Terry leaned against a tree and tried to catch his breath. A few feet away, Kelima Silventar was bent over at the waist with her hands on her knees and gasping for air. Terry wasn’t entirely sure if he should give the noble grudging credit or be supremely pissed. He’d sprinted down the road for the better part of an hour. Part of him had hoped in vain that the annoying girl would give up and go home. However, every time he glanced back, he saw her racing after him. Since looking at her was just stoking his anger, he closed his eyes and focused on taking controlled breaths. When it was no longer a struggle to get oxygen into his lungs, he spoke without opening his eyes.

“Gods above, woman, are you part bloodhound?”

“What’s…What’s a bloodhound?” she wheezed.

Terry opened his eyes and glared at the girl.

“It’s a kind of dog that’s used to hunt and track.”

The noble brat gave him a look that was equal parts bewildered and offended. It was like she wasn’t sure exactly what he talking about but was definitely sure that he’d been insulting her. Terry supposed that she’d gotten the gist of things even if she was hazy on the details. He also noticed that while she’d done a good job of keeping up, he was recovering much faster. He’d mostly caught his breath again and thought that it would only take about one more minute before he’d be ready to sprint away again. He probably couldn’t keep up that pace for quite so long, but it didn’t look like he’d need to. Not based on the way the girl was still wheezing for breath. Part of him thought that maybe she was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. That concern was mostly put to bed when she gasped out a question.

“Why didn’t you stop?”

Terry shook his head and said, “Why the hell would I stop for the likes of you? It’s not like I enjoy your company.”

Kelima Silventar managed to straighten up and seemed to finally be catching her breath.

“You could at least pretend to respect that I’m a noble.”

Terry pretended to consider that comment like it wasn’t the stupidest piece of nonsense he’d ever heard. Then, he looked her right in the eye.

“I really couldn’t.”

“Aren’t you even going to ask why I’m here?”

“That would imply a level of interest that I lack entirely,” said Terry. “Well, I’m off. Try not to let that monster kill you.”

He turned and started to walk down the road.

“Monster?” asked Kelima. “What monste…Ahhh!”

A hulking form lurched out of the woods and took a swipe at the noble girl, who stumbled back and hastily drew a slender sword. Terry wasn’t paying much attention to either. He figured they’d keep each other busy long enough for him to make good an escape. He was about ready to run again. By his estimation, fifteen or twenty more minutes of sprinting ought to give him enough lead time to find somewhere off the road to set up camp and avoid future notice from aggravating nobles with entitlement issues. He was trying to decide what to make for dinner when a cry of pain made him pause. That had been unexpected.

He looked back and saw that Kelima had a hand pressed against her stomach. He could also see blood leaking pretty freely between those fingers. That didn’t go the way I planned, he thought. Given the way she’d kept up with him, he assumed that this would be a pretty easy fight for her. Not so easy that it’d be over immediately, but easy enough that she’d be able to win without too much trouble. He’d really just wanted to delay the girl for a bit. If he could make her life a little bit harder, well, that would have just been a bonus. He did not intend for her to die out here. He might not ever want to spend time with the girl, but it’s not like she was from the Church.

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The monster reminded him a bit of a gorilla, but it also had strange, fur-covered wings, and claws that looked like they belonged on a bird of prey. It was the kind of thing he would have fought if Ekori, Haresh, and Jaban were along for this little trip. It was also faster than anything that big had any right to be, which seemed to be something of a theme in Chinese Period Drama Hell. Kelima fended off several fast strikes, but it was obvious to Terry that she was overmatched. If not for the blood that had soaked the girl’s hand a bright, nearly crimson color, he might have thought that this was all just a show for his benefit. However, he doubted she was so committed to tricking him that she’d intentionally take a serious injury.

She shot him a desperate look and shouted, “Aren’t you going to help?”

“Do you need help?” he asked, still wavering about what to do.

Leaving her behind was probably best for him in the short term. Unfortunately, if she died, he had no way of judging the unintended consequences. It might just get chalked up to an adventurer running into something she couldn’t handle. On the other hand, he had no idea if anyone knew her intentions. If she’d told someone that she’d planned to go looking for him, it could mean an endless parade of people bothering him. Hell, he might even get blamed for the whole thing, which wouldn’t be entirely false.

He had engineered this situation by stopping where he did. He’d sensed the beast nearby in the forest. Something that was new since his battle with the dire wolves. He wasn’t sure if it was a byproduct of absorbing all those cores or if some kind of sixth sense was coming into its own. He’d have to ask other-Terry about it at some point. He’d just been too busy running away to get around to it. Kelima’s sharp answer snapped him out of his musings.

“Of course, I need help! You ass!”

Terry could feel the reluctant hero trope just waiting to pounce on him if he decided to help. He just couldn’t see a good way around it if he wasn’t prepared to let the stupid girl die. And, he wasn’t prepared to do that. Inconvenience her. Sure. Aggravate her. At every opportunity. Leave her to die. No. He recalled that Rule Number Two was that human life was intrinsically worthless in this hellscape of might makes right, but he’d made that rule when he’d been much weaker. He supposed that there was some truth to the idea that benevolence and pity were the privileges of the strong. He was likely strong enough now that he could afford the luxury of occasional benevolence, however grudging it might be.

Shaking his head at what he assumed was going to be a decision that caused him endless ass pain, he looked around on the ground nearby. He took a few steps, bent down, and picked up a rock that was a little smaller than a baseball. He hefted it a few times and decided it was good enough.

“What are you doing?!” shouted Kelima.

Terry took a few more steps to one side to make sure the noble wasn’t in the line of fire.

“I’m helping,” said Terry.

He drew back his arm and threw the rock. The rock passed through the monster’s neck in an explosion of flesh and blood that Kelima did not escape. The attack all but decapitated the winged ape, which thrashed around briefly as its ability to breathe normally and all the blood flow to its brain abruptly stopped. It took a few, last, staggering steps before it collapsed to the ground with a thud that Terry could feel in his feet. He turned his attention to the girl. Her face was now as red as the hand over her wound. Even Terry’s strong stomach turned a little when a sizeable piece of ape that had been clinging to the girl’s cheek slipped free and landed on the road below with a wet plop.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Kelima.

“Quit complaining,” said Terry. “You nobles. I swear. You said you needed help. So, I helped.”

The girl looked like she wanted to say something but then another bit of ape throat dropped off her shirt. It seemed that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The girl took a few hurried steps to the side of the road, leaned over, and emptied the contents of her stomach. Terry watched it all with clinical detachment and then decided to be “helpful” again.

“You’re never going to make it as an adventurer if you let every little thing get to you,” he called out to her.