After the centaur had left the little stream again, Marcel continued sitting in that space, thinking things over.

At first he was about to call off the whole thing. Hunting a deer and finding out whatever favorite trinket of an old farmer it had swallowed was one thing. Fighting a giant mythological creature that even Hercules had struggled against quite another.

Half a silver definitely wasn’t worth risking, and most likely losing, his life for.

On the other hand now that he knew he was dealing with a somewhat sapient being, he reevaluated the whole quest. He had found the phrasing from the farmer weird from the beginning. How could a deer have stolen something?

Marcel had simply assumed that meant swallowed, but what if it didn’t? Maybe the creature had actually stolen something from the farmer. Why a centaur would do that instead of taking it by force Marcel didn’t know. Nor how the old farmer had even managed to injure it.

Whatever the reasons though, Marcel doubted it would react very nicely if it found him sneaking around its lair. Despite his progress he had no illusions that he would be able to take on a creature like that with his current skills. Not only was it gigantic, it had an aura of power that made Marcel's hairs stand on edge just thinking about it.

He already played through how he would return to the guild. How he would hand Fredirk the contract back. He didn’t care about the mockery in the form of a raised eyebrow the man would give him. Nor did he care much if he missed the payday. Generous as it was, he could simply do a few more sewer missions instead.

But there was a quiet voice in the back of his mind. A voice he had tried to silence every day since his first mission had gone so horribly wrong. It was urging him to challenge. Was asking him to dare.

Marcel roughly followed the way the centaur had left. It didn’t take long until he had a very distinct trail. He had thought it would be harder to track down this creature of the forest in its domain, but it turned out that the odor of horse manure stays the same no matter how many human parts you added.

The beast was bathing in the sun in the middle of a huge clearing. Behind it was the opening of a cave, its entrance spiked with different stones. Marcel carefully peeked out from the trees, not even daring to breathe loudly. Luckily the thing seemed to be dozing off in the afternoon sun though, and didn’t notice him at all.

After a little observing Marcel came to the conclusion that whatever stolen goods the beast had, must surely be in the cave. He wanted to move until the beast went for another drink at the stream, or maybe left for some other occasion, but since he started watching the clearing it hadn’T moved at all.

He glanced at the bits of sky that shone through the thick canopy of the woods. It wouldn’t stay bright much longer, in a few hours night would slowly start to settle in. Marcel wanted to avoid staying in the forest, and near the centaur, as much as possible at night.

The centaur seemed fast asleep. It hadn’t moved in the better part of an hour. Maybe that would be his best chance. Steeling himself Marcel carefully stepped onto the clearing.

He moved along the tree line as silent as possible, careful to always stay behind the cover of the thick green growings. Every step he did he double checked to make sure there was no twig or anything else that would reveal him with treacherous sounds underneath.

Progress was painfully slow, he felt like a snail climbing up the wall of a house. Finally he did reach the edge of the forest though.

Now came the hardest part. He had to make his way across the clearing,edging along the side of the rock until he made it to the cave entrance. It was only a few meters, and the centaur was turned away, but Marcel still felt his heart sliding into his stomach.

It took a few concentrated breaths to convince himself. His mind got blurry when he entered the clearing. His heartbeat was too loud for thoughts. Every step he glanced at the direction of the centaur. Every moment he was afraid to hear an outcry or the beating of hooves. He couldn’t think straight.

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If that thing saw him, it would be over.

Suddenly he stood in the entrance of the cave. He hurried around the corner, taking cover behind a particularly large rock. Only then, out of direct sight, did he allow himself to take a deep breath and relax somewhat.

The relaxation only lasted for a second though, as his eyes fell onto some oddly shaped stone next to him. A skull. Immediately his heartbeat sped up again, pouncing in his chest. He looked around.

All the stone she had found oddly shaped around the cave entrance from the outside now proved to be bones in different sizes. Somewhere small, probably of rabbits and deers and such.

But others, others were big. Too big. And they scratched very uncomfortably at his memories of natural history museums.

It made him feel uncomfortable. Gloomy even. But strangely enough Marcel didn’t feel shocked. He had spent too much time in this world already. His hands had been washed in too much blood and he had seen too many things.

All he felt was a detachment and a sense of danger. He knew the thing could be dangerous before, and needed to operate under the assumption that it was. So what if his thesis was undoubtedly proven before his eyes?

He continued into the cave.

The light broke a few steps into it. He didn’t dare to light a torch, afraid the smoke and flames would somehow alert the centaur.

Fortunately he had other options though. He pulled out the small round stone he had purchased before. He closed his fist around it and channeled some mana. It immediately began to glow in a soft bluish light, illuminating the cavern ragged cavern walls.

Now Marcel took in the true size of the cavern for the first time. Its opening was somewhat small, for centaur standards at least, but it opened up into a wide and high chamber behind. It extended further forwards than Marcel could see, the sliver of light from the stone not enough to show him the end of the centaurs lari.

What it did show him though, were dozens of riches scattered across the floor, glinting in the stones' soft light.

There were pieces of armor, strewn around. Some broken or rusty beyond repair, others looking like they couldn’t have been here for more than a day. In between them were weapons, torn backpacks and trinkets of every kind. A few oil lamps, flasks, and even books.

Marcel's eyes almost fell out with greed when he saw that. His contract didn’t react to one of these things though, so Marcel ventured further. He thought about pocketing a few things for himself, but most pieces were too big and unwieldy to simply stow. Besides he had not much use for some of the clanky armor or weapons around here. He was plenty happy with his own spear.

He continued further down the cave. It extended in a twisted corridor, different assortments strewn all along the way. Every step Marcel took was as silent as possible, and still felt loud as rolling thunder to him. The cave stretched and stretched, until Marcel finally stumbled upon something interesting.

There was a room at the end of the long tunnel. Or at least a room is what it most closely resembled. There wasn’t a bed or anything, but a giant mountain of hay on the floor. There was also another chamber this room led to behind the bed, and a desk almost as tall as Marcel's head. In the dim light he couldn’t make out what wood it was made of, but it looked sturdy. Instead of a chair, it simply seemed to have a walk in space. Did the centaur need a desk?

His contract still gave no indication that he had found the trinket. But his curiosity urged him to explore the desk.

Marcel had to stand on his toes to be able to look over the centaurs desk. He hadn’t been sure what to expect of the working space of such a creature, but whatever he had imagined on the large wooden table, was completely the opposite of what he had found.

There were stacks of paper neatly lined up. A few hard leather bound books were stacked against the wall, and an assortment of pencil’s, in every different grade and variety, were lined up perfectly next to each other like a row of soldiers ready for inspection. He touched the tip of one, felt its sharp edge pang against his finger.

There was even a candle in the corner of the desk.

All the items looked like on a perfectly normal desk, if somewhat oversized. He wanted to turn away again to explore the rest of the cave, when his eyes fell stuck on something. A little purple booklet, with tiny filigrane lettering on it. Something about it piqued Marcel’s interest, but it was too far to the back of the desk for him to simply reach.

And he was on a clock here, the centaur could wake up and come in any minute.

He left the desk again, and made his way towards the chamber at the back of the room. Halfway there, a foul smell assaulted his nose. It was like rotten eggs and protein shakes long not cleaned. It only grew worse the closer he got.

He rounded around the corner, and found his breath taken away. The room he had found wasn't an extension of the twisted tunnel, it also wasn’t another office, or like Marcel had hoped after noticing the smell, the bathroom maybe.

No, it was what was best described as a slaughter chamber.