A Simple Hunt, A Deadly Truth

The request had been simple.

Investigate missing livestock.

That was it. No monsters, no bandits, just a local farmer complaining about something dragging his animals away in the night.

Elara stretched her arms over her head, walking beside Lucian along the dirt path leading toward the farm. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the open fields.

She sighed. "Not exactly thrilling, huh?"

Lucian didn't answer. His gaze scanned their surroundings, instincts sharp despite the job's simplicity.

Elara nudged him with her elbow. "You look like you're expecting something worse."

Lucian exhaled. "Simple jobs don't pay well. But no one posts a request for nothing."

Elara smirked. "See? You're starting to think like an adventurer already."

Lucian ignored her. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Something didn't feel right.

---

They arrived at the farm by sundown.

The farmer, an old man with a nervous gaze, greeted them at the gate. He spoke quickly, eyes darting toward the fading horizon.

"Happens every third night. My cattle—gone. No blood, no tracks, just… taken."

Elara smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

Lucian remained silent, his gaze following the treeline in the distance.

Something was watching them.

He could feel it.

---

They split up.

Lucian took the outer perimeter, scanning the ground for tracks. Nothing. The earth was undisturbed. Too clean.

Elara, stationed near the barn, hummed softly to herself as she reinforced their defenses with a weak barrier spell—just enough to alert them if something crossed it.

They waited.

The night deepened.

Then—a single sound.

A wet, heavy exhale.

Lucian's fingers tensed over his weapon.

The wind shifted. The scent of iron and decay rolled in.

Then—silence again.

Lucian turned sharply toward Elara. "Something's here."

And then—the sky cracked open.

---

A shadow descended from the treetops, landing in the field with a sickening crunch.

It wasn't a wolf.

It wasn't a bandit.

It wasn't anything they had prepared for.

Towering, with too many limbs, too many eyes, its skin a writhing mass of shifting muscle—it moved like something that had forgotten how to be alive.

It turned toward them, its mouth splitting open in a silent, gaping grin.

Elara whispered. "…That's not a normal monster."

Lucian's pulse remained steady.

Finally—something worth taking.