Beast Devourer: I Grow Stronger by Eating Monsters

Raven didn’t step out from between the trees.

Not yet.

The creature on top of the second wagon raised one of its forelimbs and brought its weight down against the wood.

CRACK.

The sideboard split.

The wagon tilted dangerously onto one wheel as the driver dropped the reins and tried to crawl backward. The horses, trapped in their harnesses, screamed and kicked at the ground with nowhere to run. One had white foam around its mouth. The other was bleeding from the flank, where three deep grooves had torn through skin and muscle.

Raven remained crouched behind the tree trunk.

There was no reason to rush.

The beast was roughly the size of a large bear, though the resemblance ended there. It moved on four thick limbs, the front pair disproportionately long, leaving its shoulders considerably higher than its hips. Its gray skin was hairless except for a line of black bristles running down its spine. Its head looked like an unpleasant combination of boar and reptile: broad jaw, two lower tusks curving outward, and small yellow eyes set deep behind bony plates.

But Raven barely paid attention to the teeth.

The arms were more interesting.

Every time it attacked, the flesh changed.

Raven got a better look when one of the caravan men tried to drive a spear into the creature’s side.

The monster turned.

Its left forearm shifted from gray to black. The transformation began near the elbow and spread toward the claws like accelerated crystallization. The skin thickened, angular lines formed across its surface, and for an instant the entire limb looked as though it had been coated in volcanic rock.

The spear struck.

CLANG.

Metal against stone.

The weapon bounced away.

The man barely had time to look surprised.

The creature answered with a swipe.

Raven saw the entire motion.

Shoulder rotation. Weight shifting onto the rear leg. Claw sweeping from left to right.

The man tried to block with the shaft.

Bad decision.

The wood snapped.

The impact lifted him off the ground and threw him into a wagon wheel.

The sound his back made when it hit was dry.

Raven didn’t need to get closer to know something had broken.

The monster roared.

The driver shouted something.

Raven understood the words.

That was strange enough to distract him for half a second.

”Harlan! Harlan, get up!”

Raven frowned slightly.

The man was speaking a language Raven had never heard before.

He was certain of that.

The consonants were too harsh, some vowels stretched in unfamiliar ways, and the structure of the words resembled no language he knew.

And yet...

he understood it.

Not as a translation.

He wasn’t hearing one language and then receiving another over it.

He simply knew what the words meant.

The interface appeared discreetly.

”World linguistic adaptation active.”

Common Veyrian language comprehension integrated during dimensional transition.

Spoken proficiency: Developing.

Raven read it.

Then looked back at the fight.

”Convenient.”

A woman emerged from behind the first wagon.

Reddish hair tied back.

Shortbow.

She fired.

The arrow struck the creature’s shoulder.

It penetrated only a couple of inches.

The monster turned toward her.

The woman stepped back.

Another man, considerably older than the others, grabbed her arm.

”Back, Mira!”

”It’s going to kill Harlan!”

”He’s dead!”

The man beside the wheel wasn’t moving.

Raven watched.

Four people still functional.

The driver. The archer. The older man. And a guard with a sword keeping his distance in front of the third wagon.

A fifth person lay farther back beside the road.

He couldn’t tell whether they were alive.

Against one creature.

The group had weapons.

But none of them seemed to understand how to get through its defense.

The beast wasn’t particularly fast either.

That helped.

High strength. Localized defense. Probably considerable endurance.

Raven was still injured.

Mana: eighteen when full.

Ember Spark wouldn’t penetrate that skin.

Not directly.

Predator’s Instinct still helped him read movement, but being able to anticipate an attack didn’t matter much if the attack covered enough space.

Raven could intervene.

He could also die.

The numbers didn’t work.

Not yet.

So he stayed where he was.

The archer fired again.

This time she aimed for the face.

Good choice.

The creature moved its head.

The arrow struck a plate above one eye.

Bounced.

The beast charged.

Not at the archer.

At the older man.

The man shoved the woman away.

”Run!”

Raven watched the creature advance.

Slower than a Nightfang.

Much heavier.

Each foot sank into the earth.

The man tried to move aside.

The monster caught him with its shoulder.

Threw him across the hood of the first wagon.

Raven heard the air leave his lungs.

The creature raised both front legs.

Both began to darken.

Stone.

Interesting.

Not permanent armor.

Activation.

Probably required mana.

Which meant limits.

The driver jumped from the wagon and ran toward the forest.

The creature ignored him.

The archer fired again.

”Over here!”

The arrow buried itself in a section of its side that hadn’t hardened.

The monster roared and changed targets.

Raven kept watching.

The woman was making the correct tactical decisions and was still going to die.

Not because she lacked courage.

Because she lacked resources.

Raven could have intervened then.

A distraction with fire. A flanking attack. Maybe exploit the wound.

But he was still missing a reason.

Then he heard another voice.

”Fifty crowns!”

Raven looked over.