The patient was heaving, the spasms of his body growing harsher with each passing second, and Mato didn't have the strength to still him. It was a misfire of tiny cells that made up the inside of the head, They were neurons, though Mato knew no such word. He could see this, but he could not stop it, as the problem was integrally wrapped around the man's very being. In order to fix this man, truly stop the spasms that is, he would make the man immobile and probably ruin his life.

The patient would try to recall memories later and would be unable to recall them in their entirety. He had seen it before, and it drove the subject crazy. If he had more time, he could suppress the brain's neuron firing, induce a coma, and then. . . No. The problem could be solved, but his brothers would not allow it if it couldn't be fixed immediately. The patient's family would be too impatient. They would claim Mato was possessing the man, and he would be forced to stop.

The hand slowly withdrew from the man, and Mato's eyes opened in sync. He was surprised to find who he had imagined as a man was in fact of only twenty. He glanced up at his brothers, their brown cloaks hanging over their thin frames, standing in a semi circle around him. They weren't meeting his eyes; They never did anymore.

"He won't survive. There is nothing I can do, for God has willed it." As the words left his mouth, a small headache grew from exertion. It was a lie, and he felt a small wound appear on the back of his hand; the one he wasn't treating with. Mato was quite sure it wasn't his God's will, and the belief that it was a lie led to the injury. Mato had seen the man's life in those firing of neurons, the small electrical pulses. Mato had forced each one to fire in a specific, yet natural order. Tests and responses at first, before enveloping into memories. Young at first, living in a world that seemed unfair to the core. He grew up poor, and was going to die poorer. The man had struck his head a couple hours ago, and the broken blood vessels had destroyed parts of his brain. The neurons misfired rather consistently from that point on, causing epileptic fits, though Mato knew no such word.

The monks nodded their eyes resting on the ground. It seemed to be quite interesting for they kept their eyes cast downward as they filed out of the room. Mato followed them out, his white and blue robe a sharp contrast to their brown. He slipped his gloves on one at a time, his eyes falling to the ground as well. His shoes were simple black things, more socks then shoes with no hard bottom. It didn't bother Mato though, as he walked only on the stone floor of the monastery.

Jeremy, one of the younger monks, was directly in front of Mato, and Mato hated him. At a touch he had learned of Jeremy's true nature. If he knew the word Mato would have called him a psychopath. All he did know was that Jeremy lacked empathy for others a good ninety percent of the time. It was true that Jeremy could turn his empathy on and off, though he rarely turned it on. At first Mato liked him, mostly because the man had shown interest in Mato outside of his strange power. The man was playing everyone like a puppet, though, and had comforted Mato out of his own self interest. A touch and the firing of a few neurons had been all it took to know Jeremy better then he knew himself.

The hallway was stone from floor to wall to ceiling. The underground chamber he preformed his healing inside of was cool, and consistently that. The hallway was thin enough that the monks walked single file out of preference more then tradition. They approached stairs, and the group slowed down a bit as they climbed them. Mato took the steps two at a time, having to pause a bit after doing so to allow the monks to climb

The worst thing was that he knew why they didn't like him. It wasn't for anything unreasonable, it was actually quite simple. Mato didn't seem like a gift from god, but instead a mistake. An abomination, who rarely healed. It seemed to them he purposefully withheld his power when he could fix them, as if he enjoyed watching them die. It wasn't true, Mato never savored the defeats he faced, at least when the patient had been loyal to the church. At the same time he couldn't force them to believe him, he didn't know how. The only way he knew was to put each of them in a coma, and redesign their brains in a way that would make them like him. They would never remember not liking him, but that would kill him. Instead, he had to make a small change.

As the monks parted ways Mato followed the eldest of the seven. He had an idea that might fix the problem, though it could backfire. He decided it was worth the risk, though, and it was a relatively minor change. Mato removed his right glove, and reached out to touch the old man's hanging hand. Before the brother could so much as gasp, Mato had altered his brain structure. Every time the brother saw Mato's face he would feel a rush of endorphines and dopamine. Mato gasped before the man did, and almost collapsed from how much it drained him to alter the man. One of his knees hit the ground hard, and Mato knew a bruise would form. He was short of breath, and he had to recover now.

His name is Sean, Mato thought dully, as the decrepit man looked back at him surprised. 'Are you feeling well? He asked, in a concerned tone. Sean was one of the nicer ones, and Mato hated having to affect him first, but he was truly the best choice. Mostly because he wouldn't report a single touch to the head monk, but for other reasons as well.

