Footprints?
Why didn’t he see them before? And why was there only one here?
Tatehan scratched the back of his head, staining the spot his hand met with dirt.
He gripped his sword tightly.
That had to answer his question. Someone, or some creature, did come here this morning to take the hammer. But who could the creature be?
Tatehan pondered that for quite some time as he stared at the footprint, examining it.
Who could possibly be the owner?
The footprint was very large in size, even bigger than his own foot.
If he was to guess, he would say the foot looked like that of a sasquatch.
Bigfoot!
But dammit, there was no Bigfoot on Mars, so he was certain it wasn’t from that.
This would surely be from a much bigger creature.
Seeing this big footprint, Tatehan couldn’t imagine how large the monster would be.
He stroked his beardless chin, his mind drifting away from the task at hand to how really cool it would be if he had a beard.
How it would make him look all manly and intimidating, probably win him a few Martian human girls...
Focus!
He forced himself to think.
After examining the footprint for a while and coming to no conclusion, Tatehan decided to stand up. He had had enough of this monster-killing and monster-hunting thing. He was on his way to kill a Hexapod mauler, a ruthless beast who, even with all the power and new abilities he had gotten, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fight easily.
Who knows? He might lose.
Standing up and taking one last look at his surroundings, he decided to start heading toward the canyon network.
He took the first step, the second step, and as he was about to take the third, he felt something hard hit him right in the middle of his back.
The hit had a great impact on him because he was without his armor, and as it connected, he could only fall to his knees with a loud shout:
"ARRRGH!"
He held his back in pain, and then came many more hits. Hits that weakened him before he could summon his armor.
It was a pity at this point that the kinetic absorption could only work when he was wearing the armor. Now that he was without it and had received these hits, they all impacted him greatly.
He immediately summoned the armor to prevent any other hits. His backpack had also taken some damage because he was wearing it when the object landed on his back.
Tatehan quickly turned around, his face now covered by the visor, the rock sword in his hands. He didn’t know how deadly what had been throwing the objects was like, so the only solution at this point would be to run.
He knew that whatever it was would probably be very powerful and would rip him to shreds if he tried to attack it.
But when Tatehan looked at the ground and saw that the things that had been hitting him were hammers, like the one he had found beside the boulders, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
’How was that possible?’
That was the first thought that came to his mind as he looked at the hammers.
So he had been right about his speculations. He had every reason to be afraid...
That was until he saw what he was facing. What he saw left him in shock.
The creatures were... wrong. Not in the grotesque, hulking way the normal brutenecks were wrong, but in a different, almost uncanny way.
They were short, maybe four feet tall at most, with bodies that looked like someone had taken a regular bruteneck and compressed it down, squeezing all that mass into a smaller frame. Thick, barrel-like torsos sat on stubby legs, and their arms were too long, dragging slightly as they waddled forward.
But what caught Tatehan’s attention immediately was their necks.
Completely exposed. Pale, thin, vulnerable, like a strip of bare skin stretched between their broad shoulders and oversized heads. No armor. No protective plating. Nothing. It was bare and exposed.
All he could see was the soft, almost translucent flesh.
The same grayish-green skin covered their bodies, slick with that familiar sheen of moisture that left wet trails on the ground. But these creatures moved differently, less shambling, more deliberate. Waddling, yes, but with purpose.
Tatehan couldn’t shake the feeling that they looked... unfinished. Like evolution had tried to make something efficient and compact but had forgotten to protect the most important part.
Dwarfs!
Dwarfs!
Dwarf brutenecks!
Words appeared across his retina:
[Species Identified: Dwarf Bruteneck] [Classification: Compact variant of standard bruteneck species]
[Height: 4-4.5 feet]
[Threat Level: Moderate - High (pack hunters, tool users)]
[Weakness: Exposed neck region - minimal protection]
[Notable traits: Enhanced coordination, crude tool usage, pack tactics]
[Caution: Intelligent hunters. Avoid underestimating based on size.]
Tatehan gripped his sword more tightly as he stared at them in shock. He couldn’t believe there were beings like this.
Of course he knew dwarfs existed, he just didn’t know there were dwarf brutenecks. This had to be the most sophisticated type of species he had ever seen.
The term "brutenecks," though simple in sound and pronunciation, was perhaps the most complex word in creature classification he had ever encountered.
Just like how insects had thousands of species—beetles, ants, flies, each with countless variations, brutenecks seemed to have just as many types.
They all looked at him with vicious eyes, hammers in hand, ready to kill him.
But Tatehan only grinned, one that looked like what a villain would give.
He shouldn’t have trouble defeating these. No matter how strong they might be, he’d prove why he was stronger, and he’d do so quickly.
Pointing his sword at them, his gravity manipulation powers active (he didn’t even need partial regeneration for this, except to heal from the hits from the hammers), his armor on (the kinetic absorption active), the futuristic visor covering his face, and his rock sword held firmly in his hands, he mumbled:
"Let’s rumble."