The hellhound and the other radiant beasts were just as stunned as he was at his survival, giving Mike ample time to make a run for it.
He froze for a moment, then Hesk let out a smoky dry cough which pulled him from his state of inaction, and then he bolted. Any second now, and an entire forest worth of radiant beasts could show up, encircling him. If he was going to escape, he had to do so now.
The wind sphere had come out of instinct, in a bid to avert certain death, and he needed it again if he was going to evade them. As he ran, he tried to visualize the sphere in his mind, and as if that was their cue, his hands began moving almost by themselves almost like a case of muscle memory except that he had never done this before.
He spun his hands, crisscrossing them in a rhythmic manner and a swirling mass of wind erupted about him, lifting his feet off the ground and propelling him further into the bushes.
The few radiant beasts with Hesk were not encouraged to chase after Mike after seeing what he could do, and Hesk was exhausted from his attack. His eyes met the hollow eyes of his dead comrades as he crouched in exhaustion.
They were more bones than flesh now, their dry skin clinging to dry feeble bones. The human had stolen every part of them that he could and left ugly husks behind. He howled in sorrow.
The radiant beasts watched their fellows hollowed and drab on a sheet of green glass. The scene was like something torn out of a painting, a macabre beauty.
Not just one radiant beast died that day, but six! That was unforgivable, and unheard of. Despite their differences, the radiant beasts were united in their hate for this creature, and they would hunt him to the very end.
"Come, send this to XelanaTon." Hesk commanded a radiant beast quite similar to a woodpecker in appearance.
"There is another, likely hired under Enojar. He possesses similar power, and…" He paused to breathe. Merely uttering the line felt like the most difficult thing he could ever do.
"There are six of us dead." He finally said. The messenger beast nodded, and in a trail of blue, it disappeared into the forest.
"Now, to continue the hunt."
Hesk stood on a rock, elevated amongst his peers. This was his moment, a time he could prove to be not just a good leader, but a great one, and a time to enact revenge and destroy the enemies of the Talcaf forest. They were radiant beasts, the most magical and powerful creatures in the world of Loonè, a lone creature cannot terrorize them. Hundreds waited for him to speak, to give instructions.
"Change of formation. Less groups. Our enemy has proved to be strong, stronger than I. More than that, it could siphon one's radiance and leave them a shell. We will need numbers to take him down, and if any finds him, make a sound. With Araes' scent, you will be able to track it, and I am afraid that Araes too has met a terrible fate such as these ones. Be careful, and may Ros be with us all." He said and then climbed down. Groups merged into teams, and radiance flickered with hate.
Mike zoomed across the forest, it was like the wind about him understood the urgency of the situation. He shredded through bushes, flew across trees, and to where? He had no idea.
Still, he could still feel the Radiant beasts on his trail. He was drifting when he went into a little open field in the forest. He had come so fast that he did not see the massive statue before striking it.
BAM
His field of vision toppled over, and a ringing stormed his head. He staggered, and then fell on his back, losing consciousness.
"No!" Yelled Hesk, and Mike awoke to the roar. He opened his eyes to see the creature, upside down, and accompanied by a multitude of radiant beasts, yet they did not move an inch closer.
Mike sat up hurriedly and looked about him for a spot where he could squeeze an escape, but there was none. He was encircled completely by fiends hungry for his blood.
Though afraid, he was confused. Why had they not come closer? Why was he alive and not torn apart? These questions bogged him. Then he saw it in their eyes—their frustration, though not directed at him. It was the statue that stood tall, and Mike turned to get a good look at it.
He stood and he heard growls, and grunts, yet nothing ensued. It was like he was a performer and the multitude of radiant beasts were the audience.
"Why aren't they moving to me? Do they not want me anymore?"
The statue was that of a creature on two thick legs—similar in shape as Mike, but only bearing two toes on each foot. It had a long sinewy torso, and two pairs of menacing arms, each with two thick fingers, and then was the head, round and adorned with jutting fangs and a large nose.
Mike fitted in the pieces together—the horrific statues and the frozen beasts.
'They are afraid of this statue? No, that couldn't be just it, there has to be more, merely being afraid of it should not stop them from coming at me.' He then gasped, and took a step back, 'Can it move?'
He had seen too many comics to know when something was amiss with a statue, and this one had his pointers up and alarmed.
He turned to the beasts again and they responded with growls. He looked at Hesk, and squinted at it.
"Why don't you just burn me here and now?"
He got no response. Of course the radiant beasts did not understand his tongue.
"Maybe I'll be safe if I stay here, they'll tire out eventually, and if anything, the statue does not bother me, and I can get close to it unlike them, I have the advantage here."
He then sat on the dais of the statue, and that brought shocked reactions from the beasts. What was so special about sitting on a statue?
It was eccentric and beyond unsettling to be at the center of these beasts. Mike was almost certain that they could starve themselves just for him to leave the circle.
It was in this state of worry and fear that his feet pressed on a surface next to the dais. The surface sank, and next came the sounds of moving gears, and then, a diagonal path the width of the dais revealed itself.
"RAGGHH! RAGGHH!" The radiant beasts hollered simultaneously with rage and frustration. Mike was not meant to have found the opening, their reactions clearly told him that, but he was not exactly encouraged.
The path was dark, pitch black, and the statue above it did not exactly tell of good will, but what choice did he have?