A quick shake of the head turned into Sean leading him to his bed, even going as far to support Mato's hanging frame. Mato laid down slowly, relaxing as his head touched the pillow. He wouldn't sleep for a while, his mind was too crowded. What would come of this test? Could he be harmless in his changes? No. Something would go wrong sooner rather then later, that Mato was sure of. It had been quite a large change to the brain structure, even if the overall effect was small. After a while the young boy's eyes fluttered shut. The boy didn't wake up in Nymia though. He instead woke up in Olias.


Bread was baking in a room not too far from Mato and the scent was intoxicating. The nightmare was soon forgotten in the rush to get up, and buy himself food. He wasn't the first to wake, though he was one of them. He bought bread and soup without a second thought, the few bronze coins he had tumbled out of his coin purse hastily and he was handed a large chunk of bread and bowl in exchange.

A greedy bite into the bread led to the cheese and garlic filling his mouth. He dipped the bread before the next bite, the beef stew clinging well to it. Mato sighed happily, and ate the rest of his meal slowly, taking care not to spill on the easy-to-stain white outfit he was adorned in. He was finished within about two minutes.

Mato glanced around the waking inn, and pulled his cloak tighter around himself, standing up slowly. He was glad to stand out at least a little bit less than usual, as bright clothing seemed to be common. He walked to the door, and exited the inn into the waking city. It was quite quiet actually, nothing like Nymia in that regard. The activity in the streets was pretty subdued, Mato noted as he walked them, his gaze flickering from person to person curiously. He was looking for a library currently, as the monastery he hailed from did not have one. Despite the distinct lack of proper schooling, Mato had learned a lot from going through people's heads, and was probably considered to have a college level education through sheer amount of information he possessed. Unfortunately he could rarely put words to feelings or ideas without seeming very daft.

Unfortunately in no way did Mato look natural in the setting he was occupying. Mato probably appeared to be a tourist if viewed by an observer, as he stared at every interesting thing within sight. It was quite the sight though, as magical marvels dotted the cityscape about him, and Mato wasn't quite ignorant enough to think any of it was built using any scientific means. Mana flowed in every nook and cranny of Nymia, powering anything and everything that needed to be. Mato's eye caught on a shopkeeper, and he approached him timidly, his eyes scanning the man quickly.

"Excuse me?" He began, getting the man's attention. "Do you know where the nearest library is?" His voice wasn't very deep, and he seemed very unsure of himself; Not just based on his voice, but also with how he carried himself.

The sound of ringing glass filled the hall as the lion dureva slammed his drink back on the bar counter. His figure was extremely large and imposing, nearly twice the size of the nearest man to him, though no one sat next to him. He looked remarkably human for a dureva, the only real differences being the fangs he had, as well as a large mane of fur across his shoulders. Next to him sat a large club, which buckled the floor beneath it. He looked annoyed.

"Still no info on that child, hume? What about all that 'magic', and technology you humes adore? What about the gods you all worship? All of it can't grant me one wish?

A frustrated expression came across the bartender's face as he cleaned about the 10th glass from the man. No matter how much this beast drank, he never seemed the least bit tipsy.

"Arieh, with all do respect, we aren't miracle workers."

A growl came from Arieh.

"And don't you dare roar in my bar. People are iffy enough about us serving your kind. Here in Olias, we might welcome tourist, but anything more... is less than welcome."

The lion dureva could only shake his head, and pick up his 11th glass.

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much more do I have to pay in your.... money to increase the range of your search?"

"More than a dureva would have."

The growl returned, before the door burst open.

"Hey, any hunters here? A monster was seen on the outskirts, an elite mark!"

Ariel finished his drink, oddly calmed by it, before calling out to the man.

"How much is the reward?"

"I don't know, it's alot though, it's a hydra! Those things are worth their weight in gold, and they weigh alot!"

That was enough. Ariel stepped off the barstool, which would have sighed in relief if it could, and grabbed his club with one hand, as if it was a wooden stick.

"I will be back in a few hours, barkeep. I do believe whatever the pay, it will be enough money, even for you greedy humes."

---

The man who was peddling his wares from a mobile shop set up as a cart that unfolded into a series of tables, curving around him in a half circle, the man glanced about and through the crowd, sometimes calling out to those surrounding about his wares. Yet, there was a different look in his eyes mingled with a sort of greed when he looked at tourists--those who didn't belong. It was a slight glint in his eyes that might remind someone of distrust, disgust even. It was hard to pinpoint, but it hardly mattered, few noticed it as the shopkeeper made a point of hiding it when people looked his way. Something he had grown accustomed to identifying. His back to a wall as he faced outwards so he could watch his wares, he heard a young man call out to him.

