The chase had been slow, the floating village lumbering through the air as the Boar King retreated toward its lair, a dense thicket of thorny bushes that clung to the jungle floor like a bramble-choked fortress.
The closer they came, the thicker the vegetation grew, gnarled branches twisting into cruel thorns, and Kael could see now why the Boar King's hide was so impenetrable. It had grown in this maze of natural armor, each thorn and branch toughening the beast, hardening it against any threat.
The Seraphs, with their swift, calculated movements, began to thin the outer ring of the bushes, their blades and tools humming as they sliced through the dense undergrowth.
Above, Valks circled, their keen eyes locked on the beast as it lurked in the shadows, wounded but far from beaten. The Boar King had retreated into its heartland, but it was not cowed. Even injured, it was a force of nature, and its eyes, gleaming red like embers in the dying light, promised a final stand.
Without warning, the beast struck. Massive and enraged, the Boar King charged, its tusks gleaming with the blood of past battles. In its fury, it tore free a cluster of thorny branches and hurled them through the air toward the floating village.
The attack was sudden, but the Seraphs were quicker still. They intercepted the branches mid-flight, splintering them before they could strike.
Kael stood atop the village, his heart pounding as he watched the carnage below.
"No wonder its hide's so thick," he muttered. "It's lived in the middle of these cursed thorns."
Beneath the dense thorny canopy of the boar king's territory, the battle raged. The wild brambles clung to everything, sharp and twisted, cutting flesh and metal alike.
The air was filled with the grunts and squeals of the boar herd as they charged in every direction, turning the battlefield into chaos.
The Seraphs and Valks on the ground moved quickly to evade the relentless onslaught, but the boars were everywhere—massive beasts with gleaming tusks, crashing through the undergrowth, kicking up dirt and thorns as they barreled toward their enemies.
Some of the boars, wild with fury, lifted stones and broken thorny branches with their tusks, hurling them toward the floating village that loomed above. The debris arced through the air, but most of it fell short, crashing into the thorny brush below.
The Seraphs, hovering in midair, were swift, intercepting most of the branches with their shields and precise movements, slicing through the debris before it could reach the village.
But the Boar King was different. It roared, throwing its head back in defiance, and with a great heave, launched a large stone high into the air.
The Seraphs moved to block it, but the weight and velocity of the stone were too much for them to handle. It soared past their defenses, crashing into the hull of the floating village. The impact echoed with a sickening crunch as wood splintered and groaned.
The stone had hit one of the sail masts, cracking it down the center and tearing through part of the hull, leaving a gaping wound in the village's side. The floating platform shuddered under the blow, its movements faltering for a moment as the damage took its toll.
"Damage to the hull!" Gwenbelle shouted, their voice crackling with a sense of fear.
Kael cursed under his breath. He had known the Boar King was strong, but this? The sheer force of the stone had taken them by surprise.
From his vantage point on the floating village, he could see the damage—a dangerous break in their defenses. They wouldn't be able to take many more hits like that.
"Seraphs, keep cutting the thorns!"
Kael barked, his voice hard with urgency.
"We need a clear shot!"
The Seraphs, still weaving through the air, did as commanded. Their blades, glowing faintly with energy, sliced through the thick brambles, slowly creating a path toward the heart of the Boar King's territory.
But the thorns were resilient, thick as a man's arm in some places, and every inch of progress was hard-fought. The boar herd, sensing their advantage, rushed the Seraphs on the ground, their hooves pounding the earth as they charged through the undergrowth.
The Valks darted between the trees, slashing at the boars when they could, but there were too many of them. Each time they struck one down, another would take its place, and the ground ran red with blood.
In the midst of the chaos, the Boar King hurled another stone. This one flew through the air like a missile, and though the Seraphs tried to intercept, it struck the village again. The hull groaned, the wood splintering further as the damage spread, and one of the sails was torn, flapping uselessly in the wind.
"We're taking heavy damage!" Gwenbelle called out, her crossbow in hand, her face set in determination.
Kael clenched his fists, watching as the situation grew more desperate by the second. The Boar King was too strong, and the herd was overwhelming the ground forces. If they didn't find a way to stop it soon, the floating village would be at serious risk.
"We need to take that thing down," Kael muttered, his mind racing.
Gwenbelle, standing beside him, nodded grimly.
"I'll keep thinning the herd," she said, loading another bolt into her crossbow.
"But we need to clear the thorns faster."
Kael shouted orders to the Seraphs, urging them to keep cutting the thorns even as they dodged the boars below.
They worked tirelessly, hacking away at the brush, but the progress was slow, too slow. Meanwhile, the Boar King roared in fury, its massive bulk crashing through the undergrowth as it charged at the Valks, determined to break their lines.
The Valks scattered, narrowly avoiding the Boar King's rampage. The beast's tusks gleamed in the fading light as it tore through the stakes and traps that had been laid in its path. Every step it took sent shockwaves through the ground, uprooting trees and shattering stakes that had been meant to slow it down.
But Kael wasn't ready to give up.
"Keep dropping stakes!" he ordered the Seraphs.
"Make it regret every step!"
The Seraphs responded, diving down with precision, dropping heavy wooden stakes into the Boar King's path. Each stake landed with a thud, some piercing the ground in front of the beast, others slamming into its flanks.
The Boar King roared in pain, its thick hide punctured in several places, but it pressed on, shaking off the blows with brute strength. The wooden stakes slowed its charge, but only just.
Gwenbelle fired bolt after bolt into the fray, targeting both the Boar King and its herd. Her crossbow sang with each shot, and boars fell beneath her deadly aim.
Still, the numbers seemed endless, the herd swirling around the Boar King like a living shield, protecting their ruler from the full force of the Seraphs and Valks.
