Beast Devourer: I Grow Stronger by Eating Monsters

The first man Raven found was alive.

Barely.

And he seemed annoyed about it.

He was sitting against a stone wall on one of the quarry’s lower terraces, both hands gripping a thick chain that ended in a collar around his neck. He looked to be in his forties, with mud-covered work clothes and a shallow wound across one shoulder that had soaked half his shirt.

Beside him sat a beastkin woman with short ears and brown fur covering her forearms.

They shared the same chain.

Neither tried to stand when Raven appeared.

That was the first thing he noticed.

The second was the small broken vial hanging from the man’s belt.

Dark red blood covered his leg.

Not human.

Valeria arrived behind Raven and went still when she saw it.

”Mirehorn blood.”

Raven looked at the vial.

”That explains why everything that eats blood seems interested in them.”

The worker raised his head.

His eyes moved from Raven to Valeria.

The reaction was immediate.

”My lady...”

He tried to stand.

The beastkin grabbed him.

”No.”

”I have to—”

”You’re going to fall.”

The man tried anyway.

The chain pulled taut.

Raven crouched in front of him.

”Who put that on you?”

The worker looked at Valeria before answering.

Not Raven.

”Lord Orbrecht.”

Valeria frowned.

”Cassian Orbrecht?”

The man lowered his head.

”Yes, my lady.”

Raven looked at her.

”You know him.”

”I know the name. Minor House east of Greyhaven. Land, mining, agricultural contracts, and enough money to believe that makes them important.”

”Does it?”

Valeria tilted her head slightly.

”To them.”

Raven accepted that.

”How many workers?”

The man answered:

”Sixteen.”

”How many are still alive?”

Silence.

Raven waited.

”I don’t know.”

His expression didn’t change.

”What are you doing here?”

The worker swallowed.

”They told us it was a recovery operation. Dangerous work, but the pay would reduce our debts.”

Raven looked at the collar.

”By how much?”

”Three months per day.”

The beastkin gave a small, bitter laugh.

”If we survive.”

Valeria crouched beside the broken vial.

She didn’t touch it directly.

”And after that?”

The man looked confused.

”After we reached the quarry?”

”Yes.”

”They split us up.”

He pointed toward several tunnels.

”They gave us vials of blood. Told us to run along marked routes and make noise. The hunters would follow behind.”

Raven looked toward the black tunnel entrances.

”Bait.”

The worker didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Valeria stood.

Her expression had changed.

Not quite anger.

Contempt.

”Debt contracts allow hazardous labor. Not deliberate sacrifice.”

The beastkin looked at her as though she couldn’t decide whether that was a defense or an absurd distinction.

Raven understood both interpretations.

”I’m guessing there’s a clause,” he said.

The man laughed.

It turned into a cough.

”They added it this morning.”

Raven looked at Valeria.

She briefly closed her eyes.

”Of course.”

The beastkin pointed at her collar.

”They told us if we refused, the contract would double our debt for noncompliance.”

”And if you died?” Raven asked.

The man answered this time.

”Half the payment would go to our families.”

Raven remained silent for a second.

”Generous.”

The beastkin looked at him.

Raven added:

”I’m sure the corpse will be thrilled.”

Valeria exhaled through her nose.

The beastkin didn’t seem to know whether to laugh.

Raven wasn’t trying to make her feel better.

The situation was simple.

The Hollow Father cannibals had hung people from hooks and called them food.

Cassian Orbrecht chained people, covered them in blood, and pushed them in front of monsters.

The main difference seemed to be that the latter had paperwork.

Apparently civilization meant learning how to write a better receipt.

”Where’s Orbrecht?” Raven asked.

The worker pointed downward.

”Fifth terrace. He has guards. Hunters. A mage.”

”The Mirehorn?”

”We saw it once.”

That mattered.

Raven leaned forward slightly.

”Where?”

”It came out of a tunnel on the other side of the water. It was injured. Lord Orbrecht tried to cut it off, but something appeared behind it.”

”What?”

The man went pale.

”I don’t know.”

The beastkin answered:

”Big.”

”That’s not very specific.”

”We didn’t see all of it. Just one leg. Black. Then it dragged one of the workers into the tunnel.”

Raven thought about the tracks.

Four toes.

A lot of weight.

Larger than the Mirehorn.

Valeria crossed her arms.

”So Orbrecht is using workers to attract both the Mirehorn and whatever is hunting it.”

”Looks that way.”

”That could drive it even deeper.”

Raven looked down the slope.

”Yes.”

That irritated him.

Not because sixteen indebted people were being used as bait.

It was unpleasant.

It wasn’t his problem.

But Cassian was introducing noise, blood, and moving targets into a hunt Raven needed to control.

The Mirehorn was already injured.

Frightened.

Being hunted.

Now a nobleman was deliberately provoking it from several directions.

Every minute increased the chance that the creature would die inside an inaccessible tunnel, lose the gland Raven needed, or get eaten by something worse.

Valeria looked at him.

”You’re angry.”

”A little.”

”Because of them?”

She gestured toward the workers.

Raven didn’t pretend.

”No.”

The beastkin raised her head.

Valeria studied him.

”At least you’re consistent.”

Raven looked at the blood trails.

”Orbrecht is ruining the hunt.”

”People are being used as bait.”

”I noticed.”

”And that changes nothing?”

Raven thought before answering.

”If you want to free them, do it. I won’t stop you.”

Valeria looked at him more closely.

”But you wouldn’t help.”

”Depends.”

”On what?”

Raven pointed at the chain.

”Does getting them out of here improve my odds of finding the Mirehorn without twenty bodies running in every direction?”

Valeria took a second.

”Yes.”

”Then I’d help.”

The beastkin stared at him as if he’d just confirmed something unpleasant.

Raven had no problem with that.

He didn’t need a stranger to think he was a good person.

He needed her to stop attracting predators toward his position.

Valeria approached the chain.

”I can break the contract.”

The man’s eyes widened.

”My lady, that’s legally owned by—”

Valeria looked at him.

”Finish that sentence and I’ll start wondering whether you actually want to keep wearing the collar.”

The man shut his mouth.

Valeria placed two fingers against the rune.

Red mana appeared.

The mark resisted.

Then cracked.

Raven watched carefully.

”You can do that to any of them?”

”No. Debt marks use contractual blood.”

”And you control blood.”

”Offensively simplified, but sufficient.”

The rune went dark.

The collar dropped.

The beastkin looked at her.

”What about the debt?”

Valeria smiled without humor.

”It will still exist on paper.”

Raven picked up the collar.

”So now they owe money without the collar.”

”Correct.”

”Administrative progress.”

The beastkin laughed unexpectedly.

Valeria looked at Raven.

”Was that humor?”

”Not intentionally.”

”That makes it worse.”