Head turning slightly, the wrinkles at his neck stretching as his eyes narrowed while he searched the crowd for the one who had called him, the man finally saw the stranger. He smiled, genial and swept a hand out over his wares, "Perhaps I could offer you a compass that always points one in the right direction, mmm?" He pointed at a circular device with several arrows that whizzed about or laid at rest--inactive. Its face was covered with a set of numbers from one(1) to one hundred(100), each denoted by a thin line. "Ooor, perhaps a magical map, mmm?" He gestured to a long rolled up piece of parchment with a set of symbols visible even whilst it was rolled up. It was bound by cord and there were chalk markings on it. "Or I suppose I could just tell you where the Libraries reside, but I assure you in this old city, you might find yourself getting lost despite my directions," he smiled at the young man, his crow's feet becoming more apparent. The man was old, but not terribly skinny, having enough meat to his frame that he could be assumed to make at least enough from his wares to live off of, though not so much to live lavishly as some merchants did.

The man reached up, brushing several strands of wispy black hair from his face, tucking it behind one ear where it was out of the way. The rest of his hair was held up by a a red and yellow turban, though the fabric was faded in color, as with the rest of his garments. "Your choice," the man shrugged, "Though, if you're of a mind to spend some coin, I'll perhaps give you a discount for entertaining an old man such as I." He winked at the stranger that Mato was as he said it, his smile one shared between two friends up to some mischief. The man thought that perhaps he could win the boy over. If not, no worries, he'd make money regardless, though an additional customer could never hurt.

---

---

Back leaned against the wall, helm at his feet, hands without gauntlets, though the rest of him was clad in armor, a man with sharp angles to his face and a look in his eyes that could kill, Vasarius glared out at the world, watching tourists and residents of Olias go about their days. They were all disgusting, he noted, though every so often a woman caught his eye, though they didn't hold it long often losing it when they began talking to someone. Scowling, Vasarius glanced at the door that was set several feet away to his right, then back to the street, impatience and tension rife in his body language.

Forcing his glare away from the door he turned his attention to one of his hands as his free hand extracted a thin knife from his belt. He brought it up and began using it, with impressive dexterity, to pick grit from beneath his nails. He noted several looks of disgust pass over him, but he ignored them. However, when he noticed a group of men staring at him their gaze not breaking even over the course of several minutes he took interest. Pushing himself from the wall and letting his knife wielding hand drop to his side, grip reversing, Vasarius stood, eyes piercing through the throng of bodies that passed between his position and the group's, and smiled. It was an arrogant smile, one filled with disdain for the group.

He noted that among them were what appeared a mage and a warrior of sorts, one clad in robes and light armor, materials at his belt, with the other in heavier equipment, a sword at his belt, and a helm beneath his arm. Hunters he thought with a certain relish, more because it meant they were rivals, or wannabe rivals of the same trade--though clearly different caliber.

The men were glaring at him due to jealousy and disgust, and he liked it as he was of the opinion that men were revealed for what they really were when the ugliest of their emotions took hold. Jealousy and anger were two such emotions.

Staying where he was and giving no sign that he intended to do anything further, Vasarius waited, his smile remaining, to see if they would break eye contact before he did. One of them clearly more upset than his comrades, Vasarius noticed, was being talked down, told not to approach. After several minutes, their arguments ceased to hold sway and the young hunter's anger took hold. The boy, for he was certainly not a man, began to make his way through the crowd.

However, before he got even half way, the door of the bar swung open and his own partner, a massive Dureva, joined him. The boy stopped in his tracks and Vasarius met his gaze, grinning. In no less than a moment, the boy turned on his heel and headed back to his teammates. Eye still on them, Vasarius spoke, addressing the Dureva, "Just in time, I was beginning to think I'd have to kill someone to get your attention." Vasarius tore his eyes from the group, as they gave him fleeting glances before retreating into a smithy's shop. He noticed several people glance his way, slightly alarmed or just curious as they heard him. Most continued walking, several stayed where they were, their expressions worried or wary.

