Carl was running as fast as he could, but it was useless. He could hear them, getting closer and closer. He could smell their rotten breath on his scalp. He could feel their excitement as they hunted their prey. The more terrified he got, the more enjoyable it was for them.

Tripping over a root in his panic-stricken sprint, he flew a good two or three meters before crashing into the ground brutality. He felt twigs and stones cutting deep into his flesh, and dirt got into his eyes, making them burn. However, he was too full of adrenaline to feel any real pain. He got up, scraped the dirt out of his eyes, and started running again, only to crash into a tree in his blindness.

They were closer now, Carl could feel it. They knew he couldn't run anymore, so they had slowed down to prolong their sadistic desires, but soon they would be all over him, tearing into his flesh, ripping pieces of him off. Just the thought of it was enough to send shivers down his spine, and he almost broke down and cried here and there. He was scared. Very, very scared.

But the mission was more important than how he was feeling. Slowing down his ragged breathing, he pulled two things from his pocket. The first one was a sheet of paper, filled with so many words that it was hard to distinguish one from another. The second thing was a small camera.

"Hey, buddy, I need you to do me a favor, okay?"

Carl patted his chest, and a small head poked out of it, scared beyond measure. He calmed his companion with a few hurried whispers, and smiled as if nothing was wrong.

"I need you to take these back home, okay? It's urgent, and I don't think I will be able to make it in time."

The Ifere made some low noises, complaining. It knew it's companion was lying. Carl, however, gave it an even more reassuring smile, and pushed the note and the device in it's paws.

"Go on, quick! I will see you soon, old friend."

Reluctantly, the Ifere took off, flapping it's wings to lift off with it's burden. It looked back a few times, only to see Carl sitting on the ground with his back against a tree, and waving at it with a big smile on his face. And then the growling started.

The Ifere turned it's head away from the noise, and away from it's companion. No matter how much it pained it, it didn't look back, not even when the screaming started. It knew the only way to avenge it's companion was to deliver the items.

"Don't let it get away!"

It heard the command, and instinctively dove down, but it didn't manage to avoid the attack completely. A sharp pang of pain almost made it drop the camera, but it held on, trying it's best to ignore the spike that was still stuck to it's now broken and useless wing.

It would survive. It would get back home, and it would make sure Carl's killers got what they deserved. So absorbed in those thoughts, the Ifere didn't notice that it was losing altitude, and it's vision was going black. With a few last flappings of it's good wing, the Ifere plummeted down.

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

"Good catch, Kniivar!"

Excited, Drake patted his companion's head, giving special attention to the base of her horns, which he had already learned she enjoyed. Then, he leaned over and grabbed the Crawtter that the Ifere had just killed. Tonight they would eat well. Or, at least he would. Kniivar was a herbivore, and Frainer ate dreams, so he was pretty much the only one who could eat the delicious Ifere.

After breaking open the hard outer shell of the Crawtter with his knife, and revealing the juicy white meat under it, Drake lit up a fire, and started roasting it. Soon, a delectable aroma found it's way to his nose, making Drake salivate. He was by no means a masterchef, but it was hard to ruin a good old Crawtter roast.

After eating to his heart's content, he salted the rest of the meat, and packed it for later. After all, he had killed for the food, so it wouldn't do to waste it. Getting up and stretching, he packed his things, and got onto his Yscalent again. Taking a swing from a bottle of some kind of juice he managed to get from another group of travelers he met the day before, he told his companions that it was time to go.

Four days had passed since they left Ricker, and while Frainer could still easily sit on his shoulder, due to it's almost weightless body, Kniivar was forced to run alongside the Yscalent. Iferes grew faster than humans, and it had been a good two weeks since Drake and the wood-type Ifere had signed their Spirit Contract. Although Kniivar was just about half a meter long now, it was still a little bit too much for Drake's poor mount to carry all of them. Kniivar's mother was just short of three meters long, which was a testament to how big the species could get.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Falling back in the same routine they had created, the group followed the road - barely more than a trail through the forest. The somewhat bare environment of Kinton Valley had once again given place to closed woods, making Drake wonder just when they would find some other scenery to look at.

"Grrr..."

Suddenly, Kniivar stopped, snout twitching, and inspected the trees to their left before letting out a low growl. Drake reached for his rifle, and scanned the forest, but saw nothing. Still, he could feel Kniivar's worry, and he trusted his companion.

"Let's go have a look."

Whatever it was that caused the Ifere to be anxious, it didn't pose an immediate threat, otherwise Kniivar would have already used Wood Realm to protect them. If she was only growling, it meant she wasn't too sure of what it was, but at least it shouldn't be dangerous.

Dismounting, he advanced through the trees, gun in hand. It took a while, but he too noticed what had set Kniivar off. There was a heavy smell of blood in the air, and it was getting stronger. Even more careful now, he slowed his pace until he found the source of the acrid smell.

There was an Ifere laying in a pool of it's own blood between the roots of a tree. The dirt and soil around it were clearly soaked with the blood, but it was still wet, meaning that it couldn't have happened too long ago. Still keeping an attentive eye on the surroundings, Drake knelt next to the Ifere, and checked it's condition before shaking his head. It was still warm, but dead. It must have bled out after being wounded.

