The expedition to hunt the Wolfertinger male took three days to depart.

In the meanwhile, the punitive force sent to raid the mine was already hard at work. The Attribute points were flowing in as the army fought the kobolds. Except for Charisma and Clarity, all my Attributes were looking very good. Without the Parallel Progression, I would need over twenty extra levels to have the Attribute values I held right now.

As I approached the gathering point by the North Gate, a small crowd stood around the courtyard.

I saw a man in scale mail with a Lieutenant insignia barking orders. Twelve soldiers in traveling garbs, evenly split between rangers and soldiers guarded the perimeter. Inside of the perimeter I found two spellcasters in mage's robes looking bored. On the other side six warhorses awaited their riders next to a supply train with four horse-drawn carts and eight support personnel. The carts were full of crates and barrels. These containers were neatly labeled as rations, water, wine, weapons, ammunition, and so on.

The Lord's son arrived in an enchanted carriage that moved without horses. Instead of the usual boxy design, this one was low, aerodynamic, and made out of metal. Painted yellow, it was very attention-grabbing. I felt a premonition. Would this be one of those young master situations often depicted in books?

He wore fancy clothes, an embroidered gambeson underneath a velvet jacket and reinforced leather pants. His shoes were from some reptilian creature. He had an arming sword at his hip, the hilt full of jewels with a matching fancy scabbard.

The young man, apparently my age, immediately locked eyes with me and approached. His upbringing showed. He sported impressive physicality and smooth movements. His eyes flicked down to my Guild badge and back to full eye contact. I felt a need to step up and return his fierce gaze.

"You are George, the Guild Scout, right?" He said as he smiled and extended a hand.

Too friendly. These extrovert types seemed to want to win everyone over with just a flash of the pearly whites. I shook his hand, nonetheless. The guy put some pressure but didn't escalate it to a Strength match.

"That's me, sir," I replied without breaking eye contact.

"You may call me Hector. I hope this expedition becomes a good opportunity to deepen our connection."

The way he said it didn't creep me out, despite the possible connotation. This was someone who was born steeped into politics. And I was my father's son and Alice's protégé. The praise his father laid at my feet during the meeting hinted at their intentions. They considered me a future asset. I should be flattered but that little spark of paranoia kept me from fully committing.

"Hector, it is. Call me George, then."

"Well met, George," he said and then turned to address the soldiers. "Lieutenant, is everything ready for our departure?"

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant saluted.

"Then, let's go. My horse, please."

In this world, horses were completely optional and a symbol of status more than means of transportation. I could walk and run faster than a normal horse. To be worth the trouble, a horse needed to be leveled up. But giving any creature levels was a double-edged sword. Just like the murderhobo cats and rats who got enough levels to farm Experience out of humans in the slums, a horse would become increasingly cantankerous and willful with enough levels. Because the animals eventually gained points in Intelligence and Wisdom, making them realize their predicament.

Legend has that some mundane mounts even attained sapience and became able to use language due to some Perk they earned. People had no control over how their creatures would grow and it was dangerous unless you had some way to bond with them, like my Perk or a Beastmaster's main Skill and Traits.

And yet, as a Status symbol these horses were used. Hector, the Lieutenant, the two mages and the leader of the rangers and the archers all climbed on the horses and led the procession. The soldiers flanked the carts while I went last. The people cheered as we moved, some even throwing flowers in our path. Hector smiled and waved at the citizens, solidifying his image as the heir to the Fiefdom.

Once out of the city, I moved to the front of the line and went parallel with Hector's horse. "I'm going to scout ahead." I said and moved on. Whether Hector gave his consent or not was irrelevant. I would do my job or die trying.

The route we took would bring us straight back to Lewis' homestead and then to Old Mc Donovan's farm. And on his farm, I hope we wouldn't find a Wolfertinger. Eeh, hay, eeh, hay, ho.

*

*

At the end of the day, the convoy reached the northernmost farm of this region. I intentionally left Lewis out of the picture, afraid of the drain on their resources this would bring. The couple was too nice for their own good.

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Mc Donovan and I were at the farm gates, waiting for Hector and his retinue. The young lord nodded my way as he crossed, turned his horse around and out of the way, then watched as the wagons rolled in. Mc Donovan closed the fence and activated some ward after the last soldiers marched inside after the wagons.

"Good sir, we thank you for your hospitality," Hector said as he tossed a pouch of coins toward Mc Donovan. "Inside you will find a token you should present to the tax collector, exempting you from taxes for a whole year!"

Mc Donovan was a wise man. He clutched the pouch as if it was his firstborn and dipped his head and torso toward the ground. "thank you, milord. You are most generous!"

"Think nothing of it, farmer Mc Donovan. Lieutenant, I want our base camp set at the northernmost edge of the farm, near the forest. George, use what is left of daylight to scout the surrounding forest. Magisters Lee and Ollie, please set the wards around the base camp site."

The soldiers shouted acknowledgement and the mages just nodded. We went on our way to do our jobs and chores. I ran to the forest and started to look around for threats.

