“Hey! Why can’t we deal with three people?! Why is everyone—”

An explosion and the loud sound of grinding steel, followed by a blood-curdling scream, was enough to discourage the leader of the raider camp from barking orders. Soon, more of his fellow raiders deserted him, until only those loyal to him were left.

“This is a nightmare,” declared one of the bandits. “Are they the same ones?”

“Yep,” said another, rather unconcerned. “The ones I have been warning you about for the past three months. Ever wondered why we have less and less rivals? You got your answers.”

The desert haze did not disguise the trio of hunters who had been on a warpath against the raiders and bandits who had a price on their heads. This latest group was aware of their notoriety, and they used it as their fear tactic, not realizing that it ended up causing them to be targeted by arguably the best bounty hunting team that came to prominence after they managed to defeat and destroy the Church of Nihilo, a dangerous cult that even the raiders were afraid to cross due to their penchant for destruction.

Even worse, once the three approached the remaining raiders, it was evident that they were not even remotely injured in the slightest. The Fa’ar seemed to be at first until they realized that he was caked in the blood of his enemies, clearly due to the circular saw weapon he installed on top of a stick. Somehow, they never even heard of a bounty hunter wielding such a weapon. Only one of the raiders, the unconcerned one, knew the reason.

“Why is it always the Fa’ars who end up causing the most trouble?” he complained.

Meanwhile, the trio was more absorbed with their own argument. Raine, specifically, was unable to accept Narati’s weapon and was as unnerved as his targets whenever the Fa’ar used it. The weapon, lighter than it looked, made it even more terrifying.

“Shouldn’t you invest in putting a goddamn noise dampener instead of traumatizing your friends every time that thing’s on?!” argued Raine. “I don’t know how I can keep up with you for so long!”

“You’re the one who thinks it’s an effective tactic,” retorted Narati. “Where are your earplugs?”

“It doesn’t change anything! And keep that thing away from my face!”

Narati realized that, as they talked, the tip of the sawblade was precariously close to Raine despite it being off. The blood and gore that covered the chainsaw did not make it easier for his friends. In fact, Karkas, a Croc who should’ve been very used to seeing flesh bitten off by his strong jaws and sharp teeth, made it clear that Narati should stick with explosives instead of an unusual and traumatizing weapon. But he couldn’t change Narati’s mind, not when the Fa’ar needed something to defend himself. He hastily put away his weapon.

As the two continued bickering about Narati’s choice of weapon, the raiders, who were not even taken seriously enough, became irritated, especially the short-tempered leader. It was made even worse by the fact that the only one who seemed serious enough, Karkas, only sighed and readied his staff, looking calm and unconcerned.

“I had enough of your insulting attitude!” exclaimed the raider, who angrily cast a spell on his hands. It was a fireball spell that slowly became brighter and brighter, but also denser until it became a dense ball. The amount of mana, and the density of the fireball, caused Karkas to become serious and put his staff in a defensive position. Raine, too, noticed this when Narati pointed it out.

“Damn! That’s one dense-ass fireball he got there!” exclaimed Raine. “Okay, Kar, you ready?”

“Don’t bat that thing back at him,” said Karkas. “They need to see a body, not ashes.”

“Batting a spell that dense? It will be quite a story for my master if I can do—”

The angry shout from the leader snapped Raine back to the situation at hand. The fireball came at them with incredible speed to the point where Karkas could barely cast a barrier to slow it down. Even then, it penetrated the barrier, but the spell’s strength was considerably reduced enough for Raine to be more confident with his counter spell.

Coating his sword with counter spell, Raine assumed a batting stance as the fireball came at him. He hit the fireball, feeling the weight despite of it being pure magic. He then proceeded to bat the fireball away from the group. It soon dissipated as it went further and further away.

“Now that’s what I call a home run,” boasted the cat-eared man. He soon returned his attention to the rest of the raiders, who looked at him in disbelief. “As for you lot…your luck just ran out.”

Without warning, Raine dashed towards the closest of the remaining raiders and mercilessly cut through him after parrying his attempt to defend himself, followed by stabbing another right beside him. He danced through the stunned group of raiders, making him almost unstoppable. Whenever they became aware of what happened and tried to attack him, Karkas would support him by disarming the person. Raine, with his well-trained self-control, did not slaughter the raiders, merely knocking them out with the butt of his sword for Karkas to bind.

