THE RISING BASTARD SON-Chapter 36 - - - Flame Bear - Part - 3
Flame Bear - Part - 3
The tide of battle was slipping from Kadran’s grasp.
Slowly... steadily... but unmistakably
He could hear the men around him.
Whimpering.
Praying.
Dying.
His squad, once a disciplined and seasoned fighting force, was fracturing under the relentless assault. The flame bear was no ordinary beast—not some low-level dungeon spawn that could be felled with a few well-timed strikes. No, this was something ancient, something catastrophic. A creature that could raze a village in minutes... and leave a city wounded in its wake.
And here they were—just a single mercenary company, standing between it and devastation.
More soldiers fell. Screams echoed through the forest, cut short by claws or fire. The air reeked of scorched metal and charred flesh. Kadran could do nothing but watch as the ranks thinned. One by one. He was losing them—losing his people, his power, his chance at redemption.
Losing control.
His mind spun. Rage warred with fear. Desperation clawed at the edges of his thoughts.
"Pull yourselves together," he muttered to no one in particular. "It’s not done with us yet."
Behind him,
Amid the chaos, Kaelrick’s voice cut through the smoke and noise like a steel blade.
"Boss... we have to do something. If this keeps up, we’ll be wiped out. The losses—" He paused, measuring his words carefully. This will be our end boss 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦
Kadran clenched his jaw.
Kaelrick didn’t have to say it outright. They were already bleeding gold. This hunt—this opportunity—was meant to be a last gamble. A desperate push to pay off debts and claw their way back into the favor of the guilds. But now? With the beast in front of them, fire curling from its jaws, its eyes burning with intelligence and hatred...
Luck, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.
Kadran’s eyes narrowed. He exhaled slowly, the roar of the battlefield dulling in his ears.
"This fight..." he muttered. "It’ll either make us kings—or leave us begging in the gutters."
His voice rose, steady with resolve.
"I’ll draw it away again. One last time."
Kaelrick turned toward him, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Boss—"
"I said one last time," Kadran snapped. Then he softened. "While I’ve got its attention, hit it with everything you’ve got. Aim for the eyes. Blind it—and we might just have a chance."
Kaelrick’s gaze sharpened. "The eyes?"
"They’re not just a weak point—they’re the only weak point. Everything else just bounces off or burns. But if we blind it... we slow it. Cripple it. Then we finish it at our pace."
Kaelrick nodded, his jaw tightening with grim understanding. And then, after a beat, his expression shifted—something fierce and admiring glinted in his eyes.
"You always find a way, boss?" he said. "Even now. In the middle of all this... You’re still thinking three moves ahead." He placed a hand on Kadran’s shoulder. "I’m honored to follow you, Boss. No matter how this ends."
Kadran’s pride flared. Just a little. Enough to put a smirk on his lips.
"Don’t worry, Kaelrick," he said. "You’ll be rewarded handsomely when this is over. I promise."
They locked eyes. No more needed to be said.
Kadran’s vision swam with rage and bloodlust—but also desperation.
He scanned the battlefield. Too few men. Too many corpses.
Too much fire.
Kadran’s grip tightened on his sword. He needed reinforcements—bodies to throw at the beast, distractions to buy time.
He turned toward the rear lines and bellowed, "Garrik! You damn coward! Get some men up here, now! We need someone to keep this monster distracted!"
Garrik, stationed near the slave pens, flinched at the command. He had been contemplating escape, his mind racing with thoughts of survival. The Flame Bear’s presence had already sapped the morale of the soldiers guarding the slaves. Even at a distance, the beast’s aura was suffocating.
The slaves were in disarray. Many were on their knees, trembling; others had collapsed, unconscious or vomiting from sheer terror. The oppressive heat and the bear’s malevolent presence had broken their spirits.
Among them, Sam knelt, his body wracked with fear. The bear’s roar had driven him to the ground, and he couldn’t muster the strength to stand.
Garrik swallowed his fear and barked orders, sending six soldiers to assist Kadran. He remained behind with only three others to guard the slaves, their numbers dwindling.
The six soldiers approached the battlefield, their faces pale but determined. They knew they were being sent as pawns, expendable distractions to buy time for Kadran’s core fighters.
As they engaged the Flame Bear, the beast turned its attention to them, its fiery maw opening wide. The soldiers fought valiantly, but the bear’s strength was overwhelming. Flames engulfed them, their screams lost in the inferno.
Kadran watched, his heart heavy. He had sacrificed more men, but it was a necessary evil. The beast had to be stopped.
He turned to his remaining core members, their expressions grim. "This is our chance. While it’s distracted, we strike. Aim for its eyes. Blind it, and we can take it down."