Vasarius dropped his smile as the bit of adrenaline faded and boredom took over, his voice cutting through the noise of the crowd, "I hope you didn't come out of that bar without a job for us to do, because otherwise I'm going to be very displeased that you interrupted something." The man gave no indication as to what Arieh had interrupted as he glanced back at Arieh, his expression again a cutting glare, as it was more often than not.

His eyes again went over the crowd while he waited for Arieh to respond. Impatience has returned to his stance, body tense. He was like a predator constantly on the prowl, poised to strike at any moment. Or, more fittingly, he was like a rabid beast, uncaring of who he hurt as long as someone was hurt. He was possessed of a certain madness really, but it was something honed...controlled, even if only barely.

Hopefully he wouldn't be snapping anytime soon.

Arieh's departure of the bar led him to the most foul beast he had encountered yet, and sadly one he couldn't kill, though he was sure many would pay him for such an act. All he could do was paw at his beard in annoyance.

"Hume, what obligation do I have to provide you with work? Even if you did pick off a few of your fellows, the most you would get would be a raised eyebrow. I come from a more proud people than that. If you are so desperate though, come. Help me slay a hydra. I would like to show you how a proud hunter dispatches his prey. Nature respects strength, and even the most forsaken monster is a part of nature."

Arieh glanced at the people around him, seeing the group of hunters glancing out from the smith shop. The same group that often harried him about his race... and the same group that were wide eyed each time he returned with a hunt's proof, occasional heads much larger than he was. Arieh's annoyance at them turned to a terrifying roar that shook the area. It was relatively quiet compared to Arieh's normal one.

"Human hunters, what is your business? If you are curious, come, come and die unprepared. If you are not curious, leave us be."

With that, Arieh headed to the outskirts of town, he was sure the other beast was still with him.

"I know not about this beast, other than it's a hydra. If it's young, I shall rend its heart, and that's that. If it's more mature, with harder scales, I shall simply outmatch it. I don't suppose the normal head as proof shall do, we shall bring back the heart of this beast one way or another. Perhaps they would believe our story, but I do not like to be shorted or dishonored with pay. I do consider this will kill your obvious boredom. Perhaps you should find a woman."

---

Choosing not to respond at all to Arieh's question regarding his responsibility to find contracts, he watched as the Lion-man took notice of the same individuals who he'd been tormenting. Seeing Arieh's expression and body language told him everything he needed to know about what was to come. He donned his helm, more in preparation for the job than for anything Arieh was likely to do.

Then came the roar, a quiet one as the Dureva's roars went, but startling nonetheless--though not for him, he was used to it. Thus Vasarius watched as many onlookers reacted, a grin forming on his face at their surprised and sometimes, even terrified, expressions. It was their fear that amused him, but the amusement didn't last long. In fact the expression dropped away to be replaced by his usual grim seriousness as Arieh and he headed towards the wilderness and their prey.

The Dureva began talking and he listened, though he gave no real indicators that he was doing so.

As Arieh finished, he spoke up, "It will kill my boredom for a time and the pay will help curb it for longer." He said little more, seeing no reason to even acknowledge Arieh's mention of women.

---

Having left behind the last vestiges of Olias behind them, Vasarius and the lion-man looked now upon the mist covered hillswept lands beyond Olias, a place who some thought haunted, and others thought cursed. Both were wrong, but that was hardly the point was it? No, Vasarius mused, the point was that due to people's neglect to the lands outside the city, various beasts and dangerous folk had gathered here, hiding in wait of unknowing travelers or foolish wannabe heroes. For most the place was somewhere you went to disappear...permanently, be it either by design or as one was taken by the reaping hand of Death. However, for a seldom few, known colloquially as Hunters, it was a promiseland filled to the brim with monstrosities they could prey upon and benefit from in kind. Today it was simply a path for he and Arieh to cross to reach a small village that was several miles out from Olias. The village was near where the Hydra had been reported to have settled in.

If the two of them had anything to say about it, it would be the last place that the Hydra ever settled in life, and the place its form would rest in death.

As they approached, as they were only a mile off now, Vasarius drew his weapon of choice and began to run his gauntleted fingers over the surface of its blade, touch gentle. Anyone who did not know the man, which were most, would think him caressing the blade, but the reality of things was that the hunter was weaving magic into the weapon in preparation for dealing with their quarry.