Soon, he reached the leader. Unlike the others, he was enraged at Raine instead of stunned that his magic did not work. He was the source of Raine’s problem when he dashed towards the man as he rained destruction upon the camp. Karkas’s barrier managed to protect Raine until he reached the leader, who maintained that Raine was only fortunate, only to be proven wrong when his magic was repeatedly countered until he, losing his temper, pulled out his sword and tried to fight Raine. It was the wrong choice. Raine simply dodged and grabbed his hand, throwing the leader with his own weight. Soon, Karkas finished the job by binding the leader, who by now was unable to believe that he was defeated.

Yet, he was not the real danger. While Raine danced his way around the attackers, Narati’s attention was fixated towards one of the raiders. He was a bespectacled human who was acting too calmly while his comrades were being slaughtered or incapacitated. Rather than fighting, he watched Raine as he countered the leader’s spell and threw him.

Sensing something wrong, Narati ran towards Raine through the camp. Sure enough, the man threw away his glasses and was soon engulfed in dark fog. What came out of the fog was something monstrous. It was nothing like any beast both Raine and Raine ever knew. With antlers like a deer, but with the skull of a skinned predator, it stood at around 7 feet tall. Its unnatural, elongated fingers were tipped with claws that could rend flesh like a sharp knife. His lanky body also reinforced his monstrous appearance, which again, did not resemble any beast races.

The transformation was only noticed by Narati, who quickly threw a flash grenade right in front of the monster after overcoming the initial shock. The flash, laced with magic, made the monster screech as it was momentarily blinded. That, however, did not stop the monster long enough. Thankfully, Raine noticed the monster and managed to dodge its attack, albeit barely. A shallow cut on his arm showed that it was not going to be as easy as their target.

“And here I thought this is going far too smoothly,” commented Raine. “Why does the surprise always come when we’re just finishing up?”

Narati positioned himself beside Raine and said, “He was human before. What magic is this?”

“It’s more a curse than magic,” explained Raine. “I read about a skull-headed monster with antlers. I think it’s called a…wendigo or something. But I thought they’re malicious forest spirit, not…something out of Aether like this freak of nature!”

“That’s rude.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to compliment everything, including a skull-headed bastard that’s baring its claws and going to slice us into pieces?!”

Raine’s statement was also a warning, as the wendigo’s attack would decapitate Narati if it wasn’t for his human friend forcing Narati to duck. Given that wendigo was the result of a transformation, there was nothing that could be countered. Luckily, once Narati recovered, he turned on his weapon and swing the saw, slicing the wendigo’s arm and causing it to screech in pain. Once again, Narati’s loud weapon served as a reminder that his weapon was far more terrifying than a monster, especially since the monster’s screech was drowned by the loud screeching noise from Narati’s weapon.

Unfortunately, the monster interpreted this as a challenge and mindlessly attacked both Narati and Raine, who could only dodge. Karkas’s binding magic couldn’t keep up and was even broken since the wendigo was born out of Aether, eroding his magic as they touched its fur. Despite those setbacks, it did not affect enchantments, so both Narati and Raine, whose weapons were enchanted, did not seemed affected by it.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Knowing that they were no longer fighting a humanoid race, but a humanoid monster, the Fa’ar and the human turned serious and started relentlessly attacking the wendigo, whose attack proved dangerous enough for them to keep out of its claws while confusing it. Narati’s makeshift grenades, combined with Raine’s training, could overwhelm the wendigo with a barrage of grenades and attacks that caused the initial surprise from a monster seemed absurd in hindsight. Karkas could only watch as he secured their target, who was also in disbelief by the sudden turn of events and by how the bounty hunters managed to overwhelm a monster that struck fear to everyone watching.

Or rather, it was the sound of grinding steel that proved to be scarier.

Narati was relentless and unforgiving when it came to fights, which showed when he managed to land an attack on the wendigo. The wendigo tried to defend itself but found that the blade started to saw through its arm. Before long, it lost another arm, and soon, its life, as the sawblade weapon cut through its protruding bones and into its black, exposed heart. It was terrifying to see a monster with an exposed chest and a black beating heart.

