The Untold Forest Elisa Menz (classic literature books .txt) 📖

spacious cavern, he crouched to analyze the scene. Most of the villagers meandered in there. Elder women gathered around bonfires, preparing a large meal.

Others took care of the youngest, the remaining space occupied by sickly looking teens tanning leather or repairing tools.

No activity appeared out of the ordinary, but for Regn’s sharp eye, it became obvious something was wrong. Half the tribe seemed to be missing, and they couldn’t be hunting at this late hour. The ones around looked too young or too weak to be hunters or warriors.

Hidden in the shadows, he swept the area until he spotted women carrying bowls with food, disappearing into a narrow corridor, deeper into the mountain. Regn slipped past the tribe and followed the women down the winding hall. He descended for several minutes, and the temperature rose until it was unbearable.

How can they live here? When he turned a corner, the stench of blood and feces came from the depths. The thick atmosphere sickened him. He heard a permanent murmur in the distance, raising into a deafening pandemonium.

So this is where they hide. He still couldn’t see anyone, but the noises were unmistakable. Battle cries. Clash of weapons. The savage growls of men fighting hand to hand. Regn turned away from the hallway, finding a discreet place to observe from the heights.

Gathered in the cave, hundreds of men engaged in violent combat throughout the arena. Blood covered the muddy ground, and the air was unbreathable. They had embedded iron bars in the cave walls to contain dozens of ferocious beasts. Bears and werewolves roared and clawed in their confinement. He gaped as several men opened one cage. With spears and whips, they led a colossal-sized bear to the middle of a fighting pit.

There stood a somber man. Scars, mud, and dried blood covered his bulky body. Facing on his own a threatening bear, he didn’t flinch. He is not planning to fight with his bare hands, isn’t he? The half-breed people were sturdy, but fighting an animal of that size, all alone and without weapons, was foolish.

The bear attacked first, throwing its heavy body towards the unprotected man. With impressive speed, he got out of his way and avoided damage before striking its side. Roaring in pain, the bear charged and clawed at the man before he pulled away.

The attack tore through the flesh of his forearm, forcing him to step back. Deep gashes marred his skin. The man grimaced, but the fight carried on. A crowd surrounded the contestants, void eyes watching.

This was madness. If the mountain half-breeds thought about making war again, dying in their caves, fighting bears did not seem to be the best idea. Something else was happening, and Regn forced his sight to understand what he was witnessing. A red cloud of dust rose from the ground, sinuous and unnatural. It was not dirt; that much was clear. This dust moved strangely, wrapping itself around the fighter’s limbs.

Regn watched in awe as the dust converged on the open wounds. The man shivered, bulging veins protruding on his face. Regn was so entranced by the dust; he flinched when the man let out a heart-wrenching scream. He must have been in awful pain.

The bear also sensed the strange aura surrounding the man. It kept its distance, growling. After a few agonizing seconds, the man stopped shivering and shook his arms, dust falling to the ground. It healed his wounds, leaving no trace of scars.

What the hell? A beastly roar echoed in the cave, startling Regn. He hardly followed the movement with his eyes. In a flash, the man crossed the fighting pit and stuck his hands around the bear’s enormous neck. The sound was sickening. With one powerful movement, he tore off the beast’s head.

He held the severed head high, claiming victory while bathing in its blood. Around him, the roaring cries of the mountain tribe became deafening. No... no, no, no! Heart hammering in his chest, Regn wanted nothing more than to leave this awful place. He had never seen anything so horrifying, and the dense air of the cave only helped to increase his fear.

The mountain half-breeds were planning a new attack. The weapons, the war painting on their faces. It was the same as years ago; only now they had powers beyond belief. Whatever it was, the dust healed that man’s wounds and gave him amazing speed and strength.

The same reddish dust rose all over the base of the cave, covering each of the deranged men and women. Violent fights resumed in the hall, but the beasts now cowered in fear.

He had to warn the matriarch and the other tribes.

Regn scurried out of the darkness of the caves with haste. He left the rain behind, along with the mountains. Despite the growing distance, in his mind, he still heard the echo of the voices chanting the name of the man who was, without a doubt, their new leader.

A new conflict would shatter the tribes. It was unthinkable to go through war and death all over again. The task was up to him now, to spread the word and allow the villages to prepare.

He traveled for days, resting only for a few hours to arrive as soon as possible. With the last lights, people gathered around the fires, sharing dinner as usual. Regn took a deep breath, exhaustion weighing his limbs, and headed to the matriarch’s hut.

The cheerful voices of the tribe sounded hushed and nervous. He soon realized something strange was happening.

An atmosphere of excitement covered the village.

Around the matriarch’s hut, an unusually sizable group gathered, pretending to eat while eavesdropping. The matriarch’s voice reached him, conversing with someone he could not see. Everyone else, sitting farther away, kept their attention fixed on them.

Some stranger must be visiting. That explained their odd attitude. Regn smiled at them. He was so close, but no one noticed him, mesmerized as they were with their visitor. Unfortunately, his news could not wait. The crowd dispersed, and his eyes landed on