Kael slid down off the dead carcass, his boots landing heavily in the marshy ground.
Blood pooled around the beast's head, dark and thick, seeping into the earth.
His pickaxe, still slick with gore, dripped onto the damp soil as he tightened his grip. His breath was steady, but his mind raced.
Where were the others?
Elysia. Ryker. The rest of the miners.
They had been right behind him when the creature attacked.
He turned sharply, scanning the surrounding marsh, but the only sound was the ragged rhythm of his own breathing.
Then, he noticed movement ahead.
A crowd stood at the village's edge, frozen like prey spotting a predator.
They were simple folk, dressed in patched fabrics and loose garments suited for the humid air.
Some carried wooden spears or rusted blades, though they made no move to use them. Others clutched their children, holding them back as if afraid he might charge forward like the beast he had just slain.
They are scared of me, Kael realized.
