Zah'Ratil, the current Sect Master of the Vasas, stood upon the black basalt edge of Vash'Rah, the throat of their volcano, their home for the past two millennia. He was gazing down, facing the furnace-hot wind that blew upwards from the belly of the volcano. He watched the molten lake ripple lazily, being much calmer than it usually was, almost as if the monster deep down was sleeping. In fact... it was. Slowly closing his eyes, his face moved towards the sky, facing the clouds and the falling snow that melted before it had a chance to get close to the volcano's mouth, turning into white steam above his head.

Once again, winter had come, and it was time to hibernate.

The cold, emanating from the distant mountain range that the Gods had erected in ancient times, had already chilled the air to such a degree that the moment the steam rolled away from the volcano's mouth, it turned to ice, falling to the ground. Winter was always dangerous... and it was only around this volcano that they could survive it.

The Vasa had learned that fact the hard way. However, they succeeded, and the fire became their inheritance. It was the reason for their continued survival, their doctrine, something that every subsequent Sect Master made sure to keep alive and boiling down below the surface. Which... was getting harder and harder to accomplish.

Zah'Ratil couldn't help but look back down one more time, sighing, shaking his head, knowing that the bastard down there was doing this for a reason. Whenever winter came, he slept, chilling the lava, hoping they would freeze to death. No matter... he could do nothing about it, and this winter was just like any other before it. They still had time, and they won't give up, not now.

"Close the barrier," he said aloud, turning away from the volcano, his voice traveling through the air on a magical wave, reaching its destination, only heard by those he wanted to hear it.

A moment later, from the base of the volcano, a transparent, reddish-colored magic barrier began appearing, reaching up toward the sky. It shimmered and then curved, spreading until it enveloped the entire smoking mountain, transforming it into a snow globe all of a sudden. After completing, it blinked out of existence, or at least, it would remain invisible, but Zah'Ratil could feel its presence as many others did so, those who were strong enough warriors.

But from the outside? The mountain became partially invisible, not to the seeing eye, of course, but to the senses of the monsters roaming the snow-covered jungles. It was a necessary step... as winter always meant the most chaotic time amongst the beasts.

The reason was simple and straightforward: the mountain range. An incredible amount of energy was radiating from within it, not natural, but something alien, something not from this world but from somewhere beyond this world. As humans, they had never noticed it, but since becoming people whose blood and heritage were irrevocably mixed with the monsters, they could also sense it.

It was a trap.

The Gods' magic, as Zah'Ratil believed, did not leak out accidentally, causing a frigid winter. It was a lure, like a fire pulling moths into the flame straight to death. It was a bait.

He had watched it play out his whole life. With the arrival of the snow, the beasts grew restless and began to change. The snow itself was faintly soaked in the Gods' energy, not enough to do anything but just enough to make the beasts notice the change. It excited them, and they began to hunt each other, devouring and battling like crazy. That's why they, too, had to retreat and meditate, controlling the blood in their veins, or they would be tempted by the call.

Typically, the creatures in this land lived independently and established small territories of their own. Yes, they fought multiple times over resources and energy to consume, but after a certain size, they were especially wary of spending what they collected. But when winter had come, and the snow was falling down on them? It was a frenzy.

Many, feeling as if they were starving, headed towards the mountains. Those who reached it usually died... There was nothing to eat there, and they either fought to death before the mountains or, if they survived the battles, they simply died of the cold and their injuries. Those that fell were then devoured by the small, new generation, allowing them to grow... It was a savage but controlled cycle, always keeping the monsters' numbers manageable.

It was the Gods' design, the Vasa believed. But that design also had a fault. Three, in fact.

"Not even the Gods can plan for everything," his predecessors had said. "That's why they put the formations there! It's just that time can erode everything, even the Gods' creations."

But Zah'Ratil did not believe in accidents or that the Six Gods could have made such a blatant mistake. Not at all... and he believed in patterns. In the past five hundred years, succeeding the last Sect Master who died in battle, he had seen it enough times. Those three Passes were opening and closing with deliberate, predetermined effects. He had even begun testing them a few decades ago, herding certain kinds of beasts towards it, seeing what creatures he could send forth, what worked, and what was killed by the Gods' Formation.

It showed him that he was right. He always marked some of the monsters, and one day, when they began dying quicker, signaling that they were being massacred en masse, when the next cycle came, he could herd more evolved, stronger ones into the Passes. Sadly, when he thought he could finally send one of their puppet variants, the Gods' Formation struck it down without hesitation... It seemed that the Vasas were not allowed to go home.

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Thinking about it, he looked towards the one Pass that led directly to where their promised child had come through only a few months ago. For two thousand years since their exile, they have been waiting for this moment. For two thousand years of watching winters come and monsters rise and die, they survived. All of those who lived through the fall of their Sect were now dead. All those teachings of revenge and a glorious, dominating return? Turned to ash... and their wishes were discarded a thousand years ago.

His ancestors had believed they could master the Gods' ways by combining the two sides of their Realm. The union of the human and the beast would be the key to opening the path to where the Gods reside... But they went too far, and the old Vasa Sect fell, leaving only a fraction of them alive, all who fled beyond the mountains. But they had a last prophecy from the strongest Vasa who ever lived and fought until his children fled. That his bloodline would one day call for them once again...

