Chapter 339: Djet Setting
The rearguard lines were a mess.
Ferro could see it from his perch atop a small cliff.
The thunderhorns - for lack of a better term - were great beasts, like bison but with massive clubs alongside their heads, the domes on the side covered in jagged, cube-shaped crystals of iron, which thundered and sparked when one thunderhorn cracked their horn against another’s.
"Pull up camp! Make for the tower!"
The cry went up as it became clear that the herd was riled enough to fight... all because Lanoch - his lionkin owner - wanted "some fucking beef."
It was the standard course of action whenever Lanoch and his band of warriors got into a huge fight, which they always did towards the end of a floor.
Run for the tower and hope nothing hostile was on the other side. The gaps between floors in the Duat were typically safe, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t encountered their share of floors with "edge dwellers."
As a concubine, Ferro wasn’t expected to do any serious lifting, so he spent the time doing what he needed to: watching Lanoch for any signs of weakness. But as he watched Lanoch down thunderhorn after thunderhorn - striking with blows so heavy he mulched some of their neckless heads - he found his mind drifting away from the despair he’d felt ever since Lanoch let Hifta die... or perhaps killed him.
The worst thing was not knowing, because Lanoch had been the only one in the woods with Hifta at the time.
How long has it been?
Time in the dungeon worked differently. And while it was more stable in the Duat - the largest and most lethal dungeon in the world - the differences meant that Ferro was now years older than he had been when he first entered the dungeon...