Chapter 14

Heated. That’s how I felt.

My knuckles turned pale around the branch I was holding,I clenched my fists so hard I was sure I could’ve crushed it. I had half a mind to march back and smash Azul’s face in, but that wouldn’t put beavers in my traps. I had to calm down.

My rage was getting the better of me.

Out here, anger would only make me careless. I’d be more likely to get caught off guard and killed—or go back empty-handed.

That was worse.

If I went back empty-handed, I wouldn’t just be humiliated. Big Randy wouldn’t trust me with another deal. I couldn’t afford that. Not now.

I took a deep breath. I had been able to take a short look at the map Azul had given me.That didn’t tell me anything worth a damn. The bastard gave me the wrong one.

Thinking about it now, he barely even checked the map when I got it.

Fine, I’d just rely on my instincts and experience. Beavers stuck close to water, and water meant lowland. I scanned the trees, searching for a drop in the terrain, a line of willows—anything that hinted at a river or pond.

I’d done this before, when I was younger, I’d gotten lost in the forest and had to look for water. It wasn’t that hard, the trick was to find a deer. They always knew where to find water.

I wanted to make this quick because I would have to find more beaver spots to meet the conditions I had agreed to. Especially since I had made that deal with Big Randy.

I spotted one after some time. A fat, skittish creature, its ears twitching at every sound. I followed it, careful to keep my distance.

I trailed it for over an hour to water.

Hahahah!!! Good, now I just had to check this place out for beavers. Hopefully I would be able to find some here.

I rose up to my feet, spooking the deer I had been trailing. It immediately ran off. Maybe i should have shot it? It was fat, so it would last for a while.

I shook the thought away. I had bigger priorities. I started trailing the banks of the pond.

Not long after, I noticed them beavers. Lots of them.

My lips curled into a grin.

I started to prepare myself, but I hadn’t brought any traps. Bad thinking on my part. I couldn’t let my emotions control me like that.

All of a sudden a chill ran down my spine.

The beavers… stopped.

No casual splashing, no sounds of gnawing wood. They huddled together near the bank, their bodies tense.

Something was wrong.

I crouched, scanning for cover. A tree. I climbed quickly, making sure there were no snakes hidden in the branches. A nasty surprise in a hiding spot was the last thing I needed.

The leaves were thick enough to conceal me, so I settled in. I notched an arrow, I was prepared to shoot at the sound of anything I didn't know.

I’d rather be paranoid and alive than… well, I didn't want to dwell on that.

Below, the beavers still acted that way. Spooked.

They huddled together, barely tapping their tails against the water. The young ones hidden in the middle. Something they sometimes did when predators were around.

Then, it emerged.

A shadow slid beneath the water—fast, precise. A massive shape broke the surface, sleek and sinuous, like an otter the size of a panther.

A shrill, high-pitched cry cut through the air. “CRRRRRRRRR”

The sun hit its fur, and for a moment, it shimmered like liquid metal.

Long-bodied, with slick, oily fur and stubby but powerful legs, its claws curved into wicked edges. But the eyes—they were the most striking. Almost glowing. Its face was framed with gill-like slits, opening and closing as it breathed.

The sun hit it and it was like it was hitting water.

Its claws had a wicked edge.

I could feel its presence as it moved, not just see it. It moved like a big cat, almost gracefully, predator.

The beavers shrieked in response to the beast. Huddling closer together. The beast didn’t care. The adult beavers, one of them gaining the courage, decided to try and nip at the beast as it came down on them.

The adult beaver broke away, chattering aggressively. It lunged, baring its teeth.

The spirit beast paused.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It focused on him, almost amused at the defiance.

In a blur, it pounced.

The beaver didn’t stand a chance. The moment the beast’s fangs touched its neck, it was dead.

With barely a splash, the creature vanished beneath the water, swimming towards the other side of the pond.

I held my breath.

Seconds later, it emerged on the far bank, trotting toward the forest.

Then, it stopped.

It turned its neck to the side. Looking at my exact direction. It sniffed the air. Looking for something.

Then it locked eyes with me.

I froze.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

It was too fast. I wouldn’t be able to shoot it before it reached me.

It kept staring.

Two seconds. Three.

Then, it shook itself, water spraying from its coat, and turned away.

It disappeared into the trees.

I didn’t move for another five minutes.

A spirit beast.

I had finally seen one.

Was that what cultivation could do to a beast?

Jealousy. After fear, that was my first emotion.

Then cold hard rationale. The beavers were scared, huddled together and I had a bow and arrow.

It was a massacre. I shot down 13 of the beavers. Far more than I could carry. If i built a sled I could take maybe five or six.

I would have to put the rest somewhere that no one but me would be able to get it. But first…

I set out making a sled. I had to hurry before anything else caught the scent of blood and found me standing here like an idiot.