For someone who didn't care, though, that was a weakness to be exploited.

The wendigo did not die immediately, so Narati shoved a grenade in the chest cavity and moved away. The resulting explosion finally killed the wendigo. Narati was going to ensure that it was dead by cutting its head, but Raine stopped him.

“Hey, bud, calm down. It’s like you have a personal beef with it or something,” said Raine. “That thing’s dead. You blew up its chest.”

Narati looked at the motionless wendigo. After pondering about it, he turned off his weapon and said, “I suppose.”

“Save your strength in case we got any more surprises.” Raine then sighed in relief. “I’m glad it’s over.”

Narati sighed, too, before he started checking the camp for anything useful to take. His human friend simply shook his head as he approached Karkas, who was already hoisting the leader on his shoulder. Narati soon joined them, fresh with all the junks and treasures that could be sold to the pawn shop in the settlement where they planned to exchange the wanted men with bounties.

The camp was left alone and abandoned, both for nature to claim or for anyone else who thought it would be a great idea to resettle with a dead wendigo that was brutally killed. Only those who were desperate, or those who escaped the society that shunned them, would think it a great place to lie low.

Whatever reason they had, it better not be a morally complicated one.

***

“Well, that went well,” said Raine. “Despite of the wendigo crashing the party, and despite your saw-on-a-stick, I think we got enough to afford a startup farm.”

“It’s not a ‘saw-on-a-stick’, Raine,” said Narati. “It’s a glaive.”

“Eh…not buying it. No one’s going to say ‘put a heavy machine used to cut wooden beams on a stick’ as a glaive. If that’s a chainsaw and twice your height, however, it might be convincing. It’s more like a battle axe to me. Anyway…you sure cleaned that thing up well.”

It was only an hour after they turned in to the raiders and accepted the reward. With all the gore and viscera that the sawblade was subjected to, along with its user, it would make sense to clean them over a couple hours, or maybe a whole day. Instead, when Raine came out of the settlement’s police station, he found Narati had already cleaned his fur and had a change of clothes. Not only that, but the blood-caked weapon also looked like new. He always dismissed it as Karkas helping him clean his fur with his magic as Raine assumed it was hard to clean fur that’s covered in blood in such a short time.

It didn’t help the fact that, despite having an income they could spare, Narati still wore nothing more than a vest, a loincloth, and a leather collar. He finally ditched the halter as he finally realized how it made Raine and Karkas look bad, though for the most part, he was not wearing anything decent enough to be considered a civilized person. Raine was convinced that this was Narati’s unusual choice of clothing as no other Fa’ars wore anything skimpier than Narati. If he simply removed the loincloth and the vest, he would be left with nothing but fur. At least he wore fingerless gloves and footwear to protect his feet, and also straps for his long, worm-like tail.

Raine should try and ask Narati about it sometime. Maybe later when they could finally begin leaving behind a life of bounty hunting and start working a more honest life for a chance. They may have held on to their principles, but Raine doubted they could keep on it after a year or so. Even after six months of working as a trio, they started to make morally grey choices and even raked up more body count than they should. The only thing they would never do was return an escaped slave into slavery, even if it meant losing potential bounty. It would be quite a sad fact to have a freed slave depriving someone else their freedom.

So, as they became aware of this fact, they decided that this job could be their last for a while. Raine made his decision and voiced his opinion on what to do next.

“Now that we have broken up raider camps and reap the rewards from each, maybe we should start saving them and start scouting for a land,” said Raine. “Hopefully.”

“That doesn’t sound reassuring,” said Karkas.

“The fertile land in the Valley’s already exploited by a lot of farmers. It would be great if we had an abandoned farm to develop but considering how important food was in this time and age, I doubt anyone would want to keep a farm abandoned for so long. Of course, if we happen to find a bandit camp like this, we’re lucky. Scare them away and we got a farm of our own. That’s a fat chance, though.”

“So, we’re limited to the desert.”

“Here? I was hoping you’d know a place by the riverside.”

“I prefer not to deal with the tribes. Being tribeless is bad enough, walking around wearing priest robes outside of temples can earn you a trip to the whipping post.”

“Then buy yourself some new clothes instead of walking around looking like that. You too, Nara. Wear some pants.”