"I recognize it... It's a Sercoliot. But what is one of them doing here? It's way out of their normal routes. And these wounds..."

How could Drake not recognize the Ifere? Sercoliots were used to deliver everything, from letters to packages. He used to see hundreds of them every day. Their tenacious nature meant they would stop at nothing to complete their task, and their resilience and stamina allowed them to fly through day and night, sometimes managing to traverse over a three hundred kilometers in a single day.

He didn't know how far the creature in front of him had traveled, but he couldn't help but admire it's determination. The scaled right wing of the Sercoliot had been pierced by a black spike the size of Drake's palm. Not only that, but the tip of the spike managed to pierce all the way through the wing, burying deep inside the Ifere's chest. And yet, despite those grievous injuries, the Sercoliot didn't relax it's grip on the items it was carrying.

Prying it's claws open, Drake grabbed the crumpled ball of paper, and the small camera. The Sercoliot was probably doing a delivery between two cities when it was attacked by a wild Ifere, and deviated from it's route. Maybe the letter would give him a clue as to who was the sender or receiver of the items, and he could complete the delivery in the Ifere's stead.

"Let's see... Uhm?"

He first opened the letter, only to find that it was filled with incomprehensible scrambles. And by incomprehensible, Drake meant nonsensical. It talked about leaves falling in autumn, winter arriving earlier, with all it's four hundred thousand snowflakes. There a lot of other things he didn't understand, and the paper couldn't even qualify as a love poem. It was the writings of a mad person.

Frowning, he folded the letter, and put it into his pocket. There was no address or name on it, not even a stamp. Hoping that the camera would give him more clues, Drake turned it on. The images he saw left him speechless for a long while.

Albeit the photos had been taken from a long distance, and the quality was poor due to the zoom, he could still clearly identify what the dots were. Soldiers, thousands of them, lined up side by side. They were too far for him to see from which kingdom, but he was starting to think that the Sercoliot wasn't just a normal courier.

Passing through the pictures, he became even more certain of that. They had all been taken from far away, mainly because - Drake assumed - Sercoliot's partner didn't want to risk getting near. Considering the number of soldiers he was seeing, that was a wise decision.

"This flag... Lapidum Kingdom..."

One of the pictures was focused on a tall woman, with a shaved head, and a large scar covering half of her face. She had a huge Ifere under her, which Drake couldn't identify, but he was more concerned about the flag he could see in the background. He recognized it easily.

Lapidum Kingdom, worshippers of Exesa, Mystic Ifere of Death. Well, they didn't worship only her, but legends said their first queen was contracted to the Mystic Ifere, so it was understandable they would pay more respect to it. All the kingdoms were the same. But that wasn't what concerned Drake now.

Lapidum and Menoraz had always been at odds, at least as far as history books went. If Drake wasn't wrong, the last war between the two kingdoms had been only a little over ten years ago, and he couldn't imagine why they would start another, but he had proof in his hands that one was coming.

The next picture cleared pretty much all of his doubts. It showed about thirty corpses, half-covered in dirt, all wearing the dark blue uniforms of the Menoraz Army. The photographer had dug them out of their graves, to bring back more evidence that Lapidum was making a move on them.

Carefully putting away the camera, Drake looked at the dead Sercoliot, and sighed. He could piece together what had happened. The Ifere and it's companions were scouts or spies for the Menoraz Army, responsible for bringing back intel on enemy movements, but they were discovered. That would also explain the spike that killed Sercoliot. It should belong to a death-type Ifere.

Drake couldn't imagine that Sercoliot would willingly abandon it's companion. That was impossible, and he knew it. The fact that it was alone could only mean one thing... Unfortunately, even after the sacrifice of it's partner, Sercoliot didn't manage to escape. Maybe it was better this way. Drake had seen what people who lost their companions abruptly looked like, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Human or Ifere, it didn't matter.

"We need to get this to an outpost as quickly as possible. I don't know how far Sercoliot managed to travel, wounded as it was, so we can't consider this region safe. It's hunters might still be around. Let's go."

Running back to his Yscalent - he didn't have time to bury Sercoliot - Drake urged his companions to follow him. Jumping back on the mount, he started riding as fast as he possibly could without exhausting it too much.

Drake knew he shouldn't meddle too much in Menoraz's affairs if he wanted to be a ranger. Rangers were something outside the twelve kingdoms. Their only affiliation was to the Confederacy as a whole, and getting involved in a war would only lower his chances of joining Higler and his peers, but... Not only Menoraz was his birthplace and home for over twenty years, countless innocent people would lose their lives if they weren't prepared for Lapidum Kingdom's invasion. They had to be warned.

Struggling to hold his map open as his Yscalent sped through the forest, Drake looked for the nearest outpost or similar. If he was to follow the road, he would have to travel more than one hundred and fifty kilometers to reach it. Even if his mount could keep it's top speed for this long - and it couldn't - it would take at least seven or eight hours to get there. He didn't know if he had this long.

"Looks like we are taking a shortcut. Through the mountains it is. Ihaaa! Let's move!"