The Red Kingdom Ch 3: The Merciless Giantess

None of us moved. Not a breath. Not a twitch. Just ten poor bastards standing in the shadow of something none of us were ready for.

A giant.

I mean, we knew there were things on the other side of Varkor. Legends, whispers, tales passed around campfires or scrawled in old journals no one believed anymore. But nothing—nothing—could've prepared me for her.

She stepped out from between the trees like she owned the forest. No—like she was the forest. Her very presence made the trees seem smaller, like they'd bent back respectfully to make room.

Tall didn't begin to cover it. She was massive—towering high above us, wearing bronze armor that caught streaks of light through the trees. Her skin was dark and smooth like polished stone, muscles visible beneath her plated gear. Her hair was coiled back into tight braids that framed her face like a lion's mane.

And her face...

I couldn't stop staring at the scar that ran straight through her right eye. It was pale and jagged, probably from a blade. The eye it touched was milky and blind, but it watched us just the same.

She was beautiful. In the same way a thunderstorm is beautiful. Powerful. Terrifying. The kind of beauty that breaks bones.

Her boots slammed into the ground with every step, shaking the soil beneath our feet. A murder of crows screamed and flew from the trees as she approached.

I swallowed. Loudly.

"Well," I muttered, "at least it'll be a unique death."

She finally stopped, only a few yards away from us. When she crouched down, her shadow covered us like a blanket pulled straight from a nightmare.

Her gaze swept across us, slow and deliberate. She looked at us the way a butcher might look at a pile of meat he didn't feel like cutting yet.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"My name is Senaka."

Her voice. Saints and stones, her voice. It was like hearing a landslide purr. Low, commanding, wrapped in the threat of violence.

"From this moment on, you are no longer men of Lurea. You now stand in the land of Ur-Gorah. And by decree of the Matron, I have been sent to lead you to our homeland: Tirak'zul."

I blinked. Tirak-what now? Sounded like a place with a no-return policy.

Senaka stood up tall again, arms folded, and her armor groaned like old wood under pressure.

"You have no names. No rights. You are tools. Property. You will serve. You will work. You will bleed, if told to. You are here to repay your existence with obedience. And if you resist..."

She smiled—tight, humorless. The kind of smile people wear when they already know how the story ends.

"...You'll find there are things worse than death."

Nobody spoke. The silence was louder than her voice somehow. I could hear someone breathing fast—might've been me.

Then she bent again, low and slow, until her massive face hovered above us like the moon.

"Do you understand?"

We stood there, stunned. Not even a bird chirped. The man next to me swallowed so hard I thought he might choke on it. For a brief second, I thought maybe we'd all just nod and be done with it.

But no. There's always that guy.

Big fellow, wide shoulders, arms like stone slabs. Dirty clothes, busted nose, the kind of guy whose fists got more use than his brain. He stepped forward, defiant, like this was some noble cause.

"I ain't nobody's property!" he shouted. "You can't—"

That was as far as he got.

CRACK.

Her fist came down like a meteor. One moment it was up. The next, it was embedded into the ground, crushing the man so hard he disappeared. Just—gone. In his place was a crater, some splattered red, and cracked stone.

I screamed. I'll admit it. Not loudly, but enough. My ears rang, my nose filled with dust, and I felt pebbles slam into my legs like tiny arrows. I had to turn away, wiping blood-specked grit from my face.

"Anyone else have something to say?" Senaka asked, casually brushing her knuckles clean.

No one did. Not a sound. Even the forest seemed to understand it was time to shut up.

She tilted her head slightly, eyeing us like we were particularly dumb cattle.

"Good. Let that be your first and only warning. You speak when spoken to."

Then, as if nothing happened, she turned and began walking away, her boot prints embedded deep into the earth behind her.

I stood there for a second, knees still locked, hands trembling just a little.

Well... I guess the good news was I wasn't dead.

The bad news?

I was officially property. Welcome to Tirak'zul. Population: terrified meat puppets.

And me?

Yeah, still somehow alive.

For now.