They nodded, steeling themselves for the final assaultThen—Kadran turned, raising his cracked and battered shield once more. He marched forward, straight into the path of the flame bear, who had already begun to prowl toward another cluster of vulnerable archers.
"HEY!" Kadran bellowed, his voice raw, thunderous. "I’M STILL HERE, YOU OVERGROWN TORCH!"
The bear halted, its molten eyes shifting toward him.
Kadran activated his Taunt skill again.
But this time... something changed.
The bear didn’t charge at Kadran.
Its molten eyes flicked, flickered—then locked onto the two warriors just behind the front line.
Myric and Rovan.
And in an instant, the Flame Bear launched itself at them like a meteor torn from the heavens.
"What the—NO!" Kadran bellowed, his voice cracking with panic as he lunged forward. Too slow.
Myric and Rovan turned, caught off-guard by the sudden shift. They were seasoned fighters—reflexes honed by war—but there are some things the body cannot prepare for. The bear came at them not like a beast, but like a god of flame and fury unleashed.
It reached Myric first.
With a thunderous snarl, the bear snapped its jaws wide open—revealing two rows of jagged, obsidian-black fangs, each glowing red at the base like molten metal fresh from the forge.
The jaws slammed shut.
CRRRUNCH.
The sound was wet, final—like the snapping of a tree trunk mixed with the tearing of fresh meat. Myric’s torso imploded inward, armor caving in like tin beneath a warhammer. The impact lifted him off his feet—legs kicking, sword tumbling uselessly from his hand—and then the bear bit down harder, shaking him violently like a wolf destroying prey.
Tendons snapped. Ribs exploded outward in a fountain of gore.
One of Myric’s arms was torn clean from the socket, spinning through the air before landing with a grotesque slap against the scorched dirt. The other dangled uselessly by a shredded tendon.
He didn’t even get to scream. His mouth opened, but only blood sprayed forth, sizzling against the heat of the Flame Bear’s muzzle.
Then, as if to mock the survivors, the bear hurled the ruined remains of Myric’s body across the battlefield.
It landed hard.
Something cracked—his skull maybe. What was left of his chest had been scooped clean. Entrails spilled across the ground, steaming as they hit the charred earth. His eyes, once alive with calm resolve, now stared up at the smoke-choked sky, blank, the light behind them extinguished.
The sight was obscene.
But the horror didn’t end there.
Rovan, standing barely ten feet away, froze. His mouth moved, trying to form a word. A command? A curse? A prayer? No sound came. The heat, the shock—the sheer savagery of what he’d just witnessed—locked his body in place.
The Flame Bear didn’t wait.
Its right paw swung in a brutal arc—claws extended, glowing red-hot like forged spears. Each claw was the length of a short sword.
They hit Rovan full in the chest.
SHRIPPPP!
The steel of his armor parted like wet parchment. The claws punched through plate, mail, bone, and organ in one fluid, unstoppable blow. One claw pierced clean through his sternum and jutted out the back of his armor, sizzling with red blood and steaming marrow.
Rovan’s body was lifted off the ground and flung backwards by the sheer momentum of the strike.
He hit the dirt with a sickening thud, his body twitching violently. He tried to move—tried to raise a hand—but his lungs were filling with blood, and it gurgled out of his mouth in a frothing torrent. His eyes—full of disbelief—flicked wildly, seeking help, meaning, anything.
Then... they went still.
His final breath left him as a rattling sigh, one hand clutching at the air as if reaching for something—someone—who could save him.
But no one did.
No one could.
For a moment, the world stopped.
Ash drifted down like snow, covering the battlefield in silence.
Kadran stared. He didn’t blink. Couldn’t.
Two of his core—his brothers—gone in seconds. Gone in the most brutal, unforgiving way a warrior could die: crushed, ripped, torn, discarded like meat.
Blood pooled under Myric’s half-destroyed remains, his sword resting beside him like a mockery.
Rovan’s body was splayed open like a gutted deer, his armor twisted around his corpse like scrap metal.
Kadran’s hand trembled around the hilt of his sword. He could feel his own heartbeat—wild, unsteady, pounding like a war drum of grief and rage.
The Flame Bear, unmoved, turned its gaze back toward Kadran.
Its maw still dripped with blood.
Steam rose from where Myric’s intestines had splattered its hide.
It didn’t see men.
It didn’t see warriors.
It saw food.
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[ End of Chapter ]
[ Please read Author note ]
[ Blazzy - Just Complete this fight why are you dragging the whole fight author, huh
Wait and Read - author ]
[ To do List ]
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