The next morning the boys woke to a foul stench emanating from the corner where the injured boy was shivering violently. One retched and hurried to exit the lean-to, quickly followed by the rest. James gagged as well, before forcing down his bile and going to the injured boy.

  His back was black and green and his wounds, rather than closing up, were weeping pus and blood. Bits of leaves and dirt were matted in the disgusting mixture. The boy was mumbling deliriously, seemingly unaware of James’s presence as James hauled him to the creek to try to clean his wounds again.

  The boy came back to his senses, somewhat, as James fed him breakfast back in the lean-to. He weakly grabbed the Smith’s arm. “D-d-don’t… don’t go in… the mine. Don’t go… in the mine.” he mumbled weakly, over and over again.

  “Rest here, try to keep your strength up.” James replied, but the boy did not react to James’ words.

  “Don’t go in the mine… don’t go in the mine… just you, don’t go in the mine…” he mumbled repeatedly.

  James, now running slightly late from how long it had taken to tend to the boy’s wounds, found Coin waiting impatiently outside the mine with his bag.

  “Hurry up and get over here, Smith!” he called impatiently. “I don’t got all da-”

  The slaver was interrupted by a blinding flash from outside the camp in all directions, then a sharp CRACK sound followed immediately by the earth shaking violently. The slaver and James both lost their balance and fell, the slaver on his back and James on all fours.

  “Monsters!” yelled one of the slavers on watch.

  “Earthquake!” yelled another, redundantly.

  Faint screams came from the mine and soon the slave boys could be seen trying to crawl out, slowed by the still shaking earth.

  Finally, there was a shrieking roar and a large thump as a massive creature landed behind the Smith. He saw Coin in front of him pale and start scrambling away leaving his bag behind. James turned and looked and saw what looked like a giant crimson lizard, about three times as tall as himself, with wings instead of forelegs and a long tail waving back and forth violently behind it, snapping trees like twigs.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “W-w-wyvern!” Coin shouted as he fled towards the slavers’ area of the campsite.

  James scrambled after him, desperate to get away from the roaring wyvern. But as the earthquake finally started to settle down, the whip-using slaver was snapping his whip around himself in almost all directions as large, furred animals pounced at him repeatedly. With drab, grey-brown fur, they blended into the dirt of the barren hillside and were difficult to keep track of as James stumbled forward.

  “Dire wolves!” the whip user shouted, barely managing to keep the wolves at bay with the extended range of his whip.

  James shot a look over his head at the wyvern and noticed there were also more of the wolves behind it, spreading out to the sides as though to surround the camp. Having managed to stagger a ways towards the slavers’ area of the camp, following Coin, he found himself near the smelter and his forge. Remembering his [Hammer Strike] technique and thinking of defending himself, he lunged for the forge, scooping up all his tools at once.

  “Augh!” the whip-using slaver cried. James glanced in his direction and was shocked. One of the wolves had managed to bite and latch onto the slavers’ arm, and in the fraction of a second James was looking he saw another wolf lunge for and successfully tear out the slaver’s throat, reducing his cry of pain to a gurgle of death.

  All thought of self-defense fled from James’ mind. HIDE. That was the only goal he had now. He clutched his tools in one arm and with his other hand grabbed his green iron anvil, instinctively thinking to use it like a rock or hunk of metal, and dashed towards the entrance to the mine. Anywhere away from the wolves. As he darted forward, he heard a roar and tripped, sprawling in front of the mine entrance. To the side he saw the rest of the slaves trying to run into the forest, led by the grey-eyed boy.

  A gout of flame played over what seemed like everything. All the tents and the lean-to caught fire almost instantly. The Smith never did see what became of the boys after the all-consuming fire faded.

  In front of James was Coin’s bag. It was a proper magic bag rigged up like a backpack, apparently enchanted (else how could it contain all their mining equipment?), and without thinking he snatched it up, throwing his tools in it, freeing his hands. He scrabbled forward on all fours until he got to the entrance of the mine. Without looking back, he ran forward in a crouch, thinking of nothing but getting away from the monsters behind him, no thought of heading for a dead end…

  Then, the earth shook again, even more violently than before. A voice he recognized as the injured boy’s cried out, louder than anything the Smith had ever heard in his life, even louder than the crashing of Jared’s forge before obtaining his [Sound Resistance] skill.

  [CALAMITY]

  With a crashing sound, the mine shook and the hillside slid down, burying the entrance to the mine and cutting off all sound from the outside. A second later, another sharp crack sounded, and a dim light spilled into the mine from farther in, where James had just yesterday been expanding the tunnel.

  For a few seconds, James stayed frozen, crouched down. Then, there was a soft clicking sound and the shackles around his wrists, the bracers that blocked all magic usage and were apparently tied into the wards, unlocked themselves and fell off his wrists. This startled him and he twitched so hard he fell over. Then, in the newfound stillness and silence, he heard a soft scraping of claws on the tunnel floor.

  A monster.