The outpost's iron gates groaned as Kalem and Garron returned from patrol. The sky had darkened into a deep violet hue, streaks of crimson still clinging to the horizon as night began to settle over Gehenna's battlefield. The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh and metal, remnants of the day's clashes lingering like ghosts.
As they passed through the gates, the guards gave them brief nods before shutting the heavy doors behind them. Another night in Gehenna, another temporary reprieve from the horrors beyond the walls.
Garron stretched his arms over his head, letting out a tired sigh. "You know, with the way you fight, you could end up as a Desperado if you tried hard enough."
Kalem, who had been dusting off his gauntlets, glanced at him. "In what sense?"
Garron smirked. "You're already a bit unreasonable. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll reach a point where normal people will have to start treating you as one of the monsters."
Kalem rolled his eyes. "That doesn't really answer my question."
"It doesn't need to. You'll see soon enough."
Kalem shook his head, deciding to drop the subject. He had no plans to become some lone warrior, crawling through the abyssal depths without rest, without allies. That was no way to live.
"I'm going to my cart for some shut-eye," Kalem muttered, making his way toward his transport.
"Try not to dream of the Abyss," Garron called after him.
Kalem waved him off without looking back.
The Next Day
A firm knock against the side of the cart woke Kalem from his sleep. His hand instinctively reached for the dagger under his pillow before he registered the voice calling out to him.
"We're going further in today," Garron announced.
Kalem sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we have the manpower for that."
Garron shrugged. "Relax, we're not going all the way to the Maw. Just a bit ahead."
Kalem frowned. "And why are we doing that, exactly?"
Garron let out a dramatic sigh. "Apparently, a big beast slipped past the Legion's defenses and is heading in our direction."
Kalem exhaled sharply. "So we're supposed to stop it until someone stronger comes to kill it."
Garron pointed a finger at him, nodding. "Exactly! How the hell did you figure that out so fast? Don't tell me you can read minds."
Kalem snorted. "Did you forget? You told me yesterday about how the monsters at the Maw are incomparably stronger than the ones we usually fight. If something from there slipped past the frontlines, it's obviously a big deal."
Garron smirked. "Relax, I'm joking."
Kalem finished strapping on his boots. "When do we depart?"
"In a few moments," Garron replied, already heading toward the outpost entrance. "Bring your bull and cart too. We need some transport."
Kalem sighed, but didn't argue. Onyx was faster than most warhorses, and his cart, though small, was reinforced. If things went south, it would at least provide some cover.
"Well, better than nothing," Kalem muttered as he opened another metal crate in his cart.
Inside lay a neatly folded set of armor—not for him, but for Onyx.
The Armored Bull
A little while later, Kalem arrived at the outpost's entrance.
His cart was empty, save for his personal metal crate, but Onyx was armored from head to toe.
The massive black bull stomped the ground, his plate armor gleaming under the morning sun. The segmented plates covered his body without restricting movement, and a thick metallic mask was secured over his face, with openings for his glowing red eyes. Spiked guards protected his legs, and a reinforced war saddle had been strapped to his back, lined with hooks to attach weapons or supplies.
Garron blinked. "You had an armor set for your bull?"
Kalem mounted Onyx effortlessly. "Yes."
Garron sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course you did. And you just carry it around with you?"
"Where else would I put it?" Kalem replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Garron gestured vaguely at the cart. "I don't know, maybe in a proper storage facility?"
Kalem clicked his tongue. "And what if I needed it suddenly?"
Garron stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "You are ridiculous."
Kalem ignored the comment and turned his attention to the rest of the group. There were about a dozen other soldiers preparing their weapons and mounts, their faces grim. No one liked being sent after a rogue beast from the Maw—it was basically asking for casualties.
"Alright, listen up!" a commanding voice barked.
Everyone turned to Commander Varik, who stood atop a small platform near the gate. His scarred face and iron-gray beard made him look as if he'd been fighting in Gehenna since the beginning of time itself.
"We have one objective today," Varik continued. "A monster has slipped past the Legion's line. We don't know exactly what it is, but we do know that it's big and heading straight for us."
Murmurs spread through the group, but Varik silenced them with a glare.
"Our job is to slow it down until reinforcements arrive. We will not engage it directly unless absolutely necessary. Is that clear?"
A chorus of "Yes, sir!" rang out.
Varik nodded, satisfied. "Then move out!"
With that, the group mounted up. Horses neighed, weapons clanked, and boots hit the dirt as they began their advance.
Kalem adjusted his grip on Onyx's reins. The bull snorted in anticipation, his armored hooves leaving deep imprints in the ground.
Garron rode up beside him, shaking his head with a wry smile. "You really are something else."
Kalem smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Garron chuckled. "No. Just entertaining."
The group rode forward, leaving the safety of the outpost behind. The open fields stretched ahead of them, the shadow of the Abyss looming in the far distance.
The hunt had begun.