Chapter 43

The Ironhide Charger stood the size of a small van, its massive bulk shimmering with a metallic sheen that looked more like forged plates than organic hide. Kyle sauntered toward the beast, the dry leaves of the forest floor crunching under his boots. He didn't reach for his bow. Instead, he drew his bone dagger in his right hand and a standard starting archer's dagger in his left. The boar huffed, a sound like a steam engine venting pressure, and its tusks—serrated and caked in dried mud—lowered...