Without looking to Arieh, he spoke, "I'm enchanting Dhaerym with a spell of mine. Let's call it Shattering Dispersal." He grinned within his helm and his amusement was apparent in his voice as he continued "The spell will disperse the force that would typically shear through and cut and will instead apply a blunt effect over a small area around the impact zone. I'll work to distract the beast while you hammer away at its hide. Your club as more likely to be useful against its tough hide, should it be more mature, which, knowing my luck, it ought to be." Oddly, he said it with a kind of dark joy, as if knowing that their job was harder pleased him. After all, for Vasarius, all obstacles were simply challenges to him, challenges he could surmount so as to spit with spite into reality's face.

"Any complaints, Arieh?" His helm turned slightly, so its one eye slit allowed Vasarius full view of his partner. While he awaited response, the two continued their steady approach of the village. It had shown up in the distance now, barely visible among the misty hills. Soon they would be upon it and after seldom few questions for the inhabitants, they'd be upon their beast.

Arieh grunted at his companion.

"Yes, several."

He did not however expand, which was as good enough as he'd at least bother with it. Earlier, Arieh might have object to having had to resort to outsmart the beast rather than simply best it, but he'd learned he'd needed money, much to Vasarius's amusement. To Arieh, might and honor summed up his entire existence. Many humans had called it stubborn, Arieh called it responsibility.

Sniffing the air, the smell of death was easy to follow. Hydra's were messy eaters, and this wasn't Arieh's first persay. Sadly, the last one had managed to escape, much to his dismay(The clubbing it off a cliff hadn't helped). Thankfully he had been alone, and had instead simply brought back a different creature's proof. Vararius still had a field day.

Shaking his head, suddenly a noise in the background alerted him. Much yelling, and...

"I smell burnt powder. What weapon is it you humes always use with powder in it?"

Realization struck, and Arieh was off, running full speed towards the sound and smell, tilting forward til he was running on all fours.

"I will not let any hunter beat us to the mark!"
-------------------------------------------------------

A woman panted heavily on the floor, looking up at the looming creature infront of her. A low gutteral growl shook the entire area as the creature stared at her, slowly walking forward. With another slow step forward, it's scaly foot crashed atop the handcart between them, breaking it easily. Nearly 15 meters long, the creature was massive.


*Currently 1 head.
The creature then struck in an instant, it's head snapping down at the prey infront of it.

"Oi, what'cha think ya doing to my wares!?"

Confused, the creature raised it's the head that had struck, holding piece of rock in it's mouth the size of the woman. It peered quizzically underneath itself to see the woman sticking her hand into the cart. She had barely rolled out the way, scratches covering her. The blood showed she was definitely nothing superhuman.

Apathetically it crushed the rock, letting out hiss. Standing on the handle to reach further, she frantically moving her arm under the sheet, the woman grabbed something, and her face lit up.

" 'ere you are my Sweety! Now get some ya bloody lizard!"

As she struggled to pull it out beneath the creature's massive claw, the creature again struck.

BOOM! Chachink!

And it's head was missing, thanks to a shotgun the woman had procured from the cart, which was still smoking as she pumped it.

"A'ight! Teach you to mess with my.....Why are you still moving?"

Writhing for a minute, the flesh of the stump burst forward, 2 new heads forming, and roaring across the plains.

"Oh.... Well, I got more where that came from! You ain't gunna mess with the feared weapon's dealer of Vaemia! GET SOME MORE!"

Another head disappeared in a shower, soaking the crazy. The creature however was angry, and slammed it's claw down on the handcart, sending the handle flinging upward, and the girl upward, the gun leaving her hands.

"Wha-?"

The creature opened it's maw as it waited for gravity to deliver it's lunch. In pain, she reached into her skirt.

-Bang-bang-

Crying, the hydra withdrew a step or two back as a pistol had put out it's two eyes on the remaining head. She would have shot more, but gravity decided to suddenly take over, and everything went black.

Wincing, the next sight was 4 heads leaning angrily over her.

"Eh, eh? I ain't dying here to some bloody lizard!"

She tried to get up, but couldn't move. She'd hurt something in the fall. Her last ditch effort was to reach to her side, feeling metal.

"Lady luck, dun fail me now!"

She pulled the shotgun into place just as the first head struck, causing another bloody shower, and another. The third one was followed by an empty 'click'.

"Uh-oh."

The woman flinched as the hydra's last head struck down at her. Even in the face of death, no scream or crying came from her.

---

Smirking within his helm at Arieh's response, the Hunter turned his attention back to the path ahead of them, his one good eye roving the landscape and taking in any details he might need to remember. As they entered the town of Toima, which appeared quite abandoned due to the Hydra, Vasarius took everything in. It seemed the beast had only come to town perhaps once before retreating. Of course, with Hydra that's all it took to make people flee like pathetic livestock.

