“We should be going after him!” Cliff shouted.

“It is not our place,” Dane replied, turning away from the siblings. “We have our orders. For now, we should focus on returning Henry to Starthall for the funeral.”

“That thing isn’t Henry!” Cliff gestured wildly in the direction where Henry’s body lay, eyes closed and cold. “Henry’s gone!”

“Cliff…” Sierra reached a hand out to her brother, but he shrugged it off, stepping towards the armored man again.

“A funeral? Don’t fuck with me! There’s nothing left to send to the other side!” For some reason, Cliff couldn’t seem to lower his voice. Had he always been so loud?

“We don’t know that,” Dane said, without turning around.

Cliff’s face flushed with anger at his response. “Do you even care?” Stepping forwards, he grabbed onto Dane shoulder and turned the larger man around.

“Shut the fuck up!” Cliff’s feet were suddenly no longer on the ground, dangling uselessly as Dane whirled him around into the nearby tree trunk, holding him up against the wood by the fabric of his shirt. “Henry might have been your friend, but he was my brother,” Dane said. “How dare you say that. Of course I care! Of course I want to go after that bastard! I…” Dane loosened his grip on Cliff’s shirt, lowering him to his feet.

“What am I supposed to tell father?” Dane asked blankly. “He’s gone. Henry’s gone forever.”

Cliff opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say to comfort his friend. Dane sank to his knees as Cliff watched, his armor clanking as he collapsed to the mossy ground.

“We can’t send his soul to the heavens.” Dane blinked past the tears that had begun to stream down his face. “We’ll never meet him in the afterlife, never speak with him again through the altars.”

“Henry lived his own life,” Sierra said. “You father knows this too. Neither of you should feel responsible for his death.”

Dane looked over to her as she crouched down in front of him, and she reached out both of her arms to wrap them around his shoulders, cradling the back of his head in her hand. “It’s okay to do what you want this once,” she said. “Nobody could blame you for that.”

“What I want?” Dane asked. “I don’t know what that is.”

“You need to decide,” Sierra said. “Cliff and I are going after Henry’s killer. If you want to join us, you can leave the corpse to the guild.” She stood once more, and with those words as a parting message, the two siblings left Dane to his thoughts. They had not walked for even a minute before a wailing cry of grief reached their ears, echoing through the forest to where the adventurers’ guild had set up their perimeter around Henry’s body. They needn’t have worried – not even the beasts of the forest had any interest in his barren, lifeless remains.

…

Dane knelt on the tree root for a while longer, staring over to where Henry’s corpse lay further along the gigantic wooden surface. What should he do? His father needed to know… The church would seek retribution when they found out. Would it really be okay if he let someone else take Christoph’s life before he could? In the first place, Cliff and Sierra are chasing after him at this moment, and Gideon is waiting for him ahead with his two Templars.

Pushing off the ground, he staggered forwards from under the massive tree, taking a half step in Henry’s direction before finding his balance. No, there was no way that he would accept Christoph’s death at anyone’s hands but his own. Especially not if he was killed while Dane sat in a stupor nearby. A blur of grey interrupted his thoughts, and he turned around just as Emilia fell from the lower branches of the tree with a thud.

“He really did eat his soul, then?” The beast-girl stood slowly, legs shaking as she leaned against the tree trunk. “I wonder what Leila will have to say about this.”

“You’re the one that fought with Henry,” Dane said, eyes narrowing in recognition. The broken gem on the crossguard of his sword glinted as he drew the blade a half-inch from the sheath.

“That’s right.” Pushing off the tree, Emilia took a step forwards and immediately fell over, catching herself on all fours before her face could hit the ground. “Actually,” she said, “I’d just lost my duel with that elf when the demon caught up to us.”

“If you still mean to claim him as your property, I’ll be your opponent,” Dane said, drawing his sword another inch.

“Put your sword away,” Emilia said, rising back to her feet. “I can barely stand, I’m not about to challenge your to a duel. Unless you mean to force yourself onto me in this condition?”

Dane hesitated for a moment before sheathing his sword, resting his hand on the hilt as he spoke. “What do you intend to do?” he asked.

“It’s simple,” Emilia said, finding her strength and stretching out her limbs. “I’m going home.”

…

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Gideon looked up at Ruth as the party approached.

“He is,” Ruth said. “May god have-”

“Henry will not be meeting with god,” Gideon interrupted. “Will he?”

Lily and Regal flinched at the Executioner’s words, and Quester frowned down at where the knight was lying across the tree root. Grace was kneeling beside the Executioner, healing his wounds as her mana recovered.

“He will not,” Ruth said. “Sir Sierra of God’s Compass confirmed the body was hollow.”

“You did not check yourself?” Gideon asked, looking over Regal’s mage-based attire.

“We did not,” Quester said, moving to shield Regal and Lily from Gideon’s gaze.

“I will ask no more,” Gideon said before turning back to Ruth. “If he has crossed the border, it is only the guild who can follow him.”

“We will not,” Ruth said. “We have received no request from the Greater Paw.”

“And you never will,” Emilia said as she approached the group. “We will deal with him in our own way.”

“A bronze ranker?” Coin asked. “Did you not receive your orders?”

