Breaking camp and setting off, the lack of activity was not to last, as the vanguard scouts came back to report that a large Beastman horde had broken into one of the small forts along the road and was currently fighting the beleaguered garrison. Ordering a double-time at the news, Estaria’s column took flight. Most men had recovered from their lack of self-control in Middenhiem, but not really from the loss of morale caused by the dead priest and goading of the Northerners. Still, any man would run to the aid of another when the Beastmen were involved. The battle was going poorly for the fort, but that meant it was going to go well for the sudden reinforcements, as they crashed through the gate and took up positions there, a sudden fanged wall to their backs, and handguns besides. Estaria then rose her sword and let out a deep bellow to be heard by every man.

“For The Empire!”

Not only a shout for their morale but also the activation of her trait as a Captain, the men roared in return, the garrison of the fort pushing with renewed vigour, crushing Beastman between two flanks. Savagery and thick hides did not save them from the blades of the swordsmen, but it did allow them to exact a toll before finally being taken down. Finally, the last creature was brought low by Estaria’s men, and the battle calmed. All was not over yet, however, because a deep, gullettal roar filled the air, and from the forest undergrowth burst a Minotaur and it’s Bovigor followers. Borrago reacted sharply, his miniature cannon blowing off the Minotaurs kneecap and causing it to stumble and crash into the ground. Estaria took a pair of Bovigors, but the rest smashed into her line, tossing men and buckling armour with feral rage and great horns. Estaria sprinted into the thick of it with her disturbing grace, and her blade sung against Beastmen too feral, and thus considered Monsters. Her high strength and high-quality sword allowed her to do great damage to the beasts, but she was still on her toes for any shield work that needed doing.

It was hard fought, considering there were less than a dozen, but eventually the last creature bled it’s last into the ground. The crippled Minotaur didn’t get its desire, and amidst a roar of defiance, it was torn apart by a volley from the Handgunners. Which was good, that thing was huge. With it dead, She got a box about how the “Captain’s Halflings” gathered the loot and sold them for 15,000. Which kind of made sense, not a lot of loot to be had from Beastmen. Unless you counted dirty fur and ancient weapons.

“These lot would be if anyone tried to escape, I’m guessing” She commented, before looking around the bodies. She had educated herself on the enemies of the Empire, so best to work her ability to kill them. “Did you find the Bestigor?” she asked the man who looked to be in charge. He gave a blank stare for a few moments, still shell-shocked and feeling like he had stared death in the face only to be pulled back a few seconds before the teeth snapped.

“Big thing. Large horns. Probably armoured” she expanded. It seemed to snap the man to the present because he shook his head. “So it’s still out there. You need to send a runner to replace your losses. I don’t expect them to give up on this place” she told him. He didn’t even question her, a sign that either he had gotten command because the true commander had lost his head, or that he was seriously stunned from the fight. Looking about, she could see the rest of the men. Now the fight was over, a dark cloud loomed over them. Desertions followed this kind of morale, so she let out a sigh and went to find the Quartermaster.

“Magic trick for you. Everyone out there is basically dead out there, morale-wise” She told the Quartermaster, who shook his head.

“It’s Drakwald. Nobody is happy to be here” he replied a gruff growl to his voice. However, his jaw dropped when he saw Estaria pull a barrel out of nowhere.

“Let’s try help out, hmm?” The barrel had ‘Bugman’s XXXXXX’ on it, and she could see the Quartermaster’s eyes glisten with admiration and desire.

“Where…?!” He was cut off by Estaria holding up a finger.

“I didn’t. You did. Rainy day, you know?” She gave him a knowing nod, and then went out. Basic camp had been broken, and wounded were being tended to while the dead were being prepared to burn. Apparently, people were not buried in Drakwald, the lot of them a superstitious bunch. Too drained emotionally and physically to even ask where all the equipment that Estaria’s invisible Halflings took had gone.

“Alright! Quartermaster is putting on a show. But we gotta earn it because it’s quite the show. We are going to need a barricade at the broken gate till it can get fixed” She told her men. There were grumbles, but the idea of getting invited to the show that was being put on was enough for them to gather boxes, scrap, and stakes to make a temporary barricade against anything that tried to come in. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it would give them some time.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Alright lads!” came the shout of the Quartermaster. “It’s been a hell of a day and gonna be a hell of a night! That’s why I brought this out. Any man who volunteers for sentry duty gets double helping. Just take care! It’s a strong drink, and we don’t need a bunch of lifeless dullards” He put the Bugman’s barrel in front of him, and word quickly spread across the fort. Sentry duty was well filled that night, and Estaria got a cup of what was considered liquid gold by many. Taking a swig, she could really get behind its reputation. Smooth, but with a strong taste and not with the acrid burn that strong alcohol usually had. She was tempted just to spend all her gold on barrels of this and open a tavern. Dungeons to keep her in supply, and a happy town.

