"Was it the right call to split our forces?" The Beastfolk shouted across the winds, to which the Goblin rolled his eyes.

"Stop it, Fang. I sent her away because she was annoying. Now you question me too?"

They flew a hundred feet below the clouds. As the topography changed, the ground kept creeping closer to their formation.

The wyverns they used were massive, spiked creatures. They were fearsome monsters with razor-sharp teeth, spreading venom with every bite. Even their blood was acidic.

Still, their pale green, almost white scales suggested this was the first time they'd seen the sun.

The Beastman, Goblin, and Ogre riding the three monsters weren't better off. They also spent their last decade in the darkness of a dungeon, but this ended two days ago.

"We've been flying for two days straight, I no longer have patience for this bullshit, Fang."

The Goblin looked so small on the back of the enormous beast, yet he was the loudest in the group.

"I'm the Captain of the Twelve, I make the calls since the Demon Lord trusts me. Deal with it."

"I was only asking." The silver-maned Beastman raised his hands, not looking for trouble.

"I understand you wanted to get Omerta out of the way, but why give her most of our forces?"

"What did the report say? Three humans on horseback. We have Wyverns. What else do you need?"

"Do you think we can trust those reports?" Fang shook his head.

He had a point; Dioneras knew it, too. He didn't trust them either, nor did he trust Omerta.

It wasn't a difficult question. They could still turn around if they spotted an army near the Cyreneian pass. Reunite their forces, and attack when they had the advantage.

But if the report was right and only three humans appeared things got complicated.

Omerta was too ambitious and had her connections with the Thirteenth Battalion.

Even if they fought the First — another traitor Banner, The Demon Lord named them traitors.

The reports from the battle near the Old Capital were messy. Since they were all sealed beyond the Gates of Hell, they couldn't tell for certain, what happened.

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

Sure, Omerta became a Champion, but even if the Lord trusted her, Dioneras didn't have to. And if he didn't trust someone with his life, he always assumed the worst.

"Let's say the reports were good." He turned to explain. "If we go in with force, they might spot us."

"If they don't, they don't stand a chance. But Omerta and her fans could surprise us from behind during the attack. Take us out, then claim the glory for themselves."

Fang opened his mouth, but swallowed his words, scratching his silver mane instead.

He took some time to gather his thoughts before asking another question.

"What stops her from doing the same now that we're split?"

"I sent her near the Old Capital to scout the area for remnants of the Thirteenth Battalion." Dioneras shrugged, before elaborating further.

"If we can trust her, she'll have no issue apprehending her old comrades. If she doesn't, who cares? In case she shows up on the horizon behind us, we know she betrayed us."

"That's... One way to look at it." The Beastmen nodded, giving up on the argument. They approached the pass, and the clouds almost touched the mountains below them.

His sharp eyes picked up a group on the trail underneath, and he pointed them out to his Captain.

"Could it be them?" It seemed like three creatures on horseback, but from this far even he couldn't tell more about it.

"Nice catch, Wolfman." Dioneras nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Go above the clouds and stay there until we pass them. It will be easier to catch them if they can't see us."

***

The Princess wouldn't stop whining.

"Why couldn't we take a carriage?" She complained, and it was Lambert's turn to calm her down.

It was always Lambert's turn, as the Paladin would use her enormous falchion to shut her up, and that wouldn't do.

"Your Highness must be aware, that a carriage couldn't traverse this path." He tried to reason with her for the umpteenth time, even if he knew it was useless.

"Even the horses struggle with it."

"Ah, but my royal bottom hurts from all the riding." She kept on whining as if anyone cared about her butt.

They only called her the Princess for a reason. Elizabeth, the youngest Bride and fourth daughter of the Duke of Nordhaben had the powers of a Seer. And the arrogance to go with it.

She was her father's favorite, overtaking her older sisters in the line of succession. The duke sheltered her within the Inquisition's headquarters in Sanctuary.

To think that the Elder would send her out with them on this quest. This whole mission was nonsense. Reckless. Suicidal. What were they expecting?

Send out a Court Wizard with unfinished training to banish the Thirteenh Bride? A literal deity?

Someone who made the Old Capital with its millions of inhabitants disappear in the blink of an eye?

Someone who cracked the age-old mystery of teleportation magic and could be anywhere?

And the one who had to lead them to her was the Princess. Someone you couldn't reason with, who had no common sense, or survival instinct.

And Cath was to defend them both if something happened.

Cath, of all people. Who only cared about her holy mission and the paladin's honor. And to find a reason to swing her massive falchion around.

If they had to fight, they were already long lost.

There had to be a reason why the First Bride sent them on this nonsense mission, and it wasn't to reach success.

It was to get rid of them.

"Ah, why couldn't we take Griffins or Gargoyles?" She asked, looking up to the sky with a painful expression. "See, those three would be perfect."

Lambert felt his blood run out of his face as he followed the Princess' gaze. His eyes went wide with the realization.

"Y-your Highness... Those are not Griffins..."