roars.

The puppet corpse and the giant beast collided. At the moment the beast raised its massive claws, Asa unfurled the scroll. A burst of colorful magical lights flashed around the beamon, and the creature's movements abruptly froze.

Asa secretly sighed in relief. Indeed, this white magic was effective against this giant beast. The remaining steps became easier.

Taking advantage of this moment, the puppet corpse lunged into the beast's embrace, its claws piercing into its chest and abdomen. However, this was far from a lethal blow; the beast was simply too massive and robust. The resilience of its white fur far surpassed that of other beamons, so the claws didn't penetrate deeply.

But that was Asa's intention. To face the approaching second beamon, he couldn't directly kill this one. He leaped onto the beast's neck from the puppet corpse's head and shouted to Viste, the lizardman, who was aiming for the beast's eye: "Don't shoot! Just try to delay the other one!"

The orcs were taken aback. However, Asa didn't have time to think about what they could use to stall the other possibly equally large beast. He could only shout an urgent command: "And the most important thing—there's an exit right ahead. Make sure no one dies!"

At that moment, the second beamon appeared within the orcs' line of sight. It was yet another adult beamon, almost identical to the first, charging towards them from the same direction and at the same speed.

Standing atop the giant beast, the grayish-white fur pierced through Asa's leather boots like steel needles, sending a jolt of pain through him, snapping him back to reality despite his heavy blood loss. He plunged the dark red knife down, and it silently penetrated the beast's neck. Surprisingly, the fur that could withstand the beamon's own claws parted easily, like rotten fabric. Asa nearly drove the hilt and both hands into the beamon's body.

He could feel the knife slicing through fur and muscle, piercing into a blood vessel as thick as a barrel. However, instead of a gushing flood of blood, there was no trace or scent of it. Asa felt as if the knife was screaming and howling, his blood and magic intertwining with the beamon's lifeblood and vitality in a frenzied flow.

The effectiveness of this top-tier scroll lasted just over a second. A roar powerful enough to reverberate throughout the Saundfest Mountains erupted from the beamon's maw, making even the ogres and orcs cover their ears. The giant beast regained its movement, but instead of swiping at the puppet corpse clawing at its chest, it suddenly changed direction, lunging at Asa, trying to claw the tiny creature from its neck.

The puppet corpse leaped back suddenly, grabbing the beast's massive paw. The claw was dragged downward, the two gigantic claws—larger than Asa's body—colliding with a loud crash, but he could no longer hear it. The roar from moments ago had robbed him of his hearing, and all he could feel was warm blood flowing out, pooling at his feet. The pain in his head felt as if his brain had been turned to mush; he had to exert every ounce of strength to avoid passing out.

The puppet's claws embedded deeply into the beast's forearm and then ceased to move. This action unleashed all the residual energy of the puppet corpse, transforming its broken body into a peculiar chain binding the beast's enormous claws.

Asa maneuvered the puppet corpse for its final act, gripping the knife's hilt tightly. He could feel the unimaginable life force within the beamon surging under his control; he needed to seize it.

The beamon howled, frantically swinging its forearms in an attempt to grab the minuscule creature hanging from its neck. Although it had only sustained minor injuries, the peculiar sensations radiating from there instinctively warned it of unprecedented danger. Yet, the puppet corpse clung tightly to its arms, its claws digging into the gaps between the bones. The more it struggled, the more pain shot into its marrow. It desperately twisted its thick neck and opened its massive jaws, but despite clearly sensing the tiny creature's presence, it couldn't bite down. So, it began madly thrashing about, ramming itself against the rock wall. However, no matter how much it struggled, the person hanging from its neck remained unmoved. Slowly, the beast's movements began to slow.

The foul wind exhaled from the beamon, its saliva flung about as it twisted its head, splattering Asa, but he felt nothing. His spirit had melded with the blood on the knife, and he sensed the beamon's life force waning. His only thought was to withdraw the knife.

At this moment, the orcs charged toward the second beamon as Asa had instructed. Although they didn't know how to block or delay the creature, they had to try.

The ogre let out an enraged roar, raising its shield and charging at the beamon. However, its once-mighty form barely reached the creature's waist, resembling a toddler rushing at a muscular giant wielding a weapon, rendering the scene both heroic and tragic. Though it was the most capable of withstanding a blow from the beamon, its chances were just a glimmer of hope amid a sea of impossibility.

The lizardman, Viste, made no sound or gesture of excitement. Silently, he jumped forward with his crossbow toward the beamon. Even bolts capable of piercing steel plates couldn't guarantee penetration through the beast's fur; the only effective spots were its eyes and mouth. To hit the disproportionately small eyes or the toothy maw of the moving giant, he would need to get incredibly close—possibly even onto the beamon itself, like Asa. Whether he would find such an opportunity beneath the beamon's claws was uncertain.

Alkin's roar was even louder and wilder than that of the ogre. He picked up the weapon he had dropped and charged alongside the ogre. Even though he knew he could do nothing to harm or hinder the beamon, he could not simply stand idly by. He would do his best to delay the monster, even using his own teeth and claws if necessary. Asa's last command had ignited his blood and fighting spirit; he was determined to create even the slightest opportunity for his companions, no matter the cost—even if it meant being torn to shreds.

Only Luken's actions were different from theirs. He suddenly turned and ran toward the beamon that was staggering with Asa, crashing against the rock wall.

He dodged the beamon's massive feet and pounced to grab something from the ground. As he picked it up, the beamon's foot, which could flatten him into paste, stepped on his tail, eliciting a clear and piercing scream that cut through the beamon's roar. After the foot stomped down, it didn't lift again, pinning him down. He screamed and struggled desperately, leaving his tail behind under the beamon's foot.

