There was a strange wind in the air as that evening went on. With many smaller tribes appearing to join the summit, it wouldn't have been an exaggeration to assume that most of the world's Beastkin were collected in that one place. While the organisation of their tents and supplies were chaotic, the singular purpose which had brought them all together quietened most petty squabbles before they even began.
Having finished exchanging information with the neighbouring Rabbitkin tribes, Pale stretched her arms and yawned while returning to the tents of her own. She was most certainly a hunter, rather than a diplomat, and the summit had never failed to tire her for as long as she had been in attendance. To her frustration, it appeared that many other tribes, not only the Rabbitkin, were suffering from a lack of available food. Tales of the Steppe's withered ecosystem had begun to spread throughout the plains. With tired eyes, she looked towards the far horizon--or, as much of it as she could possibly see over the tips of neighbouring tents which had already circled them completely.
"Pale."
"Hah!?"
Jumping at the appearance of a familiar voice, she turned to see what appeared to be a shadow moving around of its own accord, which quickly closed the gap between them, inky form coalescing into a humanoid shape.
"Hoh. Fusala." She sighed, "What a fright you just gave me…"
"There is no time to talk." Pale was enlightened to the unusual sense of urgency in her voice, "Demons are rapidly approaching this area. We must warn everyone."
"Wh-" The rabbit-girl shook her head, "Excuse me? Demons? I'm not sure I-"
"As I have stated, time is of the essence. I have been instructed by Barion to ensure that each and every participant of the summit is prepared for combat in the next 10 minutes." Fusala explained promptly, "Demons are exceptionally violent combatants who are likely to overwhelm the unprepared in a matter of moments. Every spare second wasted lowers the chances of our survival significantly."
"Wait just a moment. This is too-"
"My muted capability to express emotion limits my ability to convey urgency in a believable manner." She interrupted, "Barion seemed aware of this, so instructed me to repeat his words verbatim--if we do not act immediately, it is more than likely that most of the world's Beastkin will be killed before the sun rises tomorrow morning."
"Gh-" Not certain what to think, Pale sighed, "Then, where is Barion?"
"He remains to the west, from where the horde of Demons approaches." Falling silent for a moment, Fusala lowered her head, "I… do not know what he intends to do."
"When you say 'Demons'..."
"They are the very same who were once controlled by the Demon King 500 years ago." She revealed, "I cannot explain more. I have already exceeded the allotted time it should have taken to convince you."
"Damn…!" Gritting her teeth, a bead of sweat appeared on Pale's forehead, "...Hey, one of you! Sound the horn! We are under attack!"
The dwellers of her tribe had often been intimidated by Pale's uninhibited demeanour, but they knew better than to question her in times of peril, especially when she seemed so frenzied. Scurrying away at once, the girl turned back to Fusala with a determined gaze.
"Every Beastkin tribe who walks the Steppe knows the call of a war horn." She said, "Even if they don't immediately understand its intent, the sound will cause a chain reaction. Most warriors will arm themselves, and most of those who cannot fight will try to hide."
"There is nowhere to hide on this plain." Fusala stated plainly.
"...I know that." She frowned, "The tents will have to do."
As she finished speaking, the unmistakable sound of a horn blew out from within one of the tents, and all at once, a great commotion began to develop among the neighbouring tribes, who shortly afterwards were also blowing their own horns in response. The hushed chattering of thousands dissolved away in an instant, replaced by a thunderous storm of movement which vibrated the ground beneath them.
"Demons…" Pale muttered again, "How can that be?"
"I am unaware of their origins." Fusala answered, "However, I feel it would be best for you to know at this moment that the purpose of our visit to the Steppe was to eradicate one such creature."
"That's-" Darting her head to the side, Pale interrupted herself, "...I must go. You mentioned these Demons approaching from the west, correct? I will make certain that this is known to all."
Without another word, she sprinted off towards the summit's centre, leaving Fusala standing amidst the chaos that had ensued as a result of the horn being blown.
"I was instructed not to reveal-" She spoke to nobody, "-that Demons cannot be defeated."
On a whim, her gaze turned to the western basin.
"Barion…" Her chest tightened, "What… are you going to do?"
Many of those who had taken up arms in response to the horns of war being sounded remained completely unaware of the predicament, but nonetheless armed themselves with bows and spears, following the cries of thousands of like-minded individuals who began to gather on the empty wasteland beyond the summit's perimeter. Lacking the training of an army, the distribution and placement of the resultant battalions were amateurish and lacked cohesion, with a disorganised chain of command appointing supposed veterans in positions of authority. Having little time to prepare, only a small number of the warriors were even told which direction the threat was approaching from, but such knowledge would eventually be bestowed upon all of them, for better or for worse.