Emilia ignored his question, turning towards Gideon. “How long ago did he flee?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Who are you?” Ruth asked, holding out an arm to block Coin as he made to step towards the girl.

“How fast was he moving?” Emilia asked the Templars again. John and Grace looked to Gideon, but he didn’t seem likely to answer.

“As a bronze ranked adventurer, you are required to answer to those of the gold rank when they ask you a question,” Ruth said calmly.

Reaching up, she wrapped a hand around her guild medallion and wrenched it off of her neck, the string snapping easily as she pulled. Tossing it towards the party of adventurers, she scowled over at them. “Enough of this joke,” she said. “I am Emilia of the Greater Paw, and I will be the lord of the forest one day. Do not intrude on my lands, adventurer.”

“You are one of Beacon’s children?” Gideon asked.

“I am,” she replied, straightening her back. “Tell me, knight, where did my prey run off to?”

“If you leave now, you may reach him before your clan does,” he said. “But make no mistake – this demon has slain a member of our church. We will seek retribution.”

“Send it,” she hissed. “No forest of ours will bend to your false god.”

…

Night approached as Christoph walked through the arm of the forest, the dim light of the Paw disappearing behind him. The trees grew shorter by the moment, and he hadn’t seen a beast since he had parted ways with the Templars. More blood had soaked through his ragged shorts, thin strips of fabric all that was left of the garment below the knees. Had the Executioner survived? The amount of mana he had drained from him had not been nearly as much as… as much as he had expected.

If there were no beasts in the forest of the beast-clans, wouldn’t he just starve to death? Stopping his advance, he cocked his head to the side, peering into the distance through the multitudes of trees ahead. Try as he might, there were no flickers of mana, nor any glows of energy that he could see. Behind him, there- Christoph flinched as he turned around to look back on the Paw and saw the figure of someone standing in his way.

“Emilia?” he asked, blinking rapidly. No – aside from the fur and ears, it was clearly not the beast-girl he had fought before. It wasn’t even a female, the large form obviously that of a man, a spear held in his hands.

“You have met Emilia?” the man asked. “Are you an adventurer?”

“No,” Christoph replied. “I’m being pursued by the church, she offered to take me back to her village.”

The man stepped closer in the low light, frowning slightly as his ears swiveled up. “Did she really offer you protection?” he asked.

Christoph shook his head again, glancing over the man. He wore similar clothing to Emilia herself, fur shorts and a belt that he wore around his torso in place of the wrap around top she had. His spear seemed well made, a metal tip gracing the end of the wooden handle. “She told me she couldn’t guarantee my safety, but I decided to come here anyway.”

Ears twitching again, the beast-man stepped forward, leveling his spear at Christoph’s chest. “She didn’t challenge you to a duel?” he asked.

Christoph laughed at the question. A duel? No, he’d attacked her in the tree and been sent to Forestry as a result. If they’d fought for real… “No, no,” he said. “She did tell me she was going to, but she never got around to it.”

The man smiled, but didn’t lift his spear, the steel tip barely even swaying as he held it out towards him. “You’re a good liar,” he said. “Very well, I have one more question for you.”

The laugh froze in Christoph’s throat as the man spoke, and he amassed his energy in preparation to draw his sword.

“Tell me,” the beast-man said with a grin. “Who’s blood is that?”

“Mostly,” Christoph began. “Mostly, it’s mine.”

“Don’t be modest!” A familiar voice rang out, and the man’s ears pricked up as he turned towards where Emilia had emerged behind a nearby tree. “At least half of that blood belongs to the half-elf and that knight.”

“Emilia,” the beast-man said with a nod. “Leila will be happy to hear you’re back.”

“Leila can go rut with a dwarf for all I care,” Emilia said. “Put down your spear, Oliver. That man is mine.”

“He says you haven’t yet fought a duel.” Oliver replied.

“That doesn’t matter,” Emilia said, prancing over to Christoph as she drew her daggers. He froze up slightly, but refrained from drawing his sword.

“What were you planning?” she asked. “Did you think that once you made it across the border you’d be safe?”

Christoph looked back at her, shoulders falling as he sighed. “I just didn’t want to die,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Great,” Emilia said with a smile. “Come with me, I’ll keep you alive at least.”

…

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Lucius said.

“Speak your apologies to the Bishop himself,” Claude said, raising his head from where he had bowed down in prayer, his hands clasped as he knelt in the courtyard.

“Father Molt is grieving the loss of his child,” Lucius replied. “I will not intrude upon that.”

“Yet you will intrude upon our expedition?” Claude asked, rising to his feet.

“I will,” Lucius replied. “That man must be slain no matter the cost.”

“He will be slain,” Claude said. “The Paladins may be few in number, but do not think us less effective than the Templars.”

“I do not,” Lucius said. “Even so, Sir Gideon has experience both with the forest clans and with Christoph. His insight would be invaluable.”

“I don’t care of your plans,” Claude declared, facing the younger boy. “We will set out into the beast forest and slay the demon. If Executioner Gideon wishes to beg us for company he may do so. Until then, I have no wish to gaze upon your face.”

“I did not ask for this either,” Lucius said, tilting his head and peering at the slightly older man through his glasses. “Even so, I see much more than faces when I lift my head from evening prayer.”