The journey to Wingfall was slow. Not that it was far, nothing in the region was very far from Shatter-Shield, seeing as it was at the region’s center, but rather, the environment decided it didn’t approve of his journey. A landslide that had blocked the road before him and heavy rain forced him to divert his path through the old forest, he did not know whether that was a good idea and was very reluctant to continue.

  A major factor was that he didn’t know the path through the old forest very well and could easily get lost. Another was that he of all people knew quite well how aggressive the forest could be to those it viewed as invaders, and did not know if it would recognize him. He also considered the fact that he did not know where the normal trees gave way to the Old Oak’s grove, and whether the patrolling ents and other forest-kin would bother to speak to him before attacking him as a trespasser.

  Still, he decided to continue his journey, for he knew not when he’d have another opportunity for a personal journey. He’d just have to hope the sapient grove, or at least the Old Oak, somehow recognized him after all these years.

  As he travelled, he remembered how impressive the scenery had seemed all those years before, and how striking it was even now. Bioluminescent mosses climbed and hung from every tree, as active in the rain’s dark as they would be in the night, highlighting the world around them in gentle blue, purple, and green. The leaves rustled in the rain, the insects chirped, and the beasts called out in their activities. Bushes rustled as a wildcat chased a rabbit, a snake with glowing stripes hung from a tree branch, and a wise old owl looked down upon the forest floor. Life continued in the forest, as it had for so long, even in the unbearable rain, which made his helm ring like a bell with every drop that fell upon it.

  His first sign that he was being watched was a pale stag, with glowing blue eyes and a similarly glowing pattern of lines that were akin to a tattoo. It stood in a small clearing, staring at him intently, almost unmoving. The second was the wood-stalker hanging from a branch, also staring at him with its featureless face.

  Wood-stalkers, also known as converted seekers, were any sylvan grove’s basic line forces. Humans, or other races, implanted with a seed akin to that of a parasitic spriggan, a seed which would slowly transform flesh to bark and flexible mycelium, creating a featureless, unintelligent soldier, capable only of following orders. The older and more successful ones would develop intelligence and evolve to take a different form, but those were no longer considered converted. Converted could also be grown directly, though that was a lengthy process.

  He knew not whether the one that now watched him with its featureless face of glowing green moss was being controlled, but it hadn’t attacked him yet, even when he passed below it, so he took that to be a good sign, and moved on. It was only a matter of time before someone came to speak to him. He continued through the forest, enjoying the scenery, noticing the subtle rustling of the foliage as beings flickered to and from. Animals, or something more?

  The question became harder to answer as a heavy mist rolled through the forest, obscuring the forest floor and anything near it. His warg was becoming unsettled. The glow of the moss was dulling, though there was no less of it. The creatures were going quiet. It was an unsettling change in scenery.

  “Dragon Knight” said a rumbling voice from somewhere nearby, sparks flew into the air, orange glowing eyes peered at him from an indeterminate distance.

  “Flameroot.” He responded.

  “Few know that name, but all who know it are friends.” The voice rumbled, far warmer now than before. “Lilypad, please dismiss your mist.”

  “I am not quite so trusting as you, one that burns.” Said another, far more feminine voice. “What is your purpose here, Dragon knight, and how do you know the charred one’s name?” Vines crept up his foot as she spoke, his warg remained untouched, but tensed anyways.

  He chuckled at the attempt at interrogation but answered anyways. “I am not supposed to be here, but the rain and a landslide have forced me off the road, but I would not allow that to halt my journey. As for how I know that name, I reckon he has an inkling.”

  “That is not an answer.” Said Lilypad. Flameroot, however, had a different response. He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground and a fire illuminated the clearing and dispelled the mist.

  “Please, take your helm off.” He asked. David did as he was asked. “Little David? Ethel’s prized nephew? I can’t believe you’re alive!” The lumbering Ent closed the distance at an alarming pace and swept him into a hug that made his armor creak and his warg begin to growl.

  “It is good to see you too, Flameroot, but I think you’re alarming my warg, and likely about to start leaving an imprint on my armor.”

  “Apologies.” Said the Ent, dropping him onto his feet. “You’ve grown mightily, and earned far too many scars for a mage. I suppose hunting monsters is an arduous endeavor. That or... don’t tell me you ended up as another branch-swinger like Steelbark...”

  “Mind introducing me, one that burns?” Asked the still-unseen other Ent.

  “When you show yourself, Lilypad.” He rumbled back.

  “You’ll find, Flameroot, that I’m no such thing. I use plenty of magic in my line of work. I even have a familiar.” He stated, calling down his raven, which dove through the canopy to join his pauldrons on his shoulders. “A raven, an interesting choice, wisdom and cunning are not things you lack.”