Down below, the Seraphs continued to mow through the thicket, opening a path toward the Boar King, but it was clear now that the beast was preparing for its final stand.
The Valks swooped low, harassing the creature, diverting its attention, but the Boar King was no longer playing their game. It would not flee again.
But then, as the Seraphs cut deeper into the thorns, the Boar King began to rage. The dense brush that had once been its shield was thinning, leaving it more exposed. And Kael saw his opportunity.
"Now! Scorpios, target the Boar King!"
The scorpios fired, their bolts flying through the air with deadly precision. This time, the Boar King had nowhere to hide. The bolts struck its massive body, one after another, embedding deep into its flesh.
The beast let out a guttural roar, its eyes wide with rage and pain, but still, it fought on, its massive form crashing through the jungle.
And then, in a thunderous roar, it charged.
The ground seemed to shake as the Boar King barreled through the thinning brush, its massive form tearing through the trees and bushes as if they were nothing. Kael's voice rang out, commanding his forces to ready the final trap.
The Seraphs moved quickly, their focus unwavering even as the ground trembled beneath the weight of the charging beast.
Chains and bolts were loaded, stakes sharpened and set. The moment the Boar King crossed into their line of fire, it was met with swift and brutal precision.
Several chain bolts were loosed, each one finding its mark. They struck the Boar King's hide, piercing through the thick layers of flesh and fur, the heavy chains binding the beast's legs. Wood stakes followed, driven into its flanks, pinning the creature to the ground.
The beast thrashed violently, its tusks carving deep gouges in the earth, its bellows shaking the trees around it, but it was trapped. For all its power, for all its ferocity, the Boar King was caught.
It roared, a sound that echoed through the jungle, shaking the very leaves from the trees. A cry of defiance, of fury, of a creature that had ruled its domain and would not go quietly. It was a sound that made even the most hardened Valk pause, a reminder that this land, for all its beauty, was filled with untamed, deadly power.
And then, slowly, the roar faded, replaced by a heavy, labored breathing. The Boar King's eyes, once filled with rage, now dimmed. The chains tightened, and the stakes held firm. There would be no more battles for this beast.
As the last echoes of its death cry reverberated through the jungle, the smaller boars, the remnants of the Boar King's herd, scattered in all directions, fleeing for their life into the shadows, their spirit broken with the fall of their leader.
The battle was done, and as the dust settled over the torn battlefield, Kael took stock of the aftermath. The once-majestic floating village hung precariously in the air, its hull bruised and battered. The sail mast that had once been their guiding force now sagged, its fabric torn and twisted, remnants of the Boar King's assault.
He glanced down at the reports from his Seraph and Valk forces. Fifteen Seraphs were damaged—nothing catastrophic, but the wounds were visible, their once-polished forms marred by the boar herd's relentless charge.
The Valks fared no better; twelve of them were damaged, their sleek armor dented and scraped. Three of them had taken more severe hits, punctured by the Boar King's tusks—one through the chest, two others through the limbs. Blue liquid, viscous and unnatural, oozed from their wounds, dripping down to the ground in a slow, eerie rhythm.
Kael's gaze lingered on that liquid for a moment, his thoughts shifting to the cost of their victory. But there was no time for mourning. Already, the Seraphs moved with mechanical precision, setting about the repairs.
They worked in perfect harmony, patching up their comrades, welding cracks, sewing together the damaged hull of the floating village. A finely tuned machine, ready for its next command.
"Make sure the Boar King is finished," Kael ordered, his voice cold, though his heart still raced from the battle. Some of the Valks nodded and moved swiftly to carry out his orders, approaching the massive corpse with caution. Kael knew better than to assume the beast was dead until they confirmed it.
Gwenbelle, however, had a different idea.
"I'll make sure of it myself," she muttered, her crossbow still in hand. Her expression was fierce, determined, as if the Boar King's defeat was not enough until she had put her personal mark on it.
Kael watched her descend to the ground holding on a seraph, her stout frame moving with surprising agility for a dwarf. Her crossbow hung loosely at her side, but her hand never strayed far from it, ready to fire if the beast dared to rise again.
She approached the Boar King's massive, motionless body, its flank heaving with the last remnants of breath, its hide torn and punctured by chains, bolts, and stakes.
When Gwenbelle reached the beast's head, she hesitated for the briefest of moments. The Boar King's massive, bloodshot eyes stared blankly ahead, the fight finally drained from them. She raised her crossbow, aimed at the skull, and—
Something caught her eye.
From his vantage point atop the floating village, Kael scanned the battlefield below. The last vestiges of sunlight cast long shadows over the wreckage of the skirmish—the splintered trees, the torn-up earth, and the bodies of boars strewn across the ground like discarded stones.
Among them, the Boar King's massive carcass dominated the landscape, its once-imposing bulk now lifeless.
"Seraphs, focus on repairing the hull," Kael commanded, his voice steady.
"We need the village back in prime condition before we make our next move."
The Seraphs, always efficient, had already begun. Their mechanical limbs moved with purpose, sealing cracks and replacing broken boards with a speed that Kael found reassuring.
On the ground, the Valks worked with similar precision, dragging boar corpses into piles for processing and ensuring the perimeter remained secure. They were a well-oiled machine, and yet, even in victory, something felt off.
His eyes drifted to Gwenbelle, who stood near the Boar King's head, crossbow still slung over her shoulder. She was crouched down, seemingly inspecting the beast's enormous ear flaps. Kael narrowed his eyes, watching her carefully. She had been quiet since the end of the battle—not her usual fiery self.
"Odd," he muttered under his breath.
He hadn't missed the way she'd fought during the skirmish—fierce, unrelenting, driven by a need for revenge. It had made sense at the time.