First, I needed a good base—something strong but not too heavy. I scanned the area, eyes darting between the trees. Birch? Too brittle. Pine? Might work, but I needed something straighter, sturdier. Then I spotted them—two young saplings, thick enough to hold weight but flexible enough to bend without snapping.

Just like father taught me.

He used to take me into the woods, showing me how to build things with whatever we could find. "A good sled isn't just about carrying weight," he'd say, tying off the knots with a swift tug. "It's about making sure it doesn’t slow you down."

I yanked out my dagger and got to work.

I yanked out my dagger and got to work. The first swing sent a satisfying *crack* through the air. A few more, and the saplings groaned, tilting before finally giving way. I stripped the branches quickly, tossing the scraps aside. They’d just get in the way.

Next, I needed a crossbar. Something to keep the frame together. I found a shorter branch, about as thick as my wrist, and hacked it to size. It had to be strong enough to hold the load, but not so heavy that it weighed me down.

Now for the bindings. If I had rope, this would be easy—but I didn’t. That meant improvising. I crouched near a tree, peeling long strips of bark, twisting them into makeshift cordage. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold.

I lashed the crossbar across the narrower ends of the saplings, forming a long, stretched-out “V.” Tight knots, no room for slack. I gave it a few tugs—solid.

The carrying surface was next. I needed a base to keep the beavers from dragging against the dirt. No time for fancy weaving. I grabbed more branches, stripping them down and laying them across the frame, securing them with more bark. If I had a hide, I would’ve draped it over, but I’d have to make do with what I had.

The thicker ends of the poles—the part that would drag—needed smoothing. I took my hatchet and hacked at the edges, blunting them just enough so they wouldn’t snag on every damn root and rock along the way.

Finally, I hefted the beavers onto the sled, their bodies limp and heavy. five of them. Far more than I could carry on my back. I tied them down, looping the bark strips over their bodies, pulling them tight so they wouldn’t spill out.

I kept the rest of the beavers hidden wherever I could put them. The rest of the alive beavers not daring to come close to me

I took a breath, testing the weight. Heavy. But manageable.

Gripping the sled’s frame, I leaned forward and pulled. The poles flexed, the sled groaned, but it moved. Slow at first, but steady.

Now I just had to get back before it got really dark. Before anything else decided I looked easier to catch than those beavers.

The forest floor was uneven, roots and rocks jutting out like nature’s obstacles. The travois groaned as it slid over the rough terrain, the poles scraping against the ground.

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It was hell getting the sled across the forest floor, especially with trying to avoid predators. I even took the shortest route, but by the time I got to the outskirts of the city, the gates were minutes away from closing..

I hurried forward. If they locked up, I'd be stuck outside all night with a pile of fresh beavers and blood in the air. That wasn’t happening.

I was the only one there except for a few guards. It was the same ones I had met when I first came to Lunis.

One of them stepped forward, squinting at me. Jerki, stopping me.

“What do we have here, kid?” He gestured for the other guard—Michael—to come over.

“Beavers. I have a contract with the blacksmith, Big Randy and Azul.”

Jerki let out a low whistle. “Oh? Someone’s coming up in life.” His eyes flicked to the pile of carcasses.

“Yeah. Did you give up on cultivation? I hear that beavers are expensive. Especially this time of year”

I shrugged, keeping my face neutral. “I just know I have to get them to Azul and Big Randy. Azul said they were for some nobles.” I let the last part hang, watching for a reaction.

Both guards shared a glance. They got the message.

“Hmph.” Jerki rubbed his chin, taking the lead. “Well, I’ve been hearing rumors. Some young man’s been throwing barbecues over in the Humilis district. And from the way folks describe him…” He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds an awful lot like you. You know anything about that?”

“Just something I do on the side.”

Michael grinned. “If it’s just something you do on the side, you wouldn’t mind bringing us some, eh?”

Jerki nodded his head enthusiastically. He was already picturing himself with a plate of roasted meat.

I held back a sigh, before realising they could lock me out. They had me. If I refused outright, they could make my life difficult. And I had better things to do than argue with gate guards.

And I wanted to hurry up and get to azul. To shove it in his face. This was wasting my time.

“I won’t be able to bring anything myself,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Hunting and filling Azul’s orders takes up too much time. But if you come by, I’ll talk to the supervisor. Make sure you get through.”

They exchanged looks, coming to a silent agreement.

“Alright,” Jerki finally said, stepping aside. “You’re lucky you made it before we locked up.”

Michael smirked. “We’ll be coming over soon. Make sure there’s something for us.”

I gave a half-nod and pulled my sled through.

As I walked away, I heard them talking behind me.

“Hah! Told you he’d come up. Glad he owes me a favor.”

“Lying bastard! You were betting on how long it’d take for him to get rejected and find a real job…”

Gates shut behind me—Azul’s smug face waited ahead, this was going to be good…