Book 7, Chapter 51 - The Eternal (1/2)

Book 7, Chapter 51 - The Eternal

The world was big and its denizens varied.

Beast Riders were not uncommon in the wastes. Lizards and leopards were just the beginning; rats, snakes, eagles – all relatively common to find. Now, though, it seems ant-riders were added to the list!

A whole army of them! How had they managed to domesticate these insects?

The ants alone numbered in the tens of thousands, with thousands more bearing riders. The ant soldiers rode insects the size of warhorses and carried weird hooked poles. Their left hands were all covered in gauntlets that tickled Cloudhawk’s sixth sense. He told his companions to be wary.

Ants continued to pour out from the valleys around them. It was impossible to know if there were thousands more just beneath their feet, ready to strike.

It was all a matter of scale. Even the most insignificant thing could be as deadly as a panther when blown up to monstrous proportions. These ants were covered in chitinous armor stronger than iron and their legs were like steel rods. An awful chittering sound followed them as the pincers around they maw snapped. The ax-like mandibles could bite through armor.

Ants were low-grade insects ordinarily, but these had evolved keen sight and extrasensory perception. They even had rudimentary intelligence, so they were smart enough not funnel in one by one. Instead they surrounded Cloudhawk and waited for the right time to strike.

They were almost ready. Cloudhawk’s pupils contracted and there was a flesh of red within. His mental energy was released, infecting the ants with fear and holding them temporarily at bay.

“We’re not here to fight. Get Belial out here.” The demon Elder was their target. He didn’t want to waste time squishing pests. However this welcoming committee was definitely under Belial’s control. A fight seemed inevitable.

Belial had spent the thousand years since the Great War wandering the earth. Centuries were spent sifting through Elysian lands and building his forces. Indeed Cloudhawk and his companions were a rare class of fighters, but against a swarm of this size there was still the chance they would be ripped apart. What’s more, the cunning Elder was probably lurking somewhere nearby, waiting to strike.

Cloudhawk wasn’t foolish enough to underestimate Belial. Not Gehenna’s greatest artisan.

But just as things seemed overwhelming some of the ants parted. They cleared a route to allow one of their leaders to emerge.

This rider bore a long spear and sat upon a particularly imposing giant ant. It was then Cloudhawk noted that the gear these riders wore was peculiar. They were covered from head to toe in gray cloth with their hoods raised. The rider’s face was also veiled so that the only thing Cloudhawk could see were his red eyes.

Strange. How could they tolerate the heat in those robes?

All of the riders were dressed the same; wrapped in gray with concealing masks, gauntlets on their left hands and hooked spears clutched in their right. They reminded him of wizards he read about in old books.

A strange guttural sound emerged from the leaders’ throat, like rough leather rubbing together. Cloudhawk paused… it seemed this ‘wizard’ was speaking, or trying to. Had they lost use of their vocal cords?

To him the sounds this creature made were meaningless. But that wasn’t so outside his experience – some mutants were so deformed that they couldn’t use their throats or mouths and had to adapt. So did that mean these riders were mutants? Was this some sort of tribe?

It was clear there was no way to understand what this rider was trying to communicate. Without another sound the wizard pulled forth a pitch black dagger.