Chapter 1: Forgotten Memories

It was hundreds of years ago, in an age where men lived in caves and fought for every breath, that a family made their home atop a high cliff. The cave was their sanctuary, a place where they could be safe from the predators that roamed the world below. But even here, safety was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the arrival of a Haltuer.

On one fateful evening, after the light of the setting sun bathed the world in crimson, a Haltuer found its way into the cave. It was a monstrous thing, with claws like sickles and a maw filled with jagged teeth. Its eyes, if they could be called that, glowed with a malevolent hunger, and from its throat came a sound that was neither growl nor scream, but something far more terrible.

The father, a man of great strength and courage, stood between the beast and his family. His wife clutched their newborn child to her breast, her eyes wide with terror. “Stay back,” the father warned, his voice a low growl of determination. He held a spear made of sharpened stone, its point glinting in the firelight.

The Haltuer lunged, its claws outstretched, and the father met it with a thrust of his spear. But the weapon, which had felled many beasts before, merely glanced off the creature’s hide. The Haltuer shrieked, a sound that echoed through the cave like the cry of a thousand damned souls.

“By the gods,” the father muttered, disbelief washing over him as he struck again and again, each blow as futile as the last. The creature was unstoppable, and it knew it. With a snarl, the Haltuer lunged forward, its jaws closing around the man’s shoulder. Pain exploded through him as the beast’s teeth sank deep into his flesh. With a feral strength, the Haltuer flung him across the cave, and he hit the wall with a sickening thud.

The father’s vision swam, but through the haze of pain, he saw the Haltuer turn its attention to the child, who had begun to cry. The sound of the infant’s wails seemed to stir something in the creature, and it advanced on the mother and child, its hunger palpable.

“No...” the father groaned, forcing himself to his feet. He could see the terror in his wife’s eyes, the way she clutched their child to her chest, as if her very touch could protect him. But she knew, as did he, that there was no escape. The Haltuer was upon them, its maw opening wide, ready to feast on their flesh.

Just before the creature could pounce, the father hurled himself at it, grappling it from behind. His arms wrapped around its neck, and he squeezed with all the strength he had left. The Haltuer thrashed and roared, its claws raking at the air, but the father held on, refusing to let go. But no matter how hard he squeezed, the creature did not choke, did not falter. The Haltuer was death incarnate, and death could not be strangled.

Desperation filled the father’s heart, but with it came a grim resolve. He knew what he had to do. With one final look at his wife and child, he smiled, a sweet, sad smile that spoke of love and finality. His wife, eyes wide with understanding, shook her head in silent denial, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Everything will be alright,” he whispered, though his voice was hoarse and broken. “I love you.”

Without another word, the father dragged the Haltuer toward the mouth of the cave. The creature screeched and clawed at him, but he did not falter. With a final, tremendous effort, he threw both himself and the monster over the edge of the cliff. For a moment, there was nothing but the wind and the sound of the Haltuer’s shrieks as they plummeted to the rocks below.

Before the dawn of time as men would come to reckon it, there were two species that walked the earth, each one exceeding all other creatures that dwelt upon the land. One was humanity, a race born with the gift of intellect, capable of discernment, judgment, and reason. The other was the Haltuers, vicious predators with a thirst for human flesh. The two were locked in eternal conflict, a war that began long before the first memory of man, and would stretch into the annals of history.

The Haltuers were not like any beast known to man. They were immune to the cuts of mere stone and bone, their flesh impervious to the weapons of men. Many a brave warrior had fallen before they discovered that only a specific energy, the Euna, could pierce the hide of these foul creatures. But that knowledge came too late for many; centuries of slaughter passed before the truth was known, leaving the bones of countless men to bleach under the sun.

The Haltuers possessed powers beyond human comprehension. Some could fly, their leathery wings casting shadows over the land like the darkness of an impending storm. Others were giants, their massive forms capable of crushing men beneath their weight. There were Haltuers with long, serpentine tongues that could strangle a man where he stood, and small ones that moved in packs, swarming over their prey until nothing but blood and bones remained. Were it not for their unexplained fear of daylight, Humans would perish completely. Only through the gift of the bright sun can humans gain a fighting chance. 

(Present Day)

The night fell upon the Redhills region like a shroud, the sky veiled in dark clouds that seemed to swallow the stars. Beneath the brooding heavens, a small village nestled in the valley of the hills, unaware of the horrors that would soon descend upon it. The Redhills were known for their peace and the bountiful harvests that came from the fertile lands, but that evening, peace was torn asunder by the thunderous roars of the Limb Haltuers.

These monstrous creatures, with arms as long as tree trunks and the strength to crush men like insects, had descended upon the village with a hunger that could not be sated. Their footsteps shook the earth, and with each stride, they closed in on the unsuspecting villagers. 

A man, scarcely more than a boy, ran through the narrow streets of the village, his voice raw from shouting. "Run! Run for your lives!" he cried, his breath coming in ragged gasps. All around him, the sounds of carnage filled the night—screams of terror, the sickening crunch of bone, and the roar of the Haltuers as they tore through the village.

“Help me! Please, someone!” a woman’s voice rang out, desperate and high-pitched. She clutched the arm of an old man, her father perhaps, trying to drag him to safety. But the old man’s legs gave out beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground. “We must go, now!” the woman pleaded, tears streaming down her face. 

But it was too late. A massive hand, cold and unyielding, smashed through the wall of the house beside them. The Limb Haltuer’s fingers, thick as ancient oaks, wrapped around the old man’s frail body, pulling him through the debris. He screamed as the Haltuer’s maw descended, tearing flesh from bone, devouring him with a sickening crunch.

