Mavari’s [Hunting] skill performed exactly as she had said.

It led us to a copse, situated within the valley. We slowed as we approached the alpha’s lair, wary of ambushes. But, nothing of the sort materialized. Sometime during my grinding, I had obliterated the entire group.

Mavari’s pupils returned to their usual brown color. “Steady, Damien. I think something is off.”

I glanced at her from my spot behind the bushes. “What do you mean?”

“There’s blood in the air, probably from a recent fight. I can’t imagine another reason why the Alpha Dread Tiger hasn’t made an appearance.”

“You think a second monster beat us to the chase?”

“I do not know,” Mavari said, and at this, she bit her lip. “But, I suggest we abandon the chase. You’re not strong enough to deal with unforeseen circumstances, especially where alpha monsters are concerned.”

I mulled over her warning. “Mavari, I have about three hours left . . .”

“We’ll find somewhere else—”

“You’re not sure of that.”

“I promise—”

“I don’t want to die!”

Mavari stiffened. “Heralds, Damien. Every bone in my body is screaming for retreat . . . But, you are right. You need a solid kill. Continuing like this isn’t going to cut it.” She flashed me a look. “Just be sure to follow my instructions. If we are dealing with more than one strong monster, I wouldn’t be able to protect you.”

I nodded with a gulp.

Mavari held my gaze a moment longer, then crept toward the copse. I followed at a sedate pace, surprised at how easy it had become to muffle my footsteps.

We broke through the first line of trees. Mavari trod carefully, keeping an arrow at the ready. The shrubs barely rustled in her passing, but then she emitted a small gasp and surged deeper into the bushes.

A macabre sight awaited us.

The Alpha Dread Tiger had been a nursing mother, or so the scene inferred. The smallish heads of four Dread Tiger cubs hung nailed to trunks of deridum. Their mother was nowhere to be found, but the upturned earth provided a clue about her fate.

Mavari wandered dazedly into the scene and ran her fingers across a cut on a tree trunk.

“Goblins,” she hissed.

Goblins, of course. Whenever elves appeared in a high fantasy setting, the little buggers weren’t too far behind.

I glanced around the trees, feeling the hairs rise on the back of my neck. “You don’t think they are still in the area, do you?”

Mavari activated her skill. “No. These cuts are fresh, but I can’t sense the presence of any other creature. A large fight occurred here, mere hours before our arrival. I’d wager it ended with the capture of the Alpha Dread Tiger.”

“But what about the rest of the ambush?” I wondered. “How did the goblins get past without their notice?”

Mavari frowned. “Damien . . . I’m sorry, but I need to leave. The goblins haven’t left their mountain in decades. If they are back to being active, then the villagers need to be warned as soon as possible.”

My heart pounded at the implication. “That’s the same as sentencing me to death.”

Mavari had the decency to flush. “I’m sorry. But, between you and my people . . .” She shook her head. “You can keep doing what needs to be done. I’ll come find you the moment I locate my kindred. I promise.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Her words rang hollow in my ears.

Mavari turned away in a dead sprint out of the copse. I glanced one final time at her receding profile.

It saved my life.

Crossbow bolts flew out of the bushes, whistling with the promise of death. They scored glancing hits on my arm and thigh even as I ducked to safety.

“Mavari!”

The elf-woman thrummed her bowstring. A gust of wind, filled with the sounds of laughter, swept me out of harm's way. She bounded off a tree and reached for her quiver. Two arrows left her bow in rapid succession, aimed in the direction of the attack.

The air shivered for a second as her arrows streaked past, and then the illusion fell, revealing three Dread Tigers that had erstwhile been camouflaged.

The Dread Tigers looked no different from normal, save for the presence of tribal markings and skulls on their heads. Each one bore a harness and a single rider: short, green-skinned creatures with long noses and sharpened teeth. Even without the information from [Identify], I recognized their ilk.

Goblin Scout LVL 14.

Oh, crap. I really had to be a bottom feeder if mere goblins were stronger than me.

