"Coddled," Hector muttered under his breath.

It wasn't for my ears but he had no idea how good my hearing was. My senses were close to three times more accurate and precise than before my father's funeral.

The way he looked at me conveyed true hurt. As if I had betrayed his trust.

I tried to remember in which month Hector had been born. I was but a baby when it happened but surely someone had talked about it at one time or another. My memory came up with nothing on that matter. But one thing was obvious. Hector had a high rarity Class but a low level. I doubted he had many opportunities to level up since he obtained his Class. His combat skills were good and I didn't doubt his Class was combat-oriented. Maybe a hybrid combat-ruler type. Very-Rare at least, Epic or maybe even Legendary.

And yet, the Lord dispatched this many people to keep him safe. Any combat that came our way would give him meager scraps of Experience. The Lieutenant would only let Hector fight alone if he was sure the scion wouldn't be severely hurt, maimed, or killed.

The lordling stared at me. "Did your father request you to keep me safe?"

"It goes without saying, Hector," I retorted. "You wanted a friendly spar. As exercise. This was not a match to determine who was the better warrior. We all have our strengths. Mine does not lay in melee combat."

Only after the words escaped my lips did I notice the last sentence was the wrong thing to say.

"And yet..." He shook his head and paused. When he faced me again, his expression was once more the mask of a dilettante he cultivated. "Never mind. You are correct."

He looked away.

"HEYA!" With a mighty shout, Hector leaped toward me, placing the full weight of his body behind his sword as he held it high above his head. Wrath twisted his face and clouded his judgment.

I readied my staff to block and deflect the strike to the side. Before we could connect, the Lieutenant blurred from his spot and appeared between us, a kite shield held upward to receive Hector's strike. The training sword clanged against the shield and flew off the scion's hand. Hector landed in front of the Lieutenant.

A soldier ran to fetch the training weapon. I sidestepped. Hector was hunched, heaving heavily as he fought to rein in his feelings.

Silence. Everyone watched to see what the young master would do. "Let's retire for the night. Captain, organize the night watch."

*

*

For a week, we ranged into the woods searching for signs of the Wolfertinger male. The forays took two or three days and the ground we covered depended on who went. Hector, the Lieutenant, and the two mages remained at the base camp in old Mc Donovan's farm, while the guards alternated with the rangers.

Some rangers were faster than me but not as fast, when I took my enchanted boots into account. While my Class was specialized in finding things, the rangers had way better woodland movement than me. While I had a way to reduce the penalties, they had not only that but also movement bonuses in forested areas.

It gave me conflicted feelings. The boots I wore cost several years of wages for them. They didn't know I had them, of course. My faster movement speed was rationalized as the effect of some Perk. Since they believed me to be of a much higher level than I really was, it was the easier explanation.

On the eighth day since our arrival, we finally found traces of the Wolfertinger male. A bear carcass laid in a clearing, with radial tree-root-like patterns on the ground. They resembled the faint scar on my chest. On closer examination, the bear fur was singed and burned. It was also a day or two old, given how the blood around was already dry and flaking. The forest environment was moist and cold this time of the year and those factors delayed the process.

I quickly climbed a tall tree and checked. With that, we confirmed the direction the Wolfertinger male took after he left the nest. We finally had a lead toward our prey.

The group returned to the base camp. As we went, we took notes of landmarks and sought a trail the one-horse wagons could take. Dismantling the camp and setting out on our course took only a few hours. I was impressed at how effective the military was to put up and take down these tents and the camp.

Stolen story; please report.

Reaching the location the ranger group and I took only a few hours to travel to meant a three-day trip for the wagons. And that with the soldiers taking turns to go ahead with axes and machetes to open the way for them. Otherwise, some sections would be impassable.

My job was to check the area ahead and around the wagon train for threats. I killed anything vaguely aggressive in our way and scared the peaceful wildlife. I took what I could find and carry back to the group to be cooked in the night stew. Meat, herbs, and edible mushrooms.

Hector's mood brightened just a bit once we reached the dead bear carcass. Scavengers took what they could and left the rest for the flies. Insects buzzed around. At Hector's command, one of the mages cast a spell that killed all the bugs in a wide radius around the site of the lightning strike. Hector inspected the location, bugs crunching underneath his boots.

"Do we know where the monster went to?" Hector asked me.

I nodded. "The Wolfertinger family came from somewhere. I believe that, without his female, he went back to where he spawned and grew in. That would be deeper into the forest in that direction."