Emerging from beneath the beamon, Luken opened his hands to reveal what he had picked up: it was Asa's remaining 'Flame Bomb,' which had fallen from him during the struggle with the beamon.

With the scroll unfurled, a dazzling ball of light appeared in Luken's hands. No one could see the size of the ball; the other beastmen, running toward it, instinctively covered their eyes. It was almost like a small sun pulled down to the mortal realm, and everyone could only vaguely perceive the brilliant light streaking across, followed by a wave of scorching heat.

The sound of the explosion was not thunderous; it was more like the faint sound of a fire arrow launched by an ordinary wizard, lacking any significant shockwave. In contrast, the roar of the giant beast echoed throughout the valley.

Faced with the blinding light, the giant beast instinctively raised its two massive claws to shield its eyes, resulting in its head and face becoming charred, while the claws that had blocked its sight were completely destroyed, leaving only two charred arms and a ground covered in ash.

After unleashing the scroll, Luken collapsed, his body emitting black smoke, with all the hair on his body singed away in the instant the scroll was activated.

This was likely one of the reasons the scroll could be preserved. The power of this top-tier fire magic attack did not lie in the explosion itself, but in the temperature. If it were not for the wizard's handling, the intense heat of the glowing sphere would instantly cook the user.

The giant beast swung its remaining charred arm, releasing a painful roar from its massive mouth. But it was only half a roar; soon after, it emitted strange gurgling sounds. The lizardman, Vest, seized the opportunity, jumping into the air and raising his crossbow to pull the trigger, shooting a poisoned bolt deep into the giant beast's throat.

However, the beast did not fall. The arrow did not hit the brainstem as Vest had imagined; the potency of the poison was too weak to take immediate effect on such a gigantic creature. The beast's charred arm swung, and though it did not directly hit, it brushed against Vest, sending the lizardman flying like a straw doll, crashing against the cliff. Then, the half-dead beast swiftly got back on its feet, charging toward its seemingly unsteady companion.

Suddenly, a heavy scent of blood filled the entire valley, followed by a wave of red that turned the midday sun into a brilliant drop of blood.

Asa finally withdrew the knife from the giant beast's body. As the blade pulled free, a large spray of blood followed. This action not only extracted the knife but also drained the giant beast of all its blood and life essence. The struggling beast immediately collapsed silently, deflating like a punctured ball.

The blood that represented the total life force of the giant beast did not spill; instead, it gathered around the knife, emitting a blood-red glow and scent that filled the valley.

Asa raised the knife, lifting the massive pool of blood, his pale figure appearing insignificant beneath the vast crimson. Even the approaching giant beast seemed trivial.

The blood light coalesced into an enormous knife shape. The color and smell greatly stimulated the half-dead beast, which let out a roar, seemingly summoning the last of its strength to accelerate toward Asa.

Asa shouted loudly, swinging the knife down. The blood-colored giant blade transformed into a vibrant red light that filled the valley. Neither the beast's roar nor Asa's voice could be heard; the dazzling radiance drowned everything out.

Like a massive red lightning bolt striking the valley, blood and debris exploded into a whirlwind, the ground shaking as if it had been cleaved in two by the knife.

As the blood rain settled, the bisected corpse of the giant beast crashed to the ground. In the wake of that strike, a trail of blood splattered across the landscape, creating a trench over a mile long and more than a meter deep in the hard rock.

After delivering that blow, Asa collapsed to the ground, as if that strike had drained his own blood and life force as well.

The first to stand up was surprisingly Luken, covered in soot, with only superficial burns from the intense heat. He had fainted momentarily from the sudden temperature. Then came the ogre, Veer, whose armor and sturdy body shielded him from serious harm. Alkin, despite losing a hand and several ribs, managed to evade the massive charred arm thanks to his wolf-like agility. The lizardman had suffered more broken bones, but their incredible healing ability meant this was hardly a problem.

The beastmen stared at the two neatly bisected corpses of the giant beasts on the ground, their spilled entrails, and the sea of blood. Most importantly, they beheld the trench that seemed almost impossible for a mere mortal to create. Their eyes were filled with awe and respect. In their memories, even general Grutt could not wield such unfathomable power.

It was noon, and the wind had nearly come to a halt. Within this hour, the narrowest point at the valley's entrance could be traversed without difficulty.

Alkin stepped forward, intending to help Asa up with his one good arm, only to find Asa completely unconscious, his life force weak, as if he could take his last breath at any moment.

"What should we do? How can we save him?" Alkin asked urgently, his heart racing. During their time in the valley, he had developed genuine respect for Asa, a true admiration. Although he knew little about this human, the calmness, rationality, and strength he had shown as their leader spoke volumes. Their shared experiences and Asa's last command showed that he was undoubtedly a comrade, a friend.

And strong allies and friends are always deserving of respect, especially for those living through battle.

Veer and Vest shook their heads in confusion, unable to provide any answers. Their racial traits left them ill-equipped for healing.

Everyone turned their gaze to Luken. Although there was no explicit hierarchy, he had been closest to Asa during their time in the valley and had worked most closely with him. His mind was also sharper than the others, hinting at a potential leadership role.

But Luken simply lowered his head, regarding Asa's face with a strange expression, before turning to look at the two giant corpses. He studied them carefully, even straining to flip over the massive piles of flesh. Then he approached the others and said, "We don't have to worry about him. Leave him here; we need to get out first."

"What did you say?" Alkin didn't express surprise; he perked up his ears, thinking he had misheard due to the deafening roar of the giant beast.

"We need to move quickly," Luken said, wiping the charred fur from his body. He now resembled a wolfman with all his hair singed away, looking strangely unusual. "With this strong smell of blood, more beasts and the giant eagle will be attracted here soon."