The goblins exploded into action, baring jagged swords and primitive crossbows. Their leather armors consisted only of jerkins and loincloths, but their nimble movements ensured they dodged Mavari’s arrows.

A fourth goblin stood apart from the rest, moving on foot. The skulls of small creatures adorned its jerkin, complete with a belt made of bones. It waved a weathered staff that thrummed with energy and barked at the riders.

Tribal Goblin Sorcerer LVL 17.

Mavari took one look at the unmounted creature and paled. “Damien, run.”

“I c-can h-help you—”

“Just run, Damien!”

The goblin scouts advanced. Mavari pelted them with arrows, propelled by sudden wind. Only a couple of those arrows hit their mark, courtesy of the spry Dread Tigers, but the maneuver left the Goblin Sorcerer undefended.

He took one hit to the flank before vanishing in a flurry of leaves. Sunlight gleamed in our eyes. Another illusion!

The disembodied sorcerer barked a command at his minions who proceeded to take advantage of our momentary blindness. They converged on Mavari who in turn leaped up to defend me.

The fur on the Dread Tigers’ front legs stood on end. My instincts screamed in warning. I dived for cover just as the fur exploded, peppering the air with razors.

“They’re doing the spider thing!” I said.

Mavari didn’t flinch. Two wind-borne arrows pierced the air and scattered the needles. A third arrow bounced off a goblin’s eye and threw him onto the ground. His mount continued in a circle, coming for me.

Tamed Dread Tiger LVL 10.

The unmanned Dread Tiger lunged with extended claws, intent on ripping me to shreds. I responded by throwing a bunch of monster cores in its path. The Dread Tiger sprang aside to avoid the light show but took Mavari's arrow in its throat. She repeated fire until its health dwindled, putting it down for good.

The fallen rider screamed with one hand clasped around his eye. “That’s my Drendren, you stinking, evil bitch!”

The bowshot had left him with a sliver of health, and he ran for the bushes before Mavari could finish the job. He dropped his crossbow in favor of a horn slung around his shoulder.

“No—” I began.

The horn resounded, loud and fell, forcing a shiver to run up my spine.

A goblin rider galloped past and swung at Mavari with a length of chain. His fellow sallied down the opposite flank, firing his crossbow.

I tried to intercept them but ran into a wall of sunlight. It dissipated as quickly as it appeared, leaving me with the image of a wounded Mavari falling to her knees.

A nearby horn answered the goblins. It echoed around the copse, accompanied by a series of roars. My sensitive hearing gauged that the noises came from less than a kilometer away.

The goblin riders cheered at the development. Sunlight again blocked my sight.

Mavari snarled. “I’ve just about had it with that sorcerer.” She nocked an arrow and smiled at me—a respectable feat, considering that she knelt still in pain. “You need to run, Damien. I'll follow after I’m done with this.”

“I'm not leaving you to die.”

Mavari sighed. “Your words do nothing but shame me, because when the shoe was on the other foot, I abandoned you to your fate. Forgive me, Damien, but I refuse your offer. Do not waste your kindness on the undeserving.”

“Stop talking like that.”

“Listen,” Mavari said, rising to her feet. “One of us needs to survive this and return to Harkonean. You won’t last three seconds against what is coming. I’ll secure your escape.”

I tried to debate this, but the words died in my throat. The horn blower kept transmitting our position to the incoming storm of reinforcements. Just yesterday, I worked part-time in a warehouse. This wasn’t my turf.

The two goblin riders returned for a second pass. Mavari fired at the one with the chain, missing by an inch.

The goblin jeered. “What was that, sow elf? Got the sun in your eye?”

Mavari whispered, “[Whirlwind].”

A twister swept through the battlefield and carted me into the air. I tumbled through grasping branches and landed in a thicket.

The last thing I saw while airborne was Mavari’s receding form shooting at the revealed Goblin Sorcerer.

The rider with the chain swung his weapon.