They were yet an hour away from the goblin village when Damon started flagging. The strength boost having unexpectedly run its course after about 10 minutes, despite how he'd still been picking up more momentum at the time. It seemed the boost's requirements were based on something more if you wanted to keep it going longer, but figuring it out on the fly was above him in Damon's current state.

Regrettably, they'd been all out of dynamite for the past hour, or any lucky breaks or environmental advantages—other than the occasional speed boost from Berry—but the bat swarm was clearly struggling too. They're done. If we can make it an hour more, just one more.

But Damon had asked for just one more burst of Mana, one too many times. His body wasn't responding any longer, no matter how he urged it on while willingly embracing the pain in order to not slow down; effort no longer mattered. His every muscle was out of juice, causing him run like a zombie.

Ten more minutes passed, and somehow they remained alive.

The swarm thinking they were playing possum seemed the likeliest explanation for why they hadn't been ripped into bits yet, until he giddily heard Berry squeal and saw she'd started digging through her main food pouch. "Tribute!"

She ran and leapt off of Damon's shoulder, skipping through the grass and tossing bird seed all over, shouting the word 'Tribute' over and over again.

Damon first figured she'd finally suffered a full mental break, but then he spotted the same thing Berry had, far up above. It was the local flock of firehawks, and they were hovering threateningly, just a bit above the seething swarm of bats which had clearly encroached on their territory. Which was probably the majority of why they seemed to be coming to the humanoid's defense, but Berry still kept gleefully sowing her customary tribute.

The pair of them slowed, the glowing bark going to ground while they were finally allowed to catch their breath, the rest of their bodies having gone deathly still as every cell tried to settle down at the same time.

What they witnessed next was quite the interesting stand-off, because the two animal flocks clearly tried to get each other’s measure, the firehawks attempting to demand some respect despite their lesser numbers, and the bats remaining entirely unwilling to let go of their thieving prey. Few in numbers or not, the firehawks certainly had the means to take revenge, should the bats force their way in and then retreat back to their flammable forest.

On the other hand, it wasn’t like the firehawks were willing to go to war over some tribals, although they seemed equally unwilling to see their territory violated so carelessly.

It was the most tense of stand-offs, both Damon and Berry sensing their lives hanging in the balance—right until a whale-like keening could be heard calling, far above.

Every flier in the air instinctively shied away when the huge Rex bat plummeted down from the clouds, slowing to a hover above its lesser mates and turning bright and nightmarish eyes on the firehawks, and then the two humanoids in turn. Its yellow orbs flashed and widened significantly at the sight of Damon, likely signaling a great intent to harm him upon hearing the chirping explanations from the wounded bat swarm. They'd hardly be chirping anything flattering after having been led astray so far from home, suffering such losses, and for such humiliating reasons. Namely having lost a majority of the medicinal treasures growing in their land which they were supposedly set to guard, but by now the many brethren lost along the way likely weighed far heavier on the scales of retribution.

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Damon and Blåberry both tensed to start running, and even the firehawks seemed to blanch and want to move away from the giant creature, but then the realization struck home that they were at its mercy already; taking off would be no use. A terrible screech of sufficient volume would strike them all down from the sky; yet with death already looming they had enough pride to only freeze up and face the music rather than panic, what with having already chosen to stand up for their hereditary borders. Not that the firehawk flock was actually capable of standing their ground, if the huge beast actually charged or displayed any further signs of aggression besides looming, but for now the birds simply waited to see what would happen.

The hovering terror was truly terrifying. Clearly too large to fly naturally, with a wingspan that stretched the breadth of its long, predatory-looking and strangely humanoid body—legs and wings extending far further than on its lower-leveled counterparts, while the wings moved in a strange weaving pattern. Is that why they’re called? Oh, right. Damon’s slow witted brain finally thought to throw an [Identify] over the Rex’ way.

[Bloodhide Weaver Rex - level ???]

Yeah, crap. That sounds a lot more dangerous than the turtle.

The creature appeared to somehow sense the move, then clearly retaliated causing it to suddenly shy away, reacting more strongly than to anything it'd seen or heard from its minions previously.

[?????? ???????? - level 37]

The giant beast screeched at the swarm of minions—silencing them completely—then it clearly indicated Damon and made a high-pitched, acute noise. It was pointing with one of its wings, proving the flapping was mostly for show and could be replaced with some extra magical effort. Then the flock suddenly gave one last, dismayed screech and turned away from the hunt, begrudgingly flying off and slowly going to ground on the other side of a nearby hill.

The Rex also turned around, then rose up into the sky, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes any longer as it flew off.

That only left a bunch of firehawks, and a disbelieving Damon and Blåberry remaining sitting on the ground. Is that really it? After all that, they’re actually giving up? You know what. Screw the reason, I’ll take it.

They numbly watched their stalkers finally leave off, then the two of them turned towards the goblin village, finally free to go at their own pace, which was zero. Damon was going nowhere for now, until they’d rested long enough that he could at least limp without having to push through crippling agony.

There was still quite a ways to go until they reached the village, but first Damon looked to Blåberry, who was smiling at him innocently from 4 inches away.

He couldn't even be bothered to glare. Instead silently turning to look at the System scroll he’d accepted earlier.

… What the actual fuck.