The Monster King's Legacy

The next two days passed without incident, the winding forest road offering nothing more dangerous than the occasional squirrel darting across the path. The caravan moved in calm waves… rising with the sun, rolling forward at a steady pace, stopping near rivers or clearings to rest, and sleeping under the stars or canopies in quiet camps.

The group had grown more relaxed, their movements less tense. Some of them even began humming songs as they traveled, believing, half-seriously, that Lance's mere presence kept danger at bay, and perhaps they were right.

So far, no beast dared cross their path, no bandit leapt from the shadows… even the wind seemed to blow more gently… that could have been their imagination also.

Lance kept to himself for the most part, either riding in the back of a carriage or walking quietly beside them. His tall, broad frame and quiet confidence made him seem like a sentinel, untouchable and serene.

Through this moments of peace, the wind shifted on the third morning.

The dew was still wet on the grass as the caravan slowly awoke and began preparing for another day of travel. Some had started cooking breakfast, while others were checking the wheels and reins.

All of a sudden, unexpectedly, low, snarling growls spread across the encampment, startling everyone.

From the undergrowth a pack of beasts appeared, doglike creatures, large and lean, with patches of matted fur and exposed muscles. Their eyes gleamed with savage hunger, and their limbs were long and sinewy. Their claws curved like knives, and their fangs jutted from their mouths unnaturally.

"Forest hounds!" one of the guards in the group shouted.

The alarm spread quickly and quickly, weapons were drawn, and the guards and everyone else, rushed to form a defensive perimeter. The beasts came in fast, scattering across the campsite and lunging at whoever was nearest, commencing the attack.

Lance stood still a few metres away from the entire scene, arms crossed, eyes calm as he watched. He wanted to see how they fought the threat and perhaps, gauge their strength.

The guards fought bravely. Steel clashed with claw and tooth, men and women yelling commands and trying to hold formation. But the hounds were faster, cunning, and coordinated. One guard was dragged down, another knocked aside, while the older merchant, the caravan leader, tried to coordinate things, shouting above the chaos.

Watching everything go down, Lance sighed.

In the next instant, quietly, he vanished, reappearing in the middle of the fray.

A hound lunged at him almost instantly, as soon as he appeared, but he caught it by the throat with one hand and slammed it into the ground with enough force to crater the earth beneath its skull. Another came from the side, and with a kick, it flew like a ragdoll and slammed into a tree, spine snapped. Three more tried to swarm him, but of course, they didn't land a single hit.

In seconds, the beasts were dead, their twisted bodies lying around Lance like discarded toys. Silence fell, broken only by the heavy breathing of the shaken guards and merchants.

Lance turned to look at them. "You all held back better than I expected," he said simply.

The guards, clearly embarrassed, gave short nods and murmured thanks. Eran stepped forward, panting. "We should've done better... we will do better next time."

"Good," Lance replied with a faint smile. "But, let's hope there is no next time." He said.

Before they packed up to leave, the guards and merchants gathered around the corpses of the hounds. They pulled out small knives and began prying off claws and fangs, placing them carefully into bags.

Lance watched curiously, only vaguely realizing what they were doing.

"What are you doing?" he asked Eran, who was inspecting a particularly large fang.

"Harvesting," the younger man said. "Forest hound claws and teeth are valuable. Their fangs can be used in alchemy or sold to smiths to reinforce blades. Even the bones fetch a price if they're intact… but I none of us here have the skills to harvest those. If it were an adventurer, this would be like taking a shit, haha."

"Huh," Lance murmured, crouching to examine one of the claws himself. "I didn't know that. You mean adventurers go around doing this sort of thing?"

Eran nodded. "Yeah. In the human kingdoms, adventurers are the ones who take care of beasts, bandits, all that. Guilds give out requests, and the adventurers complete them for coin. Some live hand-to-mouth. Others rise to fame and fortune. Of course, the kingdom's knights also play a role some times, but not always." He explained.

The dumb looking guard who turned out to be smart walked over, wiping blood from his blade. "Some of the big adventuring groups are so powerful, they can rival a noble house in influence. Of course, that means politics gets involved. The nobles don't like adventurers getting too strong, but they need them to keep their cities safe. It's a tricky balance."

Lance looked thoughtful. "Are there any major names?"

"Sure," he answered, sitting down beside a wagon wheel. "There's the Bronze Flame, led by that woman from the south, what was her name, Eran?"

"What Eran? Delira," Eran said quickly. "She's famous for slaying a wyvern on her own. Then there's the Steel Gauntlet, based in the east, though no one really knows much of them. They operate like a military unit. Some say they've even got knights working with them secretly."

Lance listened intently, fascinated.

"And the guilds... how much power do they really have?" he asked.

"A lot," Eran said. "Especially in human lands. They can influence laws, cities, even local lords sometimes. There's one guildmaster in the western kingdoms they say turned down a noble title just to keep his independence."

Lance let out a small laugh. "Sounds like something worth paying attention to."

That afternoon, the group continued their journey, their spirits steadier than before. The morning attack had shaken them, yes, but they'd seen Lance in action, their faith only doubled. And more importantly, they had a reason to improve.

…

When they stopped again near another wide river clearing around late afternoon, the smell of cooked meat began to fill the air soon enough, as they hadn't eaten much in the morning. But, the moment they began setting up, the trees just had to rustle unnaturally.

Another pack of forest hounds appeared, this time smaller. They had circled around from the north, clearly stalking the caravan for some time.

Weapons were drawn again, and this time, the guards were ready.

Lance remained seated on a nearby rock, watching their fight as he picked a piece of meat that was ready to eat.

The caravan members moved more confidently. Their formation was tighter, and their coordination cleaner, this time, the hounds found resistance, and one by one, the beasts fell.

Within minutes, it was over.

Eran wiped the blood from his face and looked toward Lance, who simply nodded with approval. "Better." He said, avoided many words as his mouth was stuffed with meat.

The caravan cheered quietly, but they didn't waste time celebrating. The sun would soon begin to fall, and they had lost precious time. Rather than prepare another meal, the group simply drank from the river, packed up their things, and got moving again.

That night, they camped a little deeper into the trees than usual.

Lance sat beside the fire, turning one of the forest hound claws over in his hand.

To hear that the adventurers he once read in fiction really existed in this world, it was fascinating.

He was really considering going into a human kingdom and pursuing fame as an adventurer, but then again, for the time being, that was just temporary fascination.