“No!” the woman wailed, frozen in horror as she watched her father’s life end in a gruesome display of blood and gore. But her shock cost her dearly. A second Limb Haltuer, sensing the easy prey, swept down upon her, and she too was gone, nothing more than another casualty in a night of terror.

The streets of the village ran red with blood. Men, women, and children tried to flee, but there was no escape. The Haltuers were everywhere, their long arms reaching into homes, pulling out the screaming occupants and devouring them. Houses that had stood for generations were reduced to rubble, their stone walls no match for the Haltuers’ might.

One of the villagers, the young man who had been running through the streets, turned a corner and stumbled upon a terrible sight. Amidst the chaos, a newborn infant lay on the ground, its cries barely audible above the din of destruction. The boy’s heart twisted in his chest as he looked at the child, so small and helpless. The parents were nowhere to be seen, likely devoured by the monstrous beasts. 

He hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. *I could leave it… I could save myself…* But the thought shamed him, and he pushed it away. He couldn’t just leave the baby to die. No, he wouldn’t. He had to do something.

He rushed to the infant, scooping it up in his arms, cradling it against his chest. The child’s cries softened, as if it sensed the protection in his arms. “It’s alright,” he whispered, though he knew it was a lie. Nothing was alright.

He turned to run, his heart pounding in his chest, but as he took his first step, a massive boulder, flung by one of the Haltuers in a fit of destruction, came crashing down. It struck his leg with the force of a hammer, shattering bone and muscle alike. Pain exploded through him, and he fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

“No! No, not like this!” he moaned, clutching at his leg, the infant still held tight in his other arm. The pain was unbearable, a fire that seared through his entire body. He should have left the child… He should have saved himself… But it was too late for regrets. He was trapped, pinned by the boulder, with no hope of escape.

Through the smoky, fog-filled air, he saw it—one of the Limb Haltuers, a colossal figure looming in the distance. Its face, twisted and grotesque, was a mask of hunger and malice. Every step it took shook the ground, the very earth trembling beneath its feet. It was coming for him. 

Just as the creature’s long arm reached out, ready to crush the life from him, there was a flash—a brilliant burst of blue light that cut through the darkness like a blade. The Haltuer recoiled, a guttural roar escaping its throat as something streaked through the air, faster than the eye could follow. 

A man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, his form solidifying from the blue lightning that had preceded him. He wore a black vest, a golden badge on his chest glinting in the light, and in his hand was a sword, its blade shimmering with the same blue energy. 

“Maelyss,” the boy breathed, a mixture of hope and awe in his voice.

The man moved with the precision and grace of a seasoned warrior. The Haltuer, taken aback by the sudden appearance, hesitated for the briefest moment—a fatal mistake. In that instant, the Maelyss warrior struck. His sword, glowing with Euna energy, cut through the air with a sibilant hiss, and before the Haltuer could react, the blade sliced clean through its thick neck. 

The creature’s roar turned into a choked gurgle as its head, severed from its body, tumbled to the ground. Blue smoke rose from the wound, the Euna energy burning away the life force of the beast. The body, still standing for a moment, finally crumpled, the earth trembling with its fall.

“All clear!” the warrior shouted, his voice carrying over the battlefield. All around him, other Maelyss soldiers were engaging the remaining Limb Haltuers, their swords and daggers flashing with the same blue energy. They moved like shadows, quick and lethal, cutting down the monsters wherever they found them.

“Restrain it!” another Maelyss commanded, throwing a specialized rope, thick and laced with Euna, around the arm of a thrashing Haltuer. The rope tightened, glowing as it sapped the strength from the creature, holding it in place. 

“Now! Go for the head!” the first warrior shouted.

Another soldier, using the dagger infused with Euna, teleported to the Haltuer’s head in the blink of an eye. His sword flashed once, twice, and then the Haltuer’s head was severed, rolling to the ground with a final, agonized screech.

The boy with the crushed leg watched in awe and pain as the Maelyss soldiers fought with skill and bravery, cutting down the monsters one by one. But for every Haltuer they killed, another seemed to take its place. The battle was brutal, the night filled with the sounds of battle—the roars of the Haltuers, the shouts of the Maelyss, and the cries of the dying.

Blood soaked the earth, a mix of the dark red from the villagers and the eerie blue from the Maelyss’ weapons. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the ground was littered with the bodies of both men and monsters. 

As the battle raged on, the Maelyss captain, a tall man with a scar across his face, made his way to the boy who had been injured. “When did it happen?” the captain asked, his voice calm despite the chaos around them.

The boy, pain etched on his face, tried to speak. “It was… it was sudden. They came out of nowhere. I think… I think some hunters might have led them here, by accident.”

The captain nodded, his expression unreadable. “It’s over now. You did well, protecting the child. We’ll get you both to safety.”

He motioned to one of his men, who gently lifted the boy, careful not to jostle his crushed leg, and carried him and the infant away from the battlefield.

All around them, the blue flashes of Euna energy illuminated the night as the Maelyss continued their fight. But the Limb Haltuers were relentless, their numbers overwhelming. For every Haltuer slain, two more seemed to take its place. The battle was long and hard, and by the time the last of the monsters fell, the village was in ruins, and the ground was littered with the bodies of the fallen.

At dawn, the light revealed the full extent of the devastation. The village was no more, reduced to rubble and ash. The Maelyss had fought bravely, but the cost had been high. Many of their number lay dead, their bodies broken and torn. Some had been cut in half, others impaled, and still more had been devoured by the monstrous Haltuers. The sight was one of horror, the aftermath of a night of terror that would haunt the survivors for years to come.