The predator swiftly whipped it tail, sending the spike club at its end hurtling toward Sylrik, Vorrin, and Zorrik.
"Fall back!" I shouted.
The three of them narrowly evaded, leaping back just in time, the impact sending shards of stone scattering through the air.
The creature's glowing eyes burned with a frenzied intensity, a madness that sent a shiver down my spine. Now that it was closer, the scars covering its body came into view—deep gashes and puncture wounds as large as a hand, evidence of a recent battles it had barely survived.
"Aim for the wounds!" I commanded, raising my blade.
Vorrin was the first to act, his hammer held high as he charged forward. He swung with brutal force, the steel head slamming into the creature. The impact elicited a guttural roar as the beast staggered, its rage now fully directed at him. The beast reacted with terrifying speed, twisting its body and swiping a clawed forelimb at him.
Vorrin barely ducked in time, the claws whistling past his head and raking deep grooves into the earth.
Therra followed closely, steel sword in hand. He darted in from the creature's left, slicing at a deep gash along its flank. The blade found its mark, and black ichor sprayed from the wound. His blade bit deep, but the creature retaliated immediately, lunging toward him with its massive jaws.
The beast thrashed wildly, nearly knocking Vorrin and Therra off his feet with a sweep of its tail. Kaelith took the opportunity to rush in, his mace crashing down on one of the creature's hind legs. The impact cracked bone, and the predator stumbled slightly, its movements growing erratic. The beast roared in fury, thrashing wildly. Its tail lashed out again, catching Kaelith in the side and sending him sprawling into the mossy ground.
"Sylrik, hold its attention!" I called, moving into position.
Sylrik pounded his shield, shouting taunts at the creature. "Come on, ugly! Over here!"
The predator lunged at him. Sylrik held firm, bracing against the impact as I moved behind the creature. The sheer power of the impact drove him back a few steps, but he held his ground, refusing to yield.
Zorrik took the opportunity to strike, his lance aimed at the predator's eye. The sharp tip rendered the beast blind in one side. It lashed out blindly, catching Kaelith's arm with its claws and sending him stumbling back, blood seeping from the gash.
Vorrin returned to the fray, his hammer swinging with relentless force. "Over here, you ugly bastard!"
Sylrik used the moment to ram his shield into the beast's side, forcing it off balance.
Kaelith, recovering from the earlier blow, lunged with his mace once more.
I circled behind it, watching as the predator, now wounded and desperate, tried to fend off attacks from all sides. Its glowing eyes darted between us, searching for a chance to retaliate.
With a deep breath, I lunged forward, driving my sword into the largest wound on its back. The steel sank deep, and the beast let out an ear-splitting shriek.
Slowly, its massive form collapsed to the ground, the glowing light in its eyes dimming as the life faded from them.
The brood stood in silence, breathing heavily, weapons ready in case the beast moved again.
Finally, Therra broke the quiet, sheathing his sword. "That... was a fight."
Zorrik nodded, inspecting his lance. "Definitely earned tonight's meal."
Sylrik smirked, lowering his shield. "And you still owe me that back rub," he said, looking at me.
I exhaled, wiping the ichor from my blade. "How about I cook instead?"
A faint glow near the predator's fallen body. A lingering presense hung in the air.
I stepped closer, feeling its energy radiate toward me. Reaching out, I absorbed the essence.
**[Soul of the Frenzied Ravager Absorbed]**
With the battle over and the soul claimed, we decided to end our hunt. The Novathorns, with their impressive strength, hefted the massive carcass of the beast. Even so, it was no easy task.
We had to take multiple breaks on the way back. Each stop was filled with light banter and the occasional complaint.
Then, during one of our breaks, Vorrin frowned, his gaze fixed on the corpse. "There's something strange about this thing."
The others dismissed his observation with playful jabs. "Come on, Vorrin, don't start seeing ghosts now," Sylrik teased, leaning against his shield.
Kaelith grinned, tossing a pebble at him. "Yeah, focus on carrying it, not analyzing it."
But something about Vorrin's words stuck with me. Intrigued, I decided to take a closer look.
The scars covering the Ravager's body were even more apparent up close. Most were shallow and didn't seem deep enough to cause bleeding, yet there were countless tiny marks scattered beneath its coarse fur—subtle enough to go unnoticed at a glance.
As I studied them further, a peculiar pattern began to emerge. The scars weren't random. They were laid out in a deliberate, systematic arrangement, almost like an intricate map or design.
The more I examined them, the clearer it became: this wasn't just the result of battles or natural wear. It was as though someone—or something—had marked the creature with precision, like a well-planned, structured pattern. It reminded me of the neat and orderly layout of a meticulously designed city.
"Strange," I muttered under my breath. "You know anything about this, Veshira?"
**[No, I have never encountered anything like this before.]**
"Figures," I sighed. "You might be the most useless system ever. At least tell me you can remember all of this."
**[I've memorized it now.]**
After what felt like an eternity, we finally made it back to Glowhaven, greeted by the ever-watchful guards at the gate.
"You know the drill," one of them said smugly. "Fifty percent tax."
I scowled. "Unbelievable," I muttered, but there was no room for negotiation.
Our destination was a butcher shop owned by the headquarters—a place we hoped would process the Ravager quickly and fairly.
"Therra," I called as we entered. "Keep an eye on the butcher. Make sure we don't get swindled."
As the rest of us waited, my eyes wandered over the hanging slabs of meat lining the shop. My heart sank as I noticed the scars on several of them—faint, but unmistakable.
"Veshira, show me the photos again."
The screen flickered back to life, displaying the recorded images of the Ravager's scars. I compared them to the patterns etched into the hanging meat.
The realization hit me like a blow. They were the same—an identical arrangement, precise and deliberate.
"What the hell is going on here?" I whispered, a chill creeping down my spine.