In the minutes leading up to their confrontation, the term 'Demon' had been passed from the shaky lips of a certain few, thanks mostly to the efforts of Pale, who had proudly offered herself up to the front lines. It was not a believable thing to hear, but questions arose as to what kind of threat could possibly demand the combined might of a Beastkin summit. As the talkative sorts were hushed, those among them with especially sensitive ears, Pale included, could detect an inconsistent rumbling in the distance, as if a divine Garuda had landed to roost upon the soil.
5 minutes passed. Then 10. After 15, the rumbling had stopped entirely, and many who had prepared themselves for deadly combat were beginning to doubt that any real threat existed at all. But then, as the limit of their collective patience neared, something poked its head over the faraway hilltops--feverish, rabid and impossibly chaotic. Its head was like that of a hound's, only there was no skin covering its flesh, exposing the nerves and bones and organs which glistened a deep crimson in the red evening sun. But there was another--a twitching mass of feelers and pseudopods, so densely collected that whatever body it had was entirely unknowable. Again, there was another twitching silhouette--a gangly, humanoid creature which teetered upon two stilt-like legs. The four segmented arms sprouting from its upper body flashed with invincible sharpness, and its head, upon which was plastered a thousand-toothed grin, was like that of a starving man's, emaciated and hollow. Then followed another 7, each more of a living mistake than the last.
"What…" Beneath her breath, Pale muttered to herself, "Are these… Demons?"
Larger than houses, 10 of those creatures marched unsteadily down from the hill, each of them seemingly unperturbed by the small army which now confronted them. After a moment of deliberation, there was a great yell from one of the groups.
"Archers! Take aim!"
With none of a trained army's grace, each of that battalion's bow-wielding Beastkin stepped forward to draw their strings back in anticipation for a volley. As if following their example, similar orders were barked among the others, and before long, more than a thousand archers had taken aim at the disorganised parade of Demons. Beastkin were not especially well-trained in the arts of war, but their bowmanship was second to none, having cultivated a degree of precision and patience only seen in the finest of hunters elsewhere.
"Now! Loose!"
One after the other, volleys of arrows were fired high into the air, each of them moving to fall inexorably upon the Demons. While at first cries of satisfaction were heard as most of the projectiles found their mark, bombarding the creatures and the soil surrounding them with waves of perfectly-fired arrows, the triumph of that moment was short-lived as none of the Demons appeared to fall or be affected in any significant way. From that distance, it almost appeared as if their arrows had simply bounced off, and even those which had sunk into the foul crevices of their godless bodies appeared to snap in two.
Just as a second volley was being prepared, the hound-like Demon, apparently incensed by their attempt, began to bound on all fours towards the Beastkin at an astounding speed, closing the distance between them in a matter of seconds.
"That one's fast!" A commanding voice warned, "Spearmen, move in to immobilise it!"
The frontal formations of their army were equipped with long spears and shortswords, designed to intercept any enemy attempting to flank the defenceless archers. However, the Hound Demon appeared to have little mind for strategy, charging headfirst towards the nearest group of spearmen who braced for its attack. With speed unlike that of a living creature, it careened through the formation without an inkling of resistance, ploughing through the wall of spears as its cavernous, tooth-filled maw opened wide, only to clamp shut with incredible force, tearing limbs from those only barely touched and reducing those directly in front of it to piles of mangled pulp. Spearmen who moved to encircle it stabbed at its skinless body, only to see the iron-tipped heads of their weapons cracking or bouncing off. Like that, their lives were ended shortly as the beast flung itself into a spin with enough speed to maim any in its vicinity.
Nearby, Pale and her battalion readied their own spears with hands that had now begun to shake.
"Are we even harming it!?" She gritted her teeth, "No--what even is it!? I've never-"
She didn't have time to finish her thought before the Demon in question had leaped towards them, entrails flying from its long-snouted mouth as it consumed one half of the group in an instant, lifeless eyes glistening with an unnatural hatred. At the same time, Pale's attention was caught by a flash which filled the plain with endless light. Daring to divert her attention from the Hound, she witnessed a great, continuous crater running along the ground. The battalions of spearmen and archers who had been caught in its path no longer existed--not even their ashes continued to blow in the wind afterwards. One of the as-of-yet unknown Demons in the distance--a living barrel of flesh supported by two inflamed legs, had smoke and steam erupting from the cavernous chamber within its head. In a second instant, the flash appeared again, and Pale witnessed the Demon firing a kind of beam along the ground, disintegrating entire groups of Beastkin in an instant.
"T-This is too much!" From her side, a Beastkin screamed, "We have to retreat!"
"Don't even think about ordering something like that!" Pale yelled, "The camp is filled with people who can't protect themselves! Children and the elderly! We have to defeat them here!"
In another instant, that man was gone--sliced in two by the Hound's glimmering claws. A spatter of blood stained her cheek, and as she looked around her, Pale realised that she was the only remaining member of that small battalion. Gripping her spear with both hands, she clenched her teeth with enough force to chip them, and took a stance as the Hound lowered its own.
"Shit…" Her heart thumped, "Don't think I'm about to be killed that easily…!"