Still, that went the same way as her idea to retire in Bretonnia. So after finishing off the cup and getting dinner - Borrago cooked his Minotaur Steak marinated in Bugman’s as well as other dishes - she looked at the key to a C-rank dungeon. Time to explore!

Are you-

She didn’t even bother reading the whole of it before hitting the yes button and getting transported into the dungeon. Campfires ahead of her, she brought up something she rarely used. This system did have a minimap, but most of the time it was easier to talk to someone than try to translate it. The map gave her a great sense of scale. The camp ahead was self-contained, but was on the wings of a larger camp, with a second satellite camp on the other wing of the large camp. Like the way a larger war host would break camp. She knew these creatures could make a loud noise, but a firearm was louder, and out of place, so she wasn’t going to use one of them. Plus, these places did respawn as long as the boss was still around.

Walking up, she saw the enemy were light orange, more like yellow. Maybe a level ahead of her, they would require a fair amount of time for her to get advantageous reaping from. So, B-rank it was for farming. Kicking off with her incredible speed, she slammed into the back of one of the Ungor. Bigger and stronger than the Brays, they were still pretty human in their size and durability. So her blade slipped in and stole his life. The shock of her sudden, swift arrival allowed her to cut down three of them before they reacted to her presence. Each slash killed another creature, the skin freezing from the runes that adorned her blade. As she cut through the Ungor like chaff, she felt like a God descending to the earth to smite the unfaithful. It was a foolish thought to have since these creatures were a match for the regular footman but could hardly hold up to veterans, Knights and Greatswordsmen. But it was not something she could really hold off. Turning the camp to a bloodbath, she flicked off her sword and took off, circumventing the large camp and arriving at the second small one. There she delivered bloody vengeance on their existence, before walking into the main camp. Sparsely populated, this was the commander’s camp, as she saw not Ungor but Gor. Large things, as much beast as man and thick hides. All a standard orange, which made the blood-soaked Estaria grin.

The Ungor had not been a challenge enough to do more than a small chunk of damage to her luck bar, and the blood that covered her was scented as their own, leaving the Gor wary. And then, out of the far tent, came a large creature with magnificent horns. It spoke, but in a harsh language Estaria had no understanding of - although a box did pop up with a progression bar of comprehension, which was a system she was totally ignorant of, plus an option to spend XP to speed up the progress - but with the new box she had, she felt it would be, at very least fun to talk back, at most a tactical advantage to understand the enemy. And so she spent the xp and suddenly, it’s words made sense.

“--Of Gnak Bonechewer! We will grind man-thing into the ground, make you part of Gnak. Make you strong like Gnak!” the bellow was strange to understand but even stronger to reply.

“I dunno. I don’t think I’d like to be part of you. I like having a bath, ya know?” She grinned as Gnak just stood there, shocked that Estaria had responded.

“...We will kill talking man-thing!” Gnak most elegantly shouted. Growling and braying filled the camp but Estaria shouted before they charged. It was a gamble on what she was going to do, but with the Brays having no horns, the Ungor having stubby horns, and the Bestigors having rather magnificent horns, she thought that horns were rather important in their culture.

“Fake-Horned Cretin! Can you not face me yourself?!” she retorted. Stunned into silence, the roar of outrage from Gnak was thrice as loud.

“Will kill! Will eat! Man-Thing is Gnaks!!” right on the money. Horns were a touchy subject. It rushed at her and Estaria first thought to slow his charge with a swing, but the creature was enraged and would probably charge through it, so she threw herself to the side, letting him charge wide before using her speed to blitz past him, taking a piece out of his luck bar, before spinning and taking the second piece. His frenzied rage couldn’t hold a candle to the Dexterity that Estaria possessed, and every attack was deflected and parried, answered with a lightning-fast riposte. It was not long before she gave him a critical wound and then ended him spectacularly with a called shot to the head, decapitating him in a mighty blow. So this was her powers. A woman could get addicted to this kind of skill.

Boss defeated. Exit dungeon?

Estaria, hit no. Wanting to exploit this power a bit more. The Gors stared at their fallen Bestigor but didn’t get enough time to register it properly before the controlled devastation of Estaria was upon them. It didn’t last long.

Total Obliteration. 5000+2000 gold. Bestigor Blood earned. Exiting in 10 seconds.

Once arriving back in the world, she checked her fatigue. Seeing it around 31%, she decided to just catch some sleep. Extensive murder was rather exhausting. And she’d rather not ruin the taste and memory of Bugman’s with Bestigor blood. That certainly did not sound appetizing at all.