New York Times bestselling author Larry Correia puts the Malcontents back in the middle of the action in Into the Wild, the sequel to Into the Storm (2015), which shaped Madigan’s Malcontents from terrible men to terribly dangerous soldiers.

This time, the Storm Knights find themselves up against particularly ferocious foes—wilderness dwellers who will go to the greatest lengths to keep the Cygnaran platoon now led by Lieutenant Cleasby from discovering their secrets…or, if they refuse to turn back, from leaving the woods alive. In the following excerpt, the men in the wild prepare themselves to hunt Cleasby and his Malcontents…

The shaman stood within the circle of stones, crying out to the Beast of All Shapes, praying for strength to fill their warriors’ bodies and fury to stretch their souls. As the holy man danced and shook his necklace of finger bones, the chief stepped forward. His warriors began to chant his name.

Caradoc. Caradoc. Caradoc.

The basin before him had been filled with the blood of the forest predators, bear and wolf; the great beasts of the mountain, gorax and satyr; and soon, to complete the offering, the blood of their prey.

Though his skin was still blackened and charred, Ivor had healed enough to participate in the night’s hunt, so he had demanded the right of sacrifice. They’d found the lone trapper wandering in the wilderness weeks ago and had kept him locked in a pen with their pigs. The man was of Cygnar, and he stunk of fear and his own waste as Ivor dragged him before the basin.

Polearms and axes—all too clumsy and big for the warriors holding them—were lifted and slammed against the packed dirt, over and over again, striking out a desperate rhythm.

The mad shaman’s dance increased in intensity. While only the blackclads knew how to travel through the stones, the tribe’s shaman had gone through the wilding that made him truly of the wilderness. The druids had taken him from their tribe as a boy but returned him to them years later, his mind damaged. He might not have been fit to be a blackclad, but he served as Caradoc’s tribe’s holy man well enough. He was touched in the head, but Caradoc figured most holy men were anyway.

But their deranged holy man still possessed the knowledge needed to send warriors through the stones. It required great ceremony and sacrifice for him to reach the proper state of mind, but once the fever was upon him, the old knowledge became clear in the frayed tatters of his mind. The Circle did not know the tribe occasionally used the blackclads’ stones and would surely be outraged if they found out—but the druids were not here and the tribe’s circumstances were dire.

Their arrival on the other end would not be nearly as accurate as if they were sent by a real druid, and Caradoc’s warriors would be scattered across the mountainside, but for a lucky few it would be close enough. The glory would be theirs. He prayed he would be one of them and that he would feel bodies parted by his axe, blood in his mouth, and the crunch of bones between his teeth.

The Cygnar was babbling, begging for mercy and for his young god to come and save him. But Morrow was afraid. Morrow did not dwell on the mountain. The sacrifice saw the massive form of Blood Drinker crouched on the other side of the fire, and the Cygnar began to scream in terror. Ivor yanked back the man’s hair and slashed his throat with a knife. He gurgled and kicked as his blood sprayed into the basin.

Caradoc. Caradoc. Caradoc.

Ivor let the body topple to the side. The shaman’s totem stick was wrapped in feathers and sinew, and he violently drove it deep into the basin. The holy man drew it free, dripping red in the firelight. Caradoc waited before the bonfire, his intricately carved armor hanging from his small frame, his huge bracers ready to fall from his narrow arms—for all the world looking like a child dressed in his father’s clothing—as the shaman approached.

“Do you speak for the mountain?”

“I am he who speaks for the mountain,” Caradoc declared for all to hear.

The shaman pushed the stick against the chief’s forehead, painting him with blood. “Then let the will of the mountain be known.”

As darkness fell upon the village, the change began.

Into the Wild, the new Malcontents novel from Larry Correia, will be available through local games stores and at Amazon.com in March 2016 ($14.99 MSRP). The e-book ($7.99 MSRP) will be available through Skull Island eXpeditions, the Kindle Store, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, and DriveThruRPG.