Chapter 114: Sentinel of the Southern Gate


    The morning air was brisk, the cold biting yet invigorating as Sena stepped out of the modest shed that served as his new home. He wore a patched-up farmer’s outfit meant for the weather, the fabric snug over his broad, muscular frame. A straw hat perched on his crimson hair, shielding his glowing, crimson eyes that surveyed the area with sharp intent.


    The scenery was rugged but beautiful, a mix of thin trees, wide tree stumps, and rolling hills that spread toward the towering mountains in the distance. Sena inhaled deeply, the sight of the mountains soothing him in a way nothing else could. Their unyielding presence helped keep the battle-craving beast within him restrained. The mountains grounded him, tethering his restlessness to the earth as he fought against his constant urge for combat.


    As Sena picked up his axe and walked to the dirt road connecting his shed to the nearby village gate, the sound of creaking wood caught his attention. The tall stone gates opened slightly, allowing a small group of armed men to step outside. At the center of the group was a frail-looking man with a mullet and a pencil-thin mustache—the mayor of the valley village. His fine coat looked out of place amidst the rough terrain, and his eyes betrayed his discomfort.


    Sena’s lips quirked slightly as the mayor approached, flanked by guards who looked far too uneasy for their station. “Mayor,” Sena greeted simply, his deep voice carrying easily over the stillness of the surroundings.


    The mayor’s voice was tense, his tone trying—and failing—to mask his unease. “Sena, I see you’ve been keeping busy. The trees near the Southern gate have thinned considerably. It’s been... reassuring.” He gestured vaguely toward the forest. “Since your arrival, the number of creatures testing our walls has decreased significantly.”


    Sena nodded, leaning casually on his axe. “Guess they don’t like what they see on this side of the gate.” His calm tone held a subtle undertone of amusement.


    The mayor’s guards shuffled nervously, their gazes flitting between Sena and the forest beyond. The guards weren’t new recruits, but even they couldn’t suppress their unease around Sena. His towering presence and the sheer strength he exuded made them instinctively wary. To them, the man standing before them wasn’t ordinary—not by a long shot.


    The mayor adjusted his coat, clearly trying to regain his composure. “Well, whatever the reason, the village has noticed the improvement. Your efforts here are appreciated.” He looked over at the cleared area near Sena’s shed. “Again, you’ve done impressive work removing the trees, and I trust you’ll continue, and one day the southern gate will be as safe as our northern one.”


    Sena simply nodded again, his expression calm. “As long as you bring me sharp tools, good food, and warm clothes, I’ll keep at it.”


    The mayor glanced back at the guards carrying a crate filled with supplies. “I’ve brought some fruits from the valley orchards. I’ll see to it that you get more tools and clothing next time.”


    “Good,” Sena replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “This axe is dull enough to carve butter. If you want these trees gone, I’ll need better.”


    The mayor gave a forced chuckle, clearly eager to end the conversation. “Of course, of course.” He signaled his guards, and the group retreated toward the safety of the village gates.


    Sena watched them leave, their nervous glances back at him almost amusing. He didn’t blame them for their unease. They were just doing their job, and to their credit, the mayor was doing what he could to support the village’s development. Still, the man’s discomfort around him was obvious, and Sena couldn’t help but shake his head as the gates closed with a heavy thud behind them.


    With the mayor gone, Sena turned back toward the forest, hefting his axe once again. He walked up to a tree, feeling the rough bark beneath his hand. The axe swung high, and just as it was about to bite into the wood, a low, guttural growl echoed from the depths of the forest.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Sena froze, his crimson eyes narrowing as the sound washed over him. A faint wisp of smoke escaped his nose, the beast within him stirring. His grip on the axe tightened, and a sharp grin split his face.


    “Well, well,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble. “Looks like I’ve got company.”


    Without hesitation, Sena turned away from the tree and sprinted toward the forest, his powerful legs propelling him forward like a predator chasing its prey. The growls grew louder, the air thickening with tension as he delved deeper into the woods.


