Malt and Frisco looked at their companion collapse to the ground, and shuddered. Mark might have been wounded, and he was caught by surprise, but to bring him down with just three blows was impressive. No, it was scary.

Mark wasn't the strongest of men, but, as an outlaw, he had gone through his fair share of fistfights. Even if he didn't win them all, he also wouldn't lose so badly.

So, when they heard the black man asking who was gonna be the next one, both criminals showed the cowards they really were.

"W-We are wounded! You can't beat us!"

"Oh? Is that so?"

Higler smiled while grabbing Malt, and lifting him up. For a moment, he looked like he was going to punch him, but then he stopped, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket.

Malt was surprised when the ranger offered him a cigarette, while Drake raised an eyebrow. He had traveled with Higler for hours, and never once seen him smoke.

Cautiously, the criminal accepted the cigarette, which was then lit up by Warkin, scaring Malt to the point where he almost dropped it.

"Since I can't beat the truth out of you, I will just ask nicely. Why did you kill the blue-coats?"

Malt let out a puff of smoke, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the cigarette. Then, he squinted his eyes at Higler.

"What do I get if I tell you?"

This time the ranger seemed genuinely surprised by what he was hearing. Drake was too. Did Malt really think he was in position to make claims?

"You are Malt Guartner, wanted in two provinces by smuggling, robbery, assault, and suspicion of murder. The deal is, you tell me everything, and I just might not beat you until your teeth end up in your boots. Got it?"

As if to reinforce what his partner had just said, Warkin breathed a flame into Malt's calf, making him jump while yelling.

"Okay, okay! It was Frisco! He doesn't like soldiers, so he killed them. I didn't do anything."

"Malt, you bastard! You killed one of them as well, you two-faced a**hole!"

As would be expected, there was no honor amongst criminals. As soon as they were given the chance, they threw each other under the bus.

"Shut up, you two. Now, let's go. You can tell your story to Major Johnson, until she decides what to do with you. Drake, grab the princess sleeping on the floor, please."

He nodded, and crouched to pick up Mark. It was when he was doing so that he saw Frisco reaching out for something inside his left boot, a crazy glare on his eyes. It shone silver under the light of the campfire. A knife.

"I'm not going back to prison!"

Holding the weapon, Frisco ran towards Higler. At the moment, the ranger had his back turned to him, having considered that he was no longer a threat, especially since he had a bullet in the leg, which he seemed to ignore.

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Instincts took over Drake, faster than he could control himself. Well, he didn't wish to control himself anyway. Like lightning, he pulled out the same pistol Higler had given him earlier today, aimed at Frisco, and pressed the trigger twice. The recoil almost forced him to let go of the gun.

One bullet hit the bandit in the stomach, and the other in the chest. He still stumbled two more steps before falling face-first. Meanwhile, Higler had already turned around, and was wielding his own firearms. However, when he saw the body, he whistled, all the while keeping an eye on Malt to guarantee he wouldn't try anything.

"Thanks, kid. I owe you one. I didn't search the rat properly."

Drake wasn't listening to him. He was staring at Frisco's body, his mind in disarray. He had just killed a person. Another human.

Suddenly, he felt nauseous. Losing his grip on his pistol, he let it fall. Higler frowned, worried, but said nothing. He thought it was better that Drake went through that by himself. Well, maybe not totally alone.

"Tutu...?"

Frainer could sense that his companion wasn't feeling too well. As an Ifere barely a week old, the green ball of mist considered Drake his parents. It glued to his face, transmitting all his thoughts, emotions, and worries to him.

Drake, who was in a chaotic state of mind, suddenly felt Frainer. It was a presence in his mind, comforting him. It instantaneously cleared all his doubts and fears.

Smiling, he patted the Ifere, who made a happy noise. Higler, who was tying Malt and Mark - he wouldn't make the same mistake twice - nodded approvingly. That's how the connection between two beings bound by a Spirit Contract should be. He grinned at Warkin, who climbed his body until it was on his shoulder.

"Ready? We need to bring the bodies back. There's probably a reward, if you want it."

"No... I don't care about it. And... Sorry for not helping you earlier. If it wasn't for Warkin, you could have died."

"That's why I have him. We always have each other's back. And you had mine. I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for you. Come on, shake it."

The ranger put his open hand forward, and Drake grabbed it. After this short but eventful experience, he didn't see the man as a legend anymore, but as a friend.

Together, they put all the bodies - plus Mark - on their Yscalents, and started the journey back to the outpost. They could have slept there instead of traveling through the night, but neither of them felt like doing so amongst the corpses.

---------------------------

Once again, their arrival at the outpost caused a sensation. It wasn't everyday that someone brought eleven bodies in less than forty-eight hours. Major Johnson was immediately warned, even though it was barely morning.

She arrived soon, when Drake and Higler were just getting down from their Yscalents. Her uniform was perfect, and nothing on her complexion showed she had just woken up.

"I had heard you rangers use heavy hand, but I didn't think it would be like that. What about those two? Didn't fancy burying them too?"

Malt and Mark exchanged glances shocked. Only now they learned that their opponent was a ranger. Now, instead of planning revenge, they were thanking the Mystic Iferes that they were still alive.

"It was your soldiers they killed, major, so it's only fair you be the one to take care of them. Although the other five didn't like the idea very much... Plus, I didn't do it all alone."

"Oh? The kid? You got a good seedling right there. Your name is Drake, right? Ever thought about joining the military? Your kingdom needs you."

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't go stealing him right under my nose! I found him first!"

While the two people bickered, Drake couldn't help but feel a little proud, and a lot excited. From the way Higler was talking, it was evident he thought he had potential.

"Sergeant, take these bodies away, and bury them. Away from our people. Corporal, put these two in a cell. I will decide what to do with them later. Ranger, come to my office, I want a report..."

"Hard pass on that one, Johnson, but I prefer not to be stuck inside. It's morning, and Drake and I got a lot of ground to cover."

Hearing that, Drake groaned. He had been awake for the past twenty-four hours, and now there was more. Still, he wouldn't complain. A new day, new adventures.