The barren valley Amukelo had crossed stretched behind him, its desolation contrasting with the jagged peaks that framed it. Ahead, another valley loomed, equally unwelcoming and devoid of vegetation. The unforgiving terrain only added to the mountain's mystique, but Amukelo didn't allow himself to get lost in the view for long. His focus shifted when he noticed a large structure nestled on the rocky outcrop ahead of him—a nest.
The nest was massive, built from thick branches and the remains of smaller trees, clearly constructed by something far larger than any ordinary bird. Amukelo approached cautiously, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword. But as he drew closer, he realized that the nest appeared abandoned. It was empty, save for several large eggs scattered inside.
Some of the eggs were intact, their shells a mottled mixture of white and gray, but others were cracked. Amukelo crouched beside one of the broken shells, inspecting it carefully. It was clear the cracks weren't caused by hatching but rather by neglect. The contents of the egg—a viscous yolk—had hardened. He frowned slightly, his thoughts racing.
"This must've been the griffin's nest," he murmured to himself. "The one I killed." The realization made him pause. The eggs might have belonged to the very creature that had nearly taken his life. But as he glanced back at the intact eggs, hunger gnawed at his stomach. Food was scarce, and he couldn't afford to waste a potential meal. He hesitated, though, a flicker of guilt sparking in his chest. These could have been young griffins, had their parent survived. But then again, he thought grimly, it wasn't as though the griffin had shown him mercy when it tried to rip him apart.
Amukelo sighed and stood, scanning the area for anything he could use to start a fire. A dying tree caught his eye, its brittle branches perfect for kindling. He snapped off a few and arranged them in a small circle near the nest, ensuring the fire wouldn't spread. The wood caught flame easily, and soon a small, steady fire burned. Amukelo brought the eggs closer, placing a few of them near the fire to cook.
The first egg he cracked open was unusually tough, its shell far stronger than any he had encountered before. When he finally managed to split it, what he found made him recoil slightly. Inside was a tiny creature with four legs, its underdeveloped wings folded tightly against its body. It twitched faintly, and Amukelo realized it had been on the verge of hatching. A pang of guilt hit him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of the griffin's claws tearing through his arm. He hardened his resolve. "I can't let pity get in the way," he muttered. "Not here."
He cooked the remaining eggs longer, ensuring they were fully prepared before cracking them. Some contained small, undeveloped griffins, but others were just yolk and whites, a meal he could eat without hesitation. The taste was rich, unlike anything he had eaten before, and the food gave him a surge of energy that spread warmth through his body. Amukelo wiped his hands on his makeshift shirt and stared into the fire. He packed what little he could and began descending the far side of the mountain.
The valley ahead stretched out like a wasteland, its cracked and uneven terrain devoid of life. The lack of vegetation made him feel exposed, and he constantly scanned his surroundings for any sign of movement.
As he moved across the valley, he felt the ground beneath his feet shift slightly. He froze, his heart racing as he looked down. The surface wasn't solid; it was loose, a mix of stones and sand that seemed to sink ever so slightly under his weight. He hesitated, debating whether to backtrack, but before he could move, the ground gave way beneath him.
With a deafening crash, the earth collapsed into a gaping hole. Amukelo leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the pit as it formed. Dust and debris filled the air, stinging his eyes and choking his lungs. He coughed violently, scrambling to his feet as the rumbling continued. From the darkness of the pit, shapes began to emerge.
The first creature that crawled out was unlike anything Amukelo had ever seen. It had a thin, spindly body with four long, sticky legs that clung to the walls of the pit as it climbed. Its head was bulbous, with two sharp, jagged teeth protruding from its mouth. Behind it came another, and then another, until a swarm of them began pouring out of the hole.
Amukelo's heart pounded in his chest as he backed away, his sword drawn instinctively. "What are these things?" He said in panic. The creatures, which he could only assume were some kind of cave crawlers, clicked their teeth together as they moved.
The swarm fanned out, their movements erratic but coordinated. Amukelo tightened his grip on his sword, his breath quick and shallow. He had no idea what these creatures were capable of, but their sheer numbers and grotesque appearance were enough to terrify him. His instincts screamed at him to run, but the creatures moved quickly, cutting off his escape routes.
Fear threatened to overwhelm him as the cave crawlers crept closer, their sticky legs making soft, unsettling sounds against the ground. Amukelo swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. His hand trembled as he raised his sword. "I've made it this far," he muttered. "I can't die here."