    The clearing behind him was quiet once more, save for the rustle of the wind through the thinning trees and the faint echo of Sena’s footsteps fading into the shadows


    Deep in the forest, the air felt colder as the Spike Fish—a grotesque amalgamation of amphibious features and cruel predation—scuttled about on its frail, human-like legs. Its scaly body shimmered faintly in the dim light, reflecting a rusty, sickly hue. Lifeless, unblinking fish eyes gazed blankly while its snail-like appendages swiveled atop its head, scanning the area jitterily, their black tips twitching with a grotesque sense of awareness.


    The creature paused and regurgitated a vile mess of semi-digested flesh, the stench of rotting meat fouling the air. Among the slimy remains, there were remnants of creatures and perhaps human victims—a grotesque testimony to its feeding habits. The Spike Fish’s tail—a metallic extension ending in a ball of cruel sharp spikes—twitched nervously as it began to re-ingest its rancid meal, an eating ritual that boggled the brightest minds.


    The temperature began to climb, disrupting the chilling tranquility of the forest. The Spike Fish raised its head, its snail-like eyes jerking frantically. It felt the oppressive warmth closing in and began to panic, shoveling the mess back into its maw in a desperate attempt to retreat into its feeding ritual.


    Suddenly, the thundering sound of footsteps echoed through the forest. Each step brought with it a palpable rise in temperature, causing leaves to curl and dry, and moisture to evaporate into faint steam. Sena burst into the clearing, his crimson hair catching the dim light like a flame, and his muscular frame exuding an aura of heat that distorted the air around him.


    His forehead bore a single horn glowing red-hot, radiating intense temperatures that seemed to pulsate in rhythm with his heartbeat. His hands and forearms glowed like tempered iron, the chains wrapped around his fists sizzling as if freshly forged. Sena’s torso was bare, his farmer’s clothes having burned away during his run, leaving only scraps hanging from his waist.


    Sena’s crimson eyes locked onto the Spike Fish, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. Smoke puffed from his nostrils as he exhaled deeply, his body emanating waves of heat that caused the grass beneath him to smolder. “Another one?” he remarked, his voice filled with a dangerous mix of amusement and anticipation. “This forest is getting lively.”


    The Spike Fish lashed its tail forward with alarming speed, the spiked metal ball whistling through the air as it aimed directly for Sena’s chest. But Sena stood his ground, unflinching. With a burst of movement, he grabbed the tail mid-swing, the spikes digging into his glowing hands. A faint hiss of burning metal rose as the heat from his grip warped the tail’s surface.


    The creature struggled, thrashing wildly, but Sena’s grip was unyielding. He let out a low chuckle before raising the Spike Fish high into the air with ease. “You’re not much of a fighter, are you?” he said mockingly. Then, with a grunt of effort, he slammed the creature into the ground.


    The impact sent tremors through the forest floor, and a sickening crunch echoed through the trees. Sena lifted the creature again, slamming it down once more, and again, each collision reducing the Spike Fish to a battered pulp. The ground became stained with its viscous blood and chunks of scaly flesh, the air now thick with the metallic stench of gore.


    As the Spike Fish’s movements stilled, Sena released the mangled tail, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. The spiked tail had detached from the creature’s body, lying in a pool of blood and viscera. He crouched down, wiping off the gore with a ragged scrap of his burned clothing, and grabbed the tail on the ground.


    The weapon-like object gleamed dully, an unusual hybrid. “This... might come in handy,” Sena muttered, a pleased smile curling his lips as he inspected the strange artifact.


    The forest was quiet now, save for the crackling of dying embers left in Sena’s wake. The mountains loomed in the distance, their silent grandeur serving as a stark contrast to the violent scene that had just unfolded. Wiping his hands on his singed pants, Sena slung the metallic ball over his shoulder with the ease of someone carrying a sack of grain.


    “Not bad for a morning’s work,” he said to himself, his voice filled with satisfaction as he turned back toward the village gate. Despite the carnage, the grin on his face showed he relished this new life. In a world where danger lurked around every corner, Sena had found his purpose—and his strength—amidst the chaos.