I decided to scan a circle with half a kilometer of radius around the northern edge of the farm. Inside that area, I only found a recently-spawned al-Mi'raj warren and one goblin warband that I quickly dispatched. The goblins only had crude clubs for weapons, a sign they didn't have the chance to obtain real weapons from their victims yet.

Then I went to check the Wolfertinger cave. Woodland critters made short work of the female's remains but the huge slab of rock was still blocking the entrance. I saw no signs of the male Wolfertinger and the pup didn't react at all to his birth site. With my task complete, I returned to the camp.

It was already dark when I returned. Yolanthe was rising in the east, her sinister purple glow once more casting the wilderness in strange and ominous colors. A scholar once told me purple stars were impossible to exist without magic and Yolanthe was unique. I felt relieved, the younger me. If Yolanthe was the only purple star in the universe, then the rest of the universe must not be so evil. The Witches, Demons, and Warlocks loved this time of the year when their dark powers were stronger.

The soldiers were chatting around a campfire. A cauldron of stew sent plumes of steam into the sky. Though we didn't have snow or sleet where we lived, the nights still got dreary cold.

Hector waved a hand at me. "Good friend, how about a friendly spar?"

I used all my willpower (a combination of Wisdom, Intelligence, and Charisma) to not balk at his proposal. Hector was trying to measure my abilities. It could even go as far as trying to determine the pecking order. But it posed a real issue. Everybody knew I gained my Class near the day of my father's funeral. Those who knew of Scout's Oath probably suspected it was the same day and they would be correct. I would be a fool to believe the Lord's heir didn't have the best intelligence.

It posed a real danger. He probably knew Alice had taken me down the Dungeon and the report about stampede triggered while we were at the second-floor boss room was in the City archives. While he didn't know my level, he knew I killed the female Wolfertinger and escaped from the male. My report to the Guild was most likely shared with the Lord, since we were collaborating in this enterprise.

You could measure one's Attributes, with a wide range of error, by fighting with them. Now, did Hector had this skill (lowercase S)? He was younger than me but had access to better instruction.

"I don't have much training in melee combat," I said with a nod toward my bow.

"It's fine, think of it as exercise. We are friends here, George. Think nothing of my request if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Do you even have blunt training weapons?" I asked.

"I know your bow can be used as a staff. I have a training sword among my baggage."

I didn't have much hope of evading this. I just needed to downplay my Attributes and try to keep my Parallel Progression hidden. Right now, I had the Attribute scores equivalent of a level 45 Uncommon Class. Of course, obtaining such a high level in so little time was not unheard of but very unlikely. Especially if they knew of my forays into the wilderness. Someone to reach that level would need to dive deeper into the Dungeon and kill monsters nonstop.

Faking one's Attributes required a level of fine control I didn't believe I could reach. Fighting with my full prowess was unadvised. I needed to start slow and ramp up to match Hector's prowess and then do my best to keep at that level.

I unstrung Scout's Oath and stowed the string in a pouch. This one was still good for a while and while I had plenty of spare bowstrings, no need to waste them. My equipment was my lifeline and my father taught me from an early age to take care of it.

*

*

"Let's start slow and warm up. The Lieutenant gracefully agreed to umpire our friendly spar," Hector said as we moved to our spots on a patch of grass near the camp.

The lighting would make the spar even harder. But to my surprise, four guards raised ten-foot poles with magical lanterns on top. The area became almost as bright as day. Our days were freaking bright, with two Suns.

I held my staff at a forty-five-degree angle with my body. This way, I would be ready to parry or attack.

"You may start!" The lieutenant shouted.

Hector charged and lunged. He attacked from the woman's guard. I closed in and raised the left side of my staff to parry, pushing the right side forward to slam at his exposed ribs. Hector then pressed on the parry and used the momentum to gracefully spin around like a dancer. I had to turn to keep facing him but my radius of turn was bigger than his. For a moment I lost sight of him but kept pushing the staff against his sword so I could at least tell where he was.

Crossing my arms with the left on top, I twirled the staff and brought the right side in an upward arc, still chasing his hips or ribs. Hector slid his sword down the staff shaft, seeking my hand. it wouldn't be a hard hit but if the blade was sharp, it could've severed one or more fingers. At the end of his rotation and my attack, he detached his blade from my staff and then revealed his faint. He stabbed right at my face.

I connected first. He let out a huff of air as the staff slammed on his gambeson and put pressure on his ribs. I had no other choice but to use my speed and dodge the stab. I moved to the right and down, sliding my hands over the staff to change the leverage and counter with a stab of my own, at his solar plexus.

Hector slapped the staff with his palm, once again pushing against it but letting his body move in the opposite direction. He barely budged my staff and I poked him on the left side, the staff sliding to the side of his gambeson. I tried to keep him from grabbing the staff and disarming me but he used the opening to deliver a fast strike to my left arm.

"Left arm, crippled!" The lieutenant shouted.

According to the rules, I couldn't use my left arm anymore. I changed my stance to offer my right side to Hector and held the staff in one hand. The scion used this advantage to deliver a flurry of blows, of which I could only parry a few since my weapon had a lot of inertia to be used in one hand against a faster sword.

I took a few hits to the right arm and torso. The Lieutenant called the match.

Hector seemed pensive, then he frowned. He saw through my ruse.