FREE USE in Primitive World

He continued his hunt, his senses dialed to the maximum. The Ash Gray energy, now cleaner and sharper, filtered the auditory chaos, the dying screams behind him. He ignored the birds, the wind, the rustling leaves. He was looking for a specific voice… one that grated on his nerves like a stone scraping against bone.

He didn't have to wait long.

"...useless sack of shit! Hit it! Hit the legs!"

Sol stopped. A slow, cold smile curled his lips.

He knew that voice. It was the sound of arrogance. It was the sound of a man who thought he owned the world.

Vurok.

A cold, mirthless smile curled his lips beneath the shadow of the trees overhead.

"Found you," he whispered.

He altered his course, moving upwind. He climbed a low ridge, keeping low to the ground, his snake-skin cloak making him blur against the dark earth.

He crested the ridge and looked down into a wide, rocky depression.

There they were.

Vurok stood in the center, flanked by four lackeys…big, burly boys from the privileged clique. They were all armed with obsidian-tipped spears… weapons far superior to the wooden sticks the other kids were given. Obviously, privilege was in play.

They had surrounded a beast.

It was a Grath-Boar, also notoriously known as Spear Eaters. A massive beast found in this area. But this one was small… most likely a boarling, likely separated from its herd. Even as a kid… It was still the size of a black bear, weighing easily 600 pounds.

A dense block of muscle covered in layered bristles that looked like stone shards. Two jagged bone tusks fused with mineral deposits jutted from its jaw, glowing faintly as they struck the boys' spears.

"Surround it!" Vurok barked, standing safely behind his two largest goons. "Don't let it charge! Stab the eyes!"

SQUEEEAL!

The boarling thrashed, its hooves churning the dirt. It rammed one of the lackeys, sending him sprawling with a bruised rib, but the others jabbed their spears into its flanks.

Clang. Clang.

The spears sparked against the stone-like hide.

"It's too hard, Vurok!" one boy shouted, his face pale. "The spear won't go in!"

"Stop tickling it! Aim for the soft spots! Under the belly! Do I have to do everything myself?" Vurok screamed, his face red with frustration, yet he didn't step forward. He kept himself safe, barking orders like a king to his peasants.

Sol watched from the ridge, his eyes cold and analytical.

"Weak," Sol assessed.

Individually, Vurok's goons were trash. They were terrified, their movements sloppy. But together, under Vurok's whip-cracking command, they were a functional unit. They were slowly whittling the beast down.

"If I go down there now," Sol thought, calculating the odds, "I kill Vurok. But his four dogs will swarm me. I can take them… but I might get hurt, adding that to a panicked armored boar, I might reveal too much."

Even with his upgrades, that was a messy equation. He didn't want a brawl. He wanted a clean execution, without leaving behind clues that can come down to hunt him.

"They are weak alone, but together they are a problem," Sol noted. "I can't take them all at once."

He needed chaos.

Sol's gaze drifted away from the fight, scanning the surrounding forest. Grath-Boars were pack animals. "Spear-Eaters," the tribe called them. They aren't the type to abandon their young, in fact, Grath-Boars were notoriously protective.

So, he got a perfect plan, even though it was a bit risky but, it was worth it, he hurriedly moved away, looking for some clues.

Thrum.

And after carefully searching around for a while, he finally felt it before he heard it. A vibration in the soles of his feet. Deep. Rhythmic.

Thrum… Thrum…

Sol turned his head to the North, peering into the dense, dark thicket of iron-wood trees. Far away, his enhanced hearing picked up a sound… a low, grinding noise. Like boulders being rubbed together.

Grind. Snort.

"There," Sol whispered, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

"You like playing with the kid?" Sol murmured, looking toward Vurok's direction. "Let's see how you handle the mother."

…

He followed the tremors in the earth. The deeper he went into the iron-wood thicket, the heavier the air became. The smell of musk was overpowering here… thick, sour, and aggressive.

He stopped behind a massive tree trunk and peered into a clearing.

His breath hitched for a second.

