The hard rocking of the horse-drawn carriage had reached an apex. Ryan jolted awake as the side of his head met the wooden plank that he was using as a pillow. Thump. He clutched the newly formed bump with the palm of his hand and exhaled through his teeth. That was what he got for trying to catch some sleep in a moving vehicle. Jonell was squeezed onto the bench across from him, so close that their legs were intertwined; and there was the constant threat of one being pushed forward into the other's crotch.
There was a lot of demand for mercenaries, and the people organising their transport were cutting corners wherever they could. Carts intended for seven or eight people were rammed to the gills with numbers in the late teens. Why rest with a handful of men when you could jam even more on board and make an even larger amount of money? Ryan had to pity the poor horses who were belaboured with the task of pulling them along.
There was a seed of doubt in his mind. This was the 'adventure' that he had been so hot and cold on for years since his arrival into another world. He had some of the skills, an extremely overpowered legendary weapon, and a way with words that quickly endeared him to other people – now if only whatever God had chosen him had also provided him with a better sense of direction…
It was too late to head back now. Jonell would never let him hear the end of it if he stayed on board the cart and took the return trip without trying first. Tensions were running high thanks to the premium that had been placed on free space during the trip – but it was finally coming to an end. Ryan looked to his left and saw the people at the front craning over the edges to get a clearer view of the surrounding landscape.
"What in God's name happened here?" he muttered as it finally came into his own field of view. The first thing he was drawn to was a wicked spire of hard rock that had jutted upwards from the ground, threatening to pierce whatever it came across in the process. The ground around it had been split in twain by the force of the underground movement, pushing it upwards from below and leaving a hideous scar in the usually smooth landscape.
It wasn't the only one. The cart started to struggle as the beaten path was interrupted with more tectonic movements. Ryan had walked down this road once before, but even his vaguest memory of the area was completely misaligned with the new reality. He could hear the others talking about how horrible it was. Jonell kept his eyes shut and his mouth closed.
"You don't want to look?"
He sneered, "We're gonna' be here for a long while. I'm savouring my last moments in civilization while they last."
Ryan's brow quirked, "Civilization? This is Pascen we're talking about, not Versia."
"You haven't heard half of the stories that I have."
The man next to him who had caught the tail end of their discussion nodded along in silent agreement. Ryan fiddled with his thumbs for a moment before turning to face over the side once more. He could see more of the displacements through the fog and the rain. They stood menacingly, just out of sight, giant black silhouettes that gave the impression of a hostile and alien place. What kind of tectonic activity could create so many of them so quickly?
Ryan spoke without turning back, "What kind of stories are those?"
The trundling of the wheels, clopping of hooves and groans of agony from the cart made it difficult to hear. Jonell had to yell over it all; "I already said – chaos, monsters running around and killing folk, and this bastard of a landscape you're seeing right now. It's like the underworld spewed itself up through the cracks. We aren't even into the bad part just yet!"
Ryan couldn't imagine how it could get worse. The cart passed a house that was still somewhat intact, but dragged several feet into the air by the movement of the ground it had been built on. The personal belongings of the owner had spilled outwards onto the ground below, and the entire structure listed dangerous at an angle. A farm. One that had supported people with food and commerce for many years. Nothing was going to grow there now.
The man who had reserved his silence before leaned in to offer his own anecdote, "I have family over here. I heard from them that everything's gone wrong, they only just got outta' the city before it became impossible for a civilian to do. I bet they're calling us over to help evacuate everyone."
Jonell shook his head, "And what? Leave the whole city to rot? This is one of the biggest and most important Duchies on the continent."
"I don't much believe that myself," the man offered, "But I'm sure that there's plenty of people wanting to get away from the danger. Not everyone wants to go down with the ship."
"But still, an entire city…"
Ryan was starting to believe that it was the case. The terrain around them was only growing more twisted with each yard travelled. It was only a matter of time until the cart came to an impassable roadblock. They'd have to make the rest of the treacherous journey on foot. Some of the men had already had enough of being packed onto the cart like sardines, they dismounted from the bump ride and walked alongside the cart with weapons at the ready.
Ryan elected to stay. His cart mate was gone and now he had the run of the bench to himself. He wasn't feeling the stress just yet, and that meant he had adopted his usual strategy of kicking back and letting everyone else worry about it. It was becoming evident that the stories were true. The damage was immense – the entire planet had rebelled against the people living on top of it. Farms and homes torn to shreds, dead bodies turned into measly piles of blood and gore by unseen foes, and terrain that was completely inhospitable to human life.