Then Arieh spoke up, saying something about gunpowder. Raising an eyebrow, Vasarius almost laughed at the beastman's enthusiasm. Watching for a minute as he ran in the direction of their quarry, Vasarius, after enough time had past, charged himself and his armor with mana, let one foot slide back, and then took off running.

Oddly, his armor didn't make as much sound as it ought to and the metal plates didn't rub against one another or grate on anything as he moved, rather swiftly, to catch up to his partner. Feeling the rush of adrenaline as he and Arieh found the Hydra, he grinned. Had he not been wearing a helm, his teeth would've shone and eyes gleamed.

Spinning Dhaerym in his hand once he charged the beast, overtaking his partner and lunging at the beast's descending head. Rather than stab at it, he let his foot hit the ground next to the fallen woman's abdomen, his body continuing to move as he snapped his weapon through the air and into the side of the beast's muzzle.

Had it been a normal weapon it would have broken, but Dhaerym was no normal spear. So it was that the durability of the implement, the Hunter's enhanced strength, and his precision had batted away the jaws of death. Not even bothering to look at the fallen women, Vasarius lunged upwards through the air with tremendous speed before briefly deactivating his spear's enchantment, and piercing the flesh of the Hydra's neck enough to give him leverage. Before it could whip its head around and throw him, he got his feet on the beast and lunged off and behind it, skidding against the ground near its tail.

He jumped as it swept the thing at him, and held his spear out as it came back, bracing himself to stop the extremity from bowling him over. He only slid a foot when the beasts' tail struck. He didn't even grit his teeth at the blow that Dhaerym had taken.

"Fiesty beast," he snarled from within his helm. "...guess we'll 'ave to teach it a lesson before it dies."

With that he jumped forth, enchantment reactivated, and stabbed the monster. Yet, the weapon did not pierce its hide. Instead there was a resounding smash as if the man had struck with a hammer and not a spear.

He retreated, dodging and weaving as some of its heads struck at him. Every so often he went in again, stabbing the beast with his spear, but causing blunt trauma instead of piercing its hide. This time he was the distraction. Vasarius hoped the big oaf could do his job and batter the beast into submission.

If not, then he'd have to back out and use some more...effective enchantments, rather than enjoy the thrill of the hunt.

He hated doing that.

Hated it more than he did most things, which was to say a lot.

The woman slowly opened her eyes, surprised to find herself not on the menu.

"Uh.... thank you?"

She would have moved more enthusiastically, but her everything hurt. Her ammo was a bit far away too. The heck was the lizard above her anyways? She'd never seen one of that size, and everytime a head was destroyed, two more grew back. Grunting, she moved herself near crawling towards her cart as the monster stepped off, enraged by Varsarius, and luckily not her.

------------------

Catching up to Varsarius, Arieh leaped high midair, letting out a true roar, shaking the ground beneath him. Despite the constant bickering, his experience with Varsarius was such that their teamwork was extremely refined. The beast was torn between the two, before the pain Varsarius was causing it caused it to turn back to him full center. Only one head snapped at Arieh, catching him in it's maw.

Arieh for his part held the jaw open with his two hands.

"Beast, know your place before the king of the wild!"

With a sudden snap, Arieh rended the head in two, pulling it apart at the jaw, causing him to fall straight on the back of the beast. With extremely rage, like a beast, Arieh lifted his club high above his club.

"Bow!"

A crunching sound resounded in the area, causing the beast to roar, it's knees buckling out from under it, causing another earthquake as the multi-ton creature fell to the floor.

Beneath it, the gun merchant eyes widened as the heads fell to her either side, flinching before continuing her trek.

The beast trembled as it tried getting back.

Arieh growled.

"Tch. A beast should know it's PLACE!"

Smash after smash kept the best grounded as Arieh continued to try to crack its hide. After several attempts, Arieh was displeased with the results.

"Difficult. *Smash* Heavy bones allow it to make blood to regenerate, *Smash* and a hard caprice makes destroying the heart difficult. *Smash* The more it is damaged, the more heads it grows, and the more energized it becomes. *Smash* Varsarius, cut it's head til it drops from blood loss. I'll crack it's bones to stop the blood creation. *Smash* This would be easier if an amateur hunter hadn't attempted to destroy its heads before us. *Smash* *Smash* *Smash* "