"Holy…"

It wasn't just one boar. It was a sea of them.

At least twenty Grath-Boars occupied the clearing. They were massive, armored tanks of muscle and bone, rooting through the soil, sharpening their tusks on the iron-wood trees with sounds like grinding metal.

They were colossal… easily 3,000 pounds of muscle and rage. Their back was a mountain of stone-like bristles forming a massive crest.

And their "bristles" weren't just hair; they were thick, calcified spikes that formed a natural fortress on their back. But the most terrifying feature was their face. The tusks were crescent moons of yellowed bone, heavily mineralized and glowing faintly with a dull, earth-magic pulse. It breathed like a steam engine.

But in the center…

The leader, queen or whatever the hierarchy stood in the center of the clearing.

And man! She was a true monstrosity. She stood a full head taller than the others, her hide covered in ancient scars and patches of moss. Others in the pack seemed pretty scared of it.

Threat Level: Extreme, Sol's instincts screamed. This thing can destroy fortifications.

SNORT.

The beast exhaled, and a cloud of dust kicked up from the ground.

It seemed agitated. It was pacing, its massive head swinging low, sniffing the air. It was looking for something.

"You lost your kid," Sol realized.

He looked back toward the direction of the ravine. Vurok and his goons were about a few hundred yards away. The wind was blowing from the boar toward Vurok, masking the scent of the fight.

"Seems like you just need a little… push. I'll be the kind one and help reconnect a pitiful mother and son together." Sol grinned.

He didn't have a death wish. He wasn't going to fight this thing. He just needed to be the guide.

Sol scanned the ground. He picked up a heavy rock, the size of a melon.

He crept closer, utilizing the full power of the Cobra hide. He was silent. He was scentless. He was a void in the boar's perception.

He got within throwing range… fifty feet. His target was obviously Mama boar.

The boar paused. Its ears, tattered from countless fights, twitched. It sensed something was wrong, but it couldn't pinpoint the source.

Sol inhaled. He channeled the Vitality into his arm muscles, feeling them coil like steel cables.

"Hey, Mama!"

WHOOSH.

He hurled the rock with the force of a catapult.

CRACK.

The stone sailed through the air and slammed directly into the boar's sensitive snout. Even though it may not have hurt it, it was still a serious challenge to its dignity.

SQUEEEEEEAL!

The sound was deafening. It wasn't a pig squeal; it was a demonic shriek that stripped the bark off the trees. The boar thrashed, shaking its massive head, its eyes turning red with instant, blinding fury.

It spun around, looking for the attacker.

Every single boar stopped moving. Forty red eyes turned around furiously.

But Sol was already moving. He stepped out from behind the tree, intentionally letting the sun catch his silhouette for a split second waving his arm, before darting away toward the ravine.

"OVER HERE!" he shouted.

The boar saw him.

SQUEEEEEEAL!

The Matriarch screamed. It was a command.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The entire herd mobilized instantly. It wasn't a run; it was an eruption. Twenty massive beasts turned and charged.

The ground shook so violently Sol nearly lost his footing. The sound was deafening… the Bone-Rattle of twenty beasts synchronizing their charge created a sonic vibration that rattled his teeth. It was a frequency that induced pure terror in lesser creatures.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The charge began.

"Oh, shit," Sol whispered, realizing the speed of the thing.

Sol sprinted madly. He didn't look back. He didn't need to. The sound of the forest being demolished behind him was motivation enough. Trees were snapping like toothpicks. The herd was a landslide of meat and bone, and he was the pebble rolling ahead of it.

He didn't use his full stealth; he needed them to follow. He ran with everything he had, leaping over roots, ducking under branches, leading the unstoppable force of nature straight toward the ravine where Vurok was playing hunter.

"Come on!" Sol laughed breathlessly, his lungs burning, vaulting over a fallen log. "Come get me!"

He led the beast on a direct intercept course. He could hear the screams of the boarling ahead… high-pitched wails of pain.

The Mama Boar heard them too. And so did the others.

ROAAAAR!