Under the watchful eyes of the Taurons, Drake mounted his Yscalent, and waved goodbye to Tauron River. With Fleeting Stone as his guide, he left the village. Their first stop would be the rift where the dead Iferes were, and, after that, Drake would go to Ricker. Barbarians couldn't leave the Sanctuary without being subjected to a number of questions and prejudices, so Fleeting Stone would only take him to the limits of Kinton Valley.

"Over there!"

About two hours later, the Barbarian yelled, and pointed at a crack on the ground on the horizon. Drake, however, had noticed it long ago. It was difficult not to, considering the amount of flying Iferes around it.

"I've never seen so many Necrotors at once..."

Necrotors were nasty Iferes. Their chubby body, and short, fragile wings might seem cute when you looked at them from a distance. The buzzing sound they made was weirdly calming. But when you took a closer look at them, you would realize how disgusting they actually were.

To start with, their meter-long body was covered in goop. It helped scare away any predators, because it tasted and smelled horrible. Then, there were their eyes. Dozens of them. All smaller than a pin's head, and bright orange. They covered the entire front half of it's body, not just the Necrotor's head. Finally, it's mouth resembled a straw, gross and disgusting. And, if that wasn't enough, the Iferes feasted in bodies.

Necrotors were scavengers. If something was dead, and no one else wanted to eat it, they would. They didn't care if it was poisonous or deadly. A swarm of Necrotors could devour a carcass a hundred times their size in a matter of hours. One would think that with all that, they were death-type Iferes, but in fact, they were just wind-type.

Drake looked at the swarm of Necrotors, who hadn't even turned to look at them, but instead continued to feast on the bodies. And there were many.

Maybe seeing dead Iferes wasn't as impacting as seeing dead humans, but dozens, maybe hundreds, of them gathered in a pit, half-rotten as Necrotors ate the remains... That was a bit too much. There was blood everywhere, and pieces of Yscalents and Ossruzes were scattered around, covered by a swirling mass of scavengers.

And the smell... Drake was forced to cover his nose with his sleeve, but it did little to mask it. He had seen decomposing Iferes before. Many of them, in fact, when he was at the university. He had dissected bodies, and even studied what happened to them if left for nature to take it's course. However, the smell didn't come close to what he was feeling now.

His Yscalent was shifting uncomfortably under him, and Kniivar had jumped on top of it, and buried her face in his clothes. Fleeting Stone was also frowning, and only Frainer seemed unaffected. He didn't have a nose or anything similar, after all.

Still, he fought his nausea, and walked to the edge of the rift. Ignoring the Necrotors - they were harmless - he analyzed the carcasses. Yscalents were... Well, they were like Drake's Yscalent. Different colors, but that's about it. It had been a long time since he saw an Ossruz, however.

Muscular bodies with little to no fur, standing on six legs. Feet with three fingers, ending up in curved nails, were used to cut bushes and even trees for the Ossruzes to munch on. Their skin was of a pale blue, including their long tail, dotted with keratin spikes. Their face was caved in, and adorned by a single brown eye. Unsurprisingly, they were void-type Iferes.

"Monsters... F*cking bastards..."

Drake couldn't help but mumble to himself as he left the rift behind him, and jumped on his Yscalent. The Ifere seemed happy to get out of there.

"You saw what invaders of Ricker did to Taurons, Drake Stronter. Huh! Now I take you to borders, and you help my people convince blue-coats to do something."

Young as he was, Fleeting Stone had hatred dripping from the words he spat. Drake could feel that he was simply repeating what Tauron River told him, but he would like nothing more than to grab a weapon and attack Drake's people. No... Not his people. Anyone who treated other human beings as worthless just because they were different didn't deserve to be called a human. They were bastards that had to be taught a lesson. A hefty one.

"I will do everything in my power to help the Taurons, Fleeting Stone. Please, tell Tauron River to endure it for a few more days. I will buy food and provisions for you in Ricker, and send them here."

"Uhmm... You are good invader. I will tell chief. But if you fail, we attack Ricker. Taurons aren't cowards. Huh!"

Drake stopped, and stared at the angry Barbarian, then shook his head. It was useless to say anything else to him. But he knew that he couldn't let the situation develop to that point. He still remembered the days of terror of years ago. He was barely more than a kid at the time.

Countless tribes of Barbarians united to attack Venti Kingdom. The people there were famous for their hatred and prejudice against the Barbarians, and for killing them on sight. One day, a tribe was attacked by the Venti Army, and decimated. That was the straw that broke the Amberlli's back.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Hundreds of thousands of Barbarians joined hands to attack the kingdom. Sure, many were children, elderly, or simply not fighters. The stories also exaggerated the numbers. Probably. But facts prevailed, and it was a fact that in two weeks, half of Venti Kingdom was razed to the ground, and the other half burned in the flames of war. It had been a thousand years since the last time such a large attack was made.

Eventually, the Barbarians were pushed back, after both sides suffered heavy casualties. But even now, Venti Kingdom was amongst the weaker kingdoms. No one dared to underestimate the primitive tribes anymore. Unfortunately, that respect led to even more hatred and fear, now not only in Venti Kingdom but in the other eleven too. Barbarians became a lurking threat in the eyes of many, who wouldn't miss a chance to isolate and kill them, by any means necessary.

It was stupid, unnecessary, and odious, but it was the truth. Drake never had much of an opinion on this matter, since it didn't affect him before. But now, seeing the starving Barbarian children, he only felt disgust for his fellow 'invaders'. Maybe the Barbarians in Venti Kingdom shouldn't have been so brutal, even though they were provoked. Maybe, maybe, maybe... But that didn't mean all Barbarians had to suffer for the mistakes of a few.