“It’s comfortable,” reasoned Narati.

“I concur,” followed Karkas.

Raine could only sigh. “Once winter comes, you’ll be glad to wear something other than your scales and your fur. And here I thought reptiles can’t stand cold.”

“We’ll think about it once we get to that point,” said Karkas. “But you’re right. I’ll go get something more functional. Nara?”

“I’ll stick with what I have for now,” said Narati.

“Your choice, kid.”

Raine started to realize that it would be difficult to start a farm when the only fertile lands were limited. There weren’t many spots in the desert where they could start and repurposing abandoned settlements was too much work. They could change things up with magic, but they would need to search someone who understood farming and with knowledge of spells that could help. Raine always knew that it would not be easy, even more so if the people he was acquainted with had no skills in farming.

Narati, despite being a former slave, was never involved in any farming, as he revealed. He was more a labor force than a farmer, along with becoming an object of desire that was both degrading and traumatizing. He did not wish to continue discussing his past, so when Raine asked about his skills on the field, the rat person simply said, “I carry things” and refused to elaborate further. Raine, understanding why, decided not to press the issue further.

Karkas, despite of being a priest, had almost no farming skills as he was focused on honing his magic skills. He did claim that priests of Sobek learned many skills to help the tribes, regardless of what tribe they belong to. This, of course, included farming skills and fishing skills, along with traditional medicine and healing magic. Karkas admitted that he was considered an outlier in more ways than one: hatched an orphan with his tribe a mystery, the Croc was raised to be a priest. A dispute caused him to leave his temple and he wandered until he met Asran.

“And then all went to shit and here I am,” he said, finishing his story.

“So, in short, you can’t farm,” concluded Raine.

“I can fish, if that works.”

“Not unless we got ourselves a farm by the riverside.” Raine sighed. “You know what? Instead of working things out, how about if we visit the Valley? We all need the change of scenery and some downtime after everything we went through.”

“Can’t argue with that,” said Karkas. “Lead on, then, friend.”

The two were not hesitant to see something different. They, however, did not account on Narati, who was concerned. Raine noticed his ears and concerned look, something that was not that hard to discern once he interacted with rat people often enough. He wondered if Narati did not feel well, so he walked to the young Fa’ar and kneel, so his eyes were level with the rat person.

“What’s wrong, kid?” asked Raine.

“Nothing, just...you showed me pictures of your homeland and, to be honest with you, I’m…worried.”

“You’re worried how we treat Fa’ars, aren’t you?”

“And also, I…I’ve never seen such a green place before. I lived my whole life in an arid land. I have seen green, but not like that. And then you said it’s going to be cold. It’s exciting, but also…concerning.”

“Hey, look…. It’s not a bad place to be, Nara. A lot of us don’t mind Fa’ars, though you might not want to get involved with those who’s very mindful of your history, or havens. Don’t ask me why all walled cities called havens agreed to enforce the same law, but I’m none the wiser. You might find that it’s much more pleasant there. The air’s nicer and humid.”

“Humid?”

“Well, not humid humid. I mean, there’s a lot more water there to sustain a greener environment. In any case, I’m sure you’ll be less concerned there, unless of course someone happened to mistake you for someone else and kidnap you without a good reason.”

Since Raine glanced at Karkas, the Croc knew the human was referring to him. Karkas simply let out an annoyed growl and a sardonic laugh.

“And don’t worry. You’re with me and Karkas. I’m sure no one’s going to pick on you while we’re at it. Even if they do, they’re not gonna mess with a Fa’ar carrying a goddamn murder machine on his back.”

“It’s not a murder machine, Raine.”

“Yes, it is,” insisted Raine, before he chuckled. Narati could not help but laugh.

“Thanks, Raine,” said Narati.

“Any time, buddy. You ready to go?”

Narati nodded enthusiastically, so Raine smiled and walked towards east, where he could see the green on the horizon with his sharp eyes. Karkas followed beside the Fa’ar while helping to carry some of the rat’s stuff.

While this would not be the last time they’d return to the desert wasteland, the trio knew that, to move on from their recent tragedy, they had to find a better place to be. They achieved their goal in just half a year, so now they closed that chapter of their adventure and go on for another.

And so, they went, for the bountiful and beautiful Emerald Valley.