Ryan was nearly thrown sliding down the bench as the horses out front whinnied and jeered. The convoy's spotter cried out a warning; "Monsters out front! To arms!" Ryan sighed and watched as Jonell and his new friend leapt over the edge to join in on the fight.
"Why did I come out here?"
There were no less than thirty men in this batch of mercenaries. Surely there were some among that number who were capable of handling a few wild animals? Ryan leaned back over the railing to see what the clamour was about. His eyes widening in shock at the sheer size of the beast that had come across their path.
A wolf, but this was no normal wolf. The grey fur had been turned a pitch black, its wide rabid eyes glowed with an unknowable rage, and strange twisted growths sprouted from its limbs. Ryan identified them as some kind of branches, the red splotches from their roots suggested that they had exploded from its body in a painful fashion. He had never seen anything like it.
Ryan was frozen in place as three of the men charged it, with blade and axe held high. Their mighty roars did nothing to intimidate the beast. The beast did not wait for them to descend upon it. In a flash of fur and fang it returned the favour and leapt atop one of them, dragging him to the ground and sinking its fangs into his neck. Blood poured everywhere as it pulled back on the muscle and sinew, tearing him apart in a gruesome display of power.
If they thought it was a window to attack – they were mistaken. The wolf pulled back on its prize and dragged the now dead body away from its other assailants. The men were stopped in their tracks. They stepped back into the safety of the bristling mass that stood behind them. It was a rare mercy given by a wild creature to try and retain nothing more than what it had already taken.
Ryan felt sick to his stomach. He'd seen people die before, but not like that. He clutched the sheath of his blade and fell down to the wet stone below. Pushing his way through the crowd, he silently hoped that none of them would have the foolishness to charge in again before he got there. Jonell saw him coming and ordered the others to step aside.
"Move you damn fools! Let him through!"
The two survivors looked at the lackadaisical swordsman in confusion. Everything about Ryan screamed 'unprepared,' his odd manner of dress, the light pack of supplies he had brought with him, and the reverence with which he treated the singular weapon he carried on his person. All of these things contributed to a certain image, an image of someone in over his head.
Ryan was not in over his head - not in the least. Put him in a maze and he would be in real trouble, but taking down a single enemy wasn't even a chore. It was only when he finally stood next to Jonell that he realised that the entire thing had turned into a circus. He was at the head of the group, having made an overly dramatic entrance. He knew it was only going to get worse when he did what he was planning to.
"Leave it to me."
One of the soldiers objected, "You can't possibly hope to kill that thing alone!"
Ryan shrugged, "If I can't - it's my funeral. Humour me a little, man. I know what I'm doing."
Ryan swaggered onwards if only to give a false impression of confidence to his doubters. The wolf was chowing down on the fallen man's guts, gums and jaw slobbering outwards with grisly chunks of organ and flesh. His thumb slowly lifted the hilt of Raijin, revealing the faintest hint of the silver edge that resided within the long, curved sheath he wore on his waist. If one were to look closer – they would observe tiny bolts of lightning flowing between the conductive points.
Ryan set his eyes on the target and started to march. The wolf turned to him and growled menacingly, yet he continued regardless. As it hackles raised and its mouth opened wide into a snarl, he continued regardless. Even when it started to sprint towards him with killer intent, he continued regardless. The first gate demanded nothing but a steel heart and bold action.
The wolf leapt into the air, aiming squarely at his neck.
"[First Gate: Thunderous River!]"
The assembled audience saw nothing but a flash of light, and a movement that was so quick that the naked eye registered it as nothing more than a coloured blur. To them, Ryan had remained in place. He maintained the same stance as before, even as the two bisected halves of the formerly unstoppable beast flew over his head and tumbled to the ground behind him. A crack of thunder rang out through the plains, followed by a violent aftershock that blew dust and stone into a sudden whirlwind.
It soon came to a rest, and Ryan turned back to the assembled crowd with a cocky smile, "See? No problem." He exhaled. His lungs were filled with acid and his arm cried out in abject agony. Using the first of Raijin's techniques was extremely painful, and would fatigue him for the rest of the day. He carefully strolled back to the group, trying to hide how much it had taken out of him.
Jonell sighed and scratched his brow, "I knew you were going to do that."
The men had a mixed collection of reactions. From shock to horror, to despair that one of them had already been half consumed by a hideous monstrosity. The sterner ones set about cleaning up some of the mess, retrieving the dead man's belongings and investigating the two halves of the wolf with immense curiosity. Ryan cracked his right arm and leaned back against the motionless cart. None of this bode well for their efforts to reach Pascen.