The first crawler lunged at him, its teeth snapping dangerously close to his leg. Amukelo sidestepped, swinging his sword downward in a desperate arc. The blade struck the creature's body, cutting through its thin exoskeleton with a sickening crunch. The crawler let out a high-pitched screech and collapsed, but the others surged forward, undeterred.
Amukelo's breaths came in ragged gasps as he stumbled backward, the swarm of Cave Crawlers closing in around him. He felt his heel catch on a rock, and before he could steady himself, he fell hard onto his back. His sword clattered against the ground beside him, but he scrambled to grab it, heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.
One of the creatures lunged at him. With a desperate yell, Amukelo swung his sword upward, cleaving the crawler cleanly in half. Its viscous, greenish insides splattered onto his chest, and the stench hit him immediately, making his stomach churn. He barely had time to process the kill before another crawler leaped at him. Amukelo twisted, slashing his blade horizontally and severing its body.
His breathing quickened as more of them advanced, their numbers seemingly endless. He tried to scramble to his feet, but in his panic, his legs felt like lead. He stumbled again, falling to his knees. "Get up, Amukelo!" he muttered to himself, fear rising in his chest like a tide. Another crawler lunged, and this time he barely managed to bring his sword up in time. The blade connected, but not before one of the creatures latched onto his arm.
Amukelo screamed as its sticky legs wrapped tightly around his forearm, and its teeth sank into his flesh. The pain wasn't as sharp as he expected, but it radiated with a strange, burning sensation. He swung his arm wildly, trying to shake it off, but the crawler held on. Staggering back, he brought his sword down onto the creature, cutting through its legs and head. Its body dropped lifelessly to the ground, but its teeth remained embedded in his arm.
He had no time to address the injury, as more crawlers swarmed him. Amukelo turned and ran, his boots slipping on the loose, rocky terrain. The venom from the bite began to course through his veins, dulling his mind and making his arm throb painfully. Each step felt heavier than the last, but the sound of the swarm behind him spurred him on.
The landscape ahead narrowed as he reached the edge of a steep cliff. He skidded to a halt, looking down at the sheer drop. It was at least sixty feet down, the jagged rocks below promising a painful, if not fatal, fall. His chest heaved as he turned back to face the advancing swarm. The Cave Crawlers were relentless, their grotesque forms crawling over one another as they closed the distance. Amukelo's mind raced, his thoughts muddled by panic and the venom coursing through his blood.
"What do I do? What do I do?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His hands were slick with sweat and blood as he gripped his sword tighter. He glanced down at the drop again, weighing his options. But before he could act, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble.
The rumbling was faint at first, like distant thunder, but it grew rapidly. Amukelo froze, his heart hammering as the vibrations traveled up through his legs. He turned his head sharply, scanning the valley for the source of the disturbance. Then, from the far side of the barren expanse, he saw it. The golem.
The massive stone giant he had seen before was moving toward him, each of its steps shaking the earth with a deep, resounding thud. Its hulking form loomed over the landscape, easily fifty feet tall. It moved with deliberate purpose, its glowing, hollow eyes scanning the terrain.
Amukelo's stomach dropped. The golem was terrifying enough on its own, but the rumbling beneath him hadn't stopped. In fact, it was growing stronger, more violent. Loose rocks and debris tumbled down the sides of the valley as the ground began to split. The Cave Crawlers, too, seemed to sense the danger. Their advance halted, their screeches turning to high-pitched whines of fear. One by one, they began to scatter, fleeing back toward the pit from which they had emerged.
Amukelo's gaze snapped to the ground ahead of him as it started to crack. The trembling intensified, and then, with a deafening roar, the earth in the center of the valley erupted. A massive form burst forth, sending rocks and dust flying into the air. Amukelo shielded his face with his arm, coughing as the debris settled.
Emerging from the ground was a creature unlike anything he had ever seen—a Mountain Wurm. Its serpentine body stretched high into the air, easily matching the golem in size. Its scales glistened like polished obsidian, and its head was adorned with jagged horns that curved backward. The creature let out an ear-splitting roar, its massive jaws revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Amukelo backed up slowly, his eyes darting between the two giants. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears. Fear gripped him like a vice, his hands trembling as he clutched his sword. He was utterly powerless in the face of these colossi.