Without saying anything else, Drake urged his Yscalent to go faster, while Fleeting Stone tried to keep up. Kniivar and Frainer could feel he was in a foul mood, so they stayed quiet too.

Eventually, they reached the end of Kinton Valley. Drake could already see a military outpost looming in the distance. He looked at the young Tauron, who was panting, and trying his best to stand up straight. He smiled inwardly. Barbarians were prideful, and Fleeting Stone would never show tiredness in front of an invader, even if it was a friendly one.

"Thanks for your guidance, Fleeting Stone. I can take it from here. And, please, give me a few days. Don't let Kinton Valley be showered with unnecessary bloodshed."

"Humph! I believe in you, Drake Stronter. But other invaders won't like a friend of Tauron. They won't let you help us. Huh!"

Drake nodded slowly, then looked at Frainer and Kniivar. Patting the barrel of his rifle, he started riding towards the outpost. If the people of Ricker and the military refused to answer for their wrongdoings, he would take the matter into his own hands.

"Ugh..."

Startled, he looked at his hands. When had he changed that much, that he was thinking of challenging the Menoraz Army for people he didn't even know properly? He wasn't even a ranger, just a civilian. He had no authority, no power, nothing.

No, that wasn't right. He had the two Iferes by his side. He patted Kniivar, making Frainer jealous, and smiled at them. He had changed a lot in three weeks. Maybe too much. He had to remember he wasn't invincible even if sometimes it felt like he was. But he also couldn't ignore the cries for help of the Taurons. For the hundredth time in a few days, he cursed his stupid sense of justice. Still, his determination never wavered.

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Major Erinster was standing on the railings of his outpost, looking towards Kinton Valley with a binocular. He was always watching, in case the motherf*cking pieces of garbage that were the Taurons decided to leave the Sanctuary and attack Ricker. He hoped they would. That way, he could kill every single one of them. They didn't deserve to live.

While those thoughts crossed his mind, he focused on the approaching figure. It was coming from Tauron territory calmly, without a care in the world. A f*cking lover of the Barbarians, that's for sure. Otherwise, he would have taken the longer - but safer - route to Ricker.

Scoffing, he walked down the stairs, and stood next to the gate with his hands behind his back. The soldiers, knowing their commander well, straightened their backs, all the while cursing him inwardly. He knew that, and didn't care. He was an officer, they were nobodies. They could hate his guts for all he cared, as long as they followed his orders.

As he watched the young man arrive at the gate, a devilish grin crept it's way into his face, sending shivers down the soldiers' spines. They knew that face all too well. Major Erinster was about to cause trouble, and they pitted the poor soul that was his target.

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After waiting a few minutes in the line to enter the outpost, it was finally Drake's turn. He rode up to the blue-coats at the gate, and hesitated at their waiting hands. He knew what they wanted, but he wasn't sure he could agree to it. The soldiers put on a threatening expression - which had no effect on him.

"Your weapons. You can't enter the outpost with them."

After a few seconds of staring, Drake finally decided that it wasn't worth the trouble, and reached out to grab his rifle. This caused all the soldiers to tense up, but he ignored it. It was understandable. After all, few travelers were armed to the teeth as he was, and even fewer passed the kind of feeling he did. The feeling of a killer.

He had noticed that before. Drake felt nothing when looking at most people. However, after Falling Star City, when he had come to terms with having to kill, he could feel when someone had killed before. The... Instinct... Was especially strong with people like Higler and Tauron River. Clearly, both had a lot of blood on their hands. He bet the soldiers could feel it too, since none were rookies.

"Trying to cause trouble in my outpost, kid?"

After Drake handed his rifle to the soldier, they seemed to relax. He was about to do the same with his pistols when a disturbingly high-pitched voice stopped him. He looked up to see a tall man, with a sharp nose, combed blonde hair, and blue eyes staring at him in disdain. At first, Drake was confused as to why, but seeing his uniform, he understood.

Tauron River had warned him that the commander of the outpost hated Barbarians. Putting two and two together, it was easy to understand that Major Erinster saw him coming from Kinton Valley, and already considered him an enemy. He shrugged. That would make things easier, or at least faster.

Calming down Frainer, who was floating above his head, and Kniivar, who was growling, he ignored the stunned soldier, and urged his Yscalent forward. He still carried his pistols, but no one seemed to notice. The members of the Menoraz army had a resigned look on their faces, while the civilians watched interestedly.

"Talking to me, Major Erinster?"

"Ha! You know who I am? Good. What are your objectives in my outpost?"

Drake sneered, and dismounted. He knew he shouldn't, but he was doing everything as slowly as possible, just to piss off Major Erinster. It worked better than he expected. The officer's face acquired a red color, and he growled.

"Are you deaf or stupid?! I asked what do you want here!"

"I'm only passing by, major. My destination is Ricker. I have a meeting with a few bad elements there."

This seemed to surprise the major. He squinted his eyes at Drake, as if he was trying to discover who he was. However, what he saw was Kniivar, and his eyes lit up. Still, he hid it quickly.

"What are you? Bounty hunter, Null?"

"Nothing like that. I'm just someone who passed by a Barbarian village, and saw children starving to death because their Ossruzes were poisoned to death. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that they knew the culprits. I asked them why they didn't tell the army, and turns out some braindead officer ignored it because he hated Barbarians. I thought to myself that since that f*cker wouldn't do anything, I better take care of it myself."

There was a stunned silence following his words. There was no doubt who he was talking about. All eyes turned to Major Erinster, who was fuming, his blue eyes full of anger. Drake wasn't pulling back his punches - or rather, his words.