The air smelled of fear. The otherwise cheerful, wide street leading to the main town square suddenly went silent. Only the wind whispered to the dried leaves, which cheerfully responded, accentuating the ensuing silence.

  Locals stood along the white stone fences. Gathering in miniature packs, they guarded each other's fear. The younglings ran to their parents, clutching their mother's skirt and father's trousers while their wrinkled palms fell protectively on their shoulders.

  Their gazes, bathed in the golden and crimson hues of autumn, rushed to the edge of the forest, from which three men were approaching with a firm stride—their facial features stern and sharp, expressions unfathomable. With broad, burly shoulders, sturdy necks, powerful backs and arms, they were moving unusually nimbly, as if hovering above the ground.

  The dragon skin capes fluttered behind them, tickled by the wind. Two men at the rear were cloaked in the color of the sky, while the first among them was wearing a cape of golden scales reflecting a hundred shades of autumn. He had honey-colored hair tied into a high ponytail. An asymmetrical scar, the length of a forefinger, cut across the prominent cheekbones on his left cheek, particularly emphasized by his even facial features. Under a long cloak, dragging behind him, was a sizeable black carcass, which he gracefully threw in front of him when they reached the middle of the street.

  The townspeople averted their gazes and lowered their heads before the warriors. Several women squealed when the blond man threw a carcass in front of them. Many hands flew swiftly to cover the children's eyes. A few children sulked, trying to wriggle out of the firm grip.

  "Terrunians," roared the goldilocks as if to calm the crowd, though all the sound had vanished when they appeared. "Your fear has come to an end."

  A black bestia lay lifeless in front of him. At the top of the elongated head, it had two horns, one behind the other, of which the one closer to the forehead was half as short. Carved along their entire length, they resembled a saw. The rat-like head, bordered by a tough fan-shaped membrane, in which no pride remained, was mounted on a sinewy neck.

  The body was not covered in hair, feathers, or scales; it was completely naked, coated only with rigid, resistant skin, which seemed utterly impenetrable. The long tail, tapering to sharp creases like the horns, blended into a dark green blood trail pouring from two symmetrical punctures on the solid chest.

  "Why should we be afraid?" A woman's voice cut through the silence.

  The red-haired man beside the robust, dark-haired woman suddenly paled. He grabbed and squeezed her hand, trying to reprimand her, but she didn't even look at him. She looked the newcomers straight in the eye.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "Terrun was under siege by Malumbra for days. Your herds have been decimated. Even the lives of your youngest were endangered." He ripped the air with his harsh voice. "But as of today, you have nothing to fear."

  "That's nonsense! There are no bestias in Terrun!" Encouraged by the stubby woman, a tall man with brown, curly hair and a thick beard turned to the warriors who stood motionless in the middle of the street. His bushy eyebrows framed a slightly dull expression.

  "Then what is this? It was only a matter of time before it attacked your children," one of the two warriors in blue replied, his voice sharp and piercing. Curly dark brown hair fell over his cape.

  The blond man raised his hand, and he fell silent.

  They wore uniforms carefully crafted of blue dragon scales. On their chests was gold body armor with a crest which was also embossed on the back of their cloaks. Gold alloy greaves protected their shins; girdles and the edges of the sleeves, collars, and capes were adorned with numerous gilded details.

  "It's true what he says about the herds," timidly added a young man standing to the warrior's right. "I'm missing a few sheep..."

  "You're missing a few marbles," the dark-haired woman spoke again, shooting the young man with her gaze. "What do you want from us?"

  "We want nothing from you. We've done this for you. With this, the Legion's mission is complete. Remain in peace." The frontmost warrior lowered his gaze to the carcass.

  "Ambustio," he thundered, turning his palm towards Malumbra, around which a thick fire was rising. Dark green reflections of burnt blood emerged through the flames, and terrified cries and sighs of dismay resounded through the street.

  "Leave! You're not welcome here," the woman screamed, and the others echoed her sentiments.

  The three legionnaires were leaving town proudly as if they were being sent off with heartfelt farewells.

  The air stank of combustion, and there was nothing left in the place where the bestia had burned. Not even ashes. However, the locals circled around that piece of land at a wide angle. Emboldened by their retreating figures, they nervously crossed each other's paths, resuming what they had been doing before this unfortunate event.

  Only one dark-skinned boy with curly dark hair continued to look after them, his gaze full of boyish admiration.

  "Let's go, Leon!" his father called, holding his hand while the boy stumbled, glancing back.

  Other children were forcibly dragged off the street and taken into houses with sharp reproaches from their parents.

  "These are cursed matters!"

  The Terrunians seemed quick to forget, so everything already seemed as usual. Perhaps they just skillfully concealed their unease, believing that what we quickly surrendered to oblivion never occurred.

  Maybe they were closer to the truth than they could have imagined…

  Malumbra – Most commonly black or dark brown in color, it belongs to terrestrial vertebrates. The predator can reach up to three feet in adult males. The bodies of adult individuals are not covered with fur, feathers, scales, or other horny or crystalline substances; their skin is very resistant. In times of hunger, Malumbra individuals, if found near populated areas, will attack herds, flocks, or droves of domestic animals; there have been recorded instances of attacks on children. The male Malumbra will kill its own offspring in the absence of food. Type: jarish. Danger level: perilious.