"Heh..." He chuckled, shaking his head, slowly beginning to walk, heading down from the volcano.

He didn't believe in it at first... but it did happen. Everyone felt it when the child... children, in this case, were born. After ample preparation, he had sent the dreams, the call. One rejected it, closing him out... but the boy. His mind remained open. Cautious, yes... but he did not outright reject his presence. He was willing to listen... and thus, he was the child of their prophecy.

... .... ......

Rashira had never seen a monster before, not in the traditional sense.

She'd heard stories and seen the pictures and some old remains, of course. There were enough tales of horrors with too many limbs, fanged beasts that tore through steel, and creatures that ate Khulmani riders with their horses in just one bite. But stories were stories.

For the past few days, she stayed at the newly built fortress, built at the top of the massive bump in the Markothian Pass, stretching between the walls of the narrow canyon. At the moment, she stood beside Lucca on the command platform, slightly behind and to the side. She didn't think it would happen so quickly... as winter had only just started a week ago. Her breath was caught in her throat as the first tremors rolled up through the walls of the fortress, and she laid her eyes on the first ever monster she saw...

"There it is," Lucca murmured calmly, as if he just spotted a lion or something... simple. But no, it wasn't an animal. How could it be?!

Gulping, feeling the tremors shake her stomach, their sound growing louder, Rashira leaned forward against the railing, her eyes trying to see it better. Snow and ice burst upward as the beast walked. It was easily fifteen meters tall, or maybe more, and continued to approach them. Sometimes, it stopped, trying to figure out what it was seeing... but it never turned around.

Soon, she could get a better glimpse of it, looking down at the monster from their vantage point. It had a body resembling that of an elephant, wide and barrel-chested, but its skin was plated with jagged bones, giving it the appearance of a living fortress. On its face, if it could be called that, there were three forward-facing horns, the center one glowing faintly blue, having obviously active rune marks on it. The other two tusks, on the other hand, weren't glowing... but they had some kind of inscription on them, the same way.

Suddenly, Rashira flinched, her heart hammering wildly. Who could fight something like that?! As if hearing her thoughts, the monster's clawed feet gouged into the slope as it tried to gain purchase on the ice, to climb it, and reach the other side, to reach Markoth.

"General..." She turned to Lucca, her lips quivering, "Are we not attacking?"

"Don't worry, we are. We were just waiting to see if it is a long-range variant or not." He answered, raising a hand and speaking an order into the small device he was holding.

From above, the Knight's Errand shifted a little as if preparing to provide support... but it didn't attack. It was one of the mechs attached to it that advanced.

The Shadow, Corinne's machine, detached from the underside of the ship, dropping smoothly, landing on the icy slope, skating down straight at the monster, and gaining incredible momentum in the process. As the machine kicked up snow and ice, Corrine drew its bone-forged sword in a single fluid motion, activating it and letting it crackle with electricity.

Sensing the danger, the monster bellowed, stomping and activating its own tusks, throwing similar bolts of lightning forward, ready to take on the Shadow, recognizing it as another beast. Rashira expected a clash, a loud one... She also expected the monster's size to matter, maybe let it out a magical blast, or do... something.

But it was too slow.

The Shadow was like a blur as it moved forward in a zigzag flash, using the speed boost from its skating maneuver, moving in low and fast, sliding around the beast's body, its 'spells' dispersed by her anti-magic formation. It took only one slice, and the left pair of legs that it stood on was separated from its body. With a painful groan, the monster collapsed mid-step, crashing face-first into the slope and sliding back to its base.

Not that it could moan for long, as Corrine's machine grabbed onto its body, flinging the mech onto its back with a loud crunch and another swing... One that severed its spine, entering its flesh through the joints of two bone plates.

The entire engagement took no more than six seconds... and it was done.

Rashira stared at the unmoving corpse below, still trying to understand what she had just seen. Her fingers were clenched around the railing, as the monster wasn't just dead, killed; it had been overwhelmed. It didn't even have a chance... Tilting her head, looking up at the Knight's Errand, she watched as it still had more mechs to deploy... There was the Leviathan, the Thunder, the Seeker... and they hadn't even needed to join the fight.

"Was that... it?" she asked, barely finding her voice.

"For now," Lucca's head tilted slightly. "That was not all. It's just a lone straggler testing the slope, I assume. It wasn't that big, so it had some kind of intelligence... Probably. Instinctive would be a better word for it, I guess. The real monsters haven't come yet." Finishing what he wanted to say, he turned to the waiting signal team and gave a sharp gesture. "Recover the body."

"..." Rashira blinked her eyes, watching as soldiers began descending, along with massive and long chains connected to the walls and rumbling mechanical engines that, when activated, started pulling up the corpse and the Shadow from the bottom of the slope. "Recover...?"

"Of course," Lucca glanced at her again. "The carcass. It'll be harvested, taking everything we can use. It tastes... good. So, it is a must."

Rashira looked back at the body, quickly reaching the top, and she was shocked at how quickly it was surrounded by Avalonian soldiers and Markothian volunteer teams. They were beginning to dismember it then and there, collecting the blood that was still flowing from its severed limbs...

At that moment, she realized something important... They didn't fear the monsters... Avalon was hunting them...

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