"Then we go. Lieutenant, make sure we aren't delayed. Magister Ollie, can you help make the wagons move faster?"

"I can surely try," the mage replied. "Moving the roots and smoothing the ground will drain most of my MP, though."

"We don't expect anything too strong but our quarry."

The mage shrugged and proceeded to cast his spells to basically build a trail for the wagons. He was smart and skilled; his magic affected only the narrow strips where the wheels were supposed to pass. The drivers had little trouble making sure they stayed on the path.

*

*

Sighting the beast happened three days after we passed the dead bear. The Wolfertinger male was flying in circles around a tall groove of trees, firing lightning from his antlers as he went.

A boulder flew from the trees and almost hit the majestic monster. I could only imagine the day I could fly on the back of the lazy-ass pup sleeping in my pack. The little monster was eating fresh meat every day and was gaining weight like nobody's business. I could swear he had crossed the four-kilogram threshold and that was crazy in so little time. His form was filling nicely. He was a bit bigger but way rounder than his dead siblings were when alive.

"George, go ahead and see what our quarry is fighting against. If possible, disable it," Hector ordered.

"Sure thing," I said, ignoring the imperious tone he used. I was not one of his subordinates. The spar and his reaction soured the budding relationship between us. In Hector's head, he likened me to one of his tutors or one of the army officers and left it at that. His loss, actually.

I checked my gear. The delay caused Hector to groan but I didn't care. I would live or die based on the preparedness of my equipment. Then, I was off. I ran across the forest, eyes scanning for threats. But combat was a fickle thing and if I wanted to get there before it ended, I had to be fast.

The change between the new and the old forest was sensible. It was as if a thin membrane separated the two areas. Considering the weak sensitivity to magic I had, the difference had to be significant. The forest ahead of me demanded respect. It was old and wise, secluded and mysterious. It might be inhabited by fey, or under the protection of a mighty guardian. In any case, it was better to tread with respect and caution.

But the battle still raged ahead of me. The Wolfertinger roared and howled, firing lightning bolts with a cadence of around forty to thirty seconds. I heard wood creaking and heavy boulders sailing through the air, landing in the distance. Whatever the wolf-rabbit-elk-hawk hybrid was fighting, it was massive and strong. Durable enough to resist the monster's magic too.

I saw the trees moving ahead. My heart pounded with wonder and excitement. Was the creature strong enough to throw trees now that it had ran out of boulders? Would it be a giant? What monsters I knew of that could throw boulders like that?

Lightning struck, illuminating the forest. I saw tall trees, standing thirty meters tall, with heavy canopies that blocked the light from the suns. In between them, another tree, also thirty meters tall moved with a boulder in one of its branches.

Above, the Wolfertinger male howled. The boulder flew. By luck, I saw what happened through a gap in the foliage. The rock clipped one of the monster's wings, causing it to spiral away. The Wolfertinger recovered and steadied his flight before it crashed on the treetops, however.

I moved closer. What I saw made me freeze. A mighty humanoid of wood and bark, crowned by the greenest leaves. Atop its trunk, right before the branches composing the crown, rested a wise and old face made entirely out of bark. It was a treant.

The Lord of the Woods was not without wounds. Entire branches were burned, singed, and leafless. The bark of its body was broken and missing in several places, revealing blackened, cracked, and burned wood underneath. His only recourse against a flying opponent wielding one of the most destructive elements known to magic was to carve the soil in search of rocks to toss at the Wolfertinger male.

Speaking of which, the monster swooped down, bright arcs coursing between its antlers. The magnitude was much greater than the female's, making me consider my estimate of its level faulty.

They attacked at the same time. No, the treant launched its volley of rocks and dirt first, straight in the path of the Wolfertinger's lightning blast. The electricity arced between the rocks and dirt clumps, seemingly with a mind of its own. Most of its energy was dispersed in the debris wave but it still struck the treant. A mighty thunderclap followed less than a second after. I heard the sound of wood creaking and falling. A massive branch of the mighty treant crashed on the ground.

The Wolfertinger male howled to celebrate its small victory. Though not defeated, the treant was severely damaged. And just like that, the not-so-little-anymore pup in my pack decided to wake up and howl back.

The treant paused and shifted to stare down at me. Fifty meters separated us. Its eyes shone with light as his face displayed a rictus of anger.

I ran.