  “Have you considered, O burner of fields, that he didn’t get to choose it? Some of us are spoiled for choice, and others have to work with what they’re given.” Said the other as she emerged from the ground before his mount. She was dainty, for an Ent, about a head shorter than him and about his width, instead of branches she possessed a giant Lilypad atop her head, covered in colorful flowers. Her bark, in the few places it was seen, was blue and green like a lake’s water and the surface of her body appeared as if it were made of roots of similar colors. A pair of three-fingered hands immediately set to caressing his warg.

  “You’re right, Lilypad.” Flameroot acquiesced. “Right then, David this is Lilypad, she’s a lake mandrake. She’s also my current patrol partner. Come on then, lad, the elder wants to speak with you.” The Ent led them through the forest and to a familiar clearing, where a familiar Ent stood proudly. Before they could greet each other, however, a booming voice filled the clearing.

  “BOY, IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU ONCE MORE. YOU HAVE GROWN SO MUCH, THOUGH IT SEEMED LIKE YESTERDAY WE LAST SPOKE, AND YOU WERE MUCH SMALLER THEN.” Boomed the voice of the Old Oak. “I AM SORRY ABOUT EIDRAHM, HAD THAT FILTHY LIZARD PASSED ABOVE MY FOREST HE WOULD NEVER HAVE ARRIVED.”

  “I am aware. But unfortunate though it might be, what occurred so long ago is set in stone, impossible to change. Though I wish I could.” David stated.

  “INDEED. I HAVE ACCRUED MANY REGRETS IN MY LIFE, BUT THAT IS NOT A TOPIC TO DISCUSS TODAY.” Boomed the tree. “VIGGO INFORMED ME OF YOUR COMING, AND THAT YOU CANNOT STAY, SO I WILL HAVE FLAMEROOT ESCORT YOU TO WHAT REMAINS OF EIDRAHM, WHERE THE NEW ONES BUILD THEIR TOWN. I DO HOPE YOU WILL VISIT AGAIN, SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE.”

  “That I will, Old one, I assure you.” David stated. “Thank you, and farewell.” Flameroot led him away before Steelbark could greet him, Lilypad breaking off to do whatever it is Ents do in the night. They travelled quietly, Flameroot having cast a spell to muffle their steps, and once more stepped onto the path to Eidrahm, as they had once before.

  “This brings memories.” Flameroot chuckled. “It is a shame that Ethel could not be here once more, as she was before. Ah... no matter, I will sing a song, to remind us of those days.” The Ent began to sing, it was a song that Aunt Ethel had been fond of and had sung as they travelled to the forest and back during his training. It certainly brought forth old memories.

  He could see light further down their path, the flickering of flames at even intervals, likely from braziers, and the glow of distant windows. He could hear the quiet roar of an inn in the evening, though only thanks to his enhanced senses, and the rustling and clinking of an armored patrol somewhere in their vicinity. Flameroot eventually split off to return to the grove, waving farewell, and he soon arrived at the gates to the new town.

  “Who goes there?” Demanded one of the guardsmen before the gate.

  “A Dragon Knight, as you ought to know by my armor.” He answered.

  “What are-” began the same guardsman.

  “Mirva’s sake, man, open the goddamn door!” Another exclaimed, rounding on his comrade. “Where do you get off interrogating a goddessdamned Dragon Knight? His business is to slay monsters, we have a monster problem, of course he’ll show up! Now, help us open the goddamn gate.”

  “R-Right.” Muttered the now thoroughly admonished nervous young guard as he helped push the gates open.

  “Apologies about my junior,” said the other guard. “He’s a bit paranoid. Afraid of dopplers and whatnot, to the point he’ll go and overstep his authority. He’d have tried to put you through a runic array of reveal true form, next, then he’d have had you searched by a healer... you get the point. He’s got me at the end of my rope.”

  “Paranoia is good, in some lines of work, and only to a certain extent.” David responded. “At the end of the day, it is an illness of the mind, and any mind healer worth his salt will be more than willing to help with it. Alternatively, have him transferred to an investigative force; they’ll make good use of his paranoia.”

  “Right. Unfortunately, he refuses to get help. I’m hoping we can get him to loosen up a bit and get him drunk, might be able to get him to a healer then.” Said the guard.

  “Good luck with that.” Said David. “Now, you mentioned a monster problem?”

  “Yessir. A wyvern in the mundane woods nearby, and a drake in the hills, officially undetermined variants.” Said the guard.

  “And unofficially?” David queried.

  “Me and the boys think it's a flame wyvern. Call it an insight from experience.” The guardsman lifted his helm to reveal a burn scar encompassing the left side of his head. “The wyvern has already killed a group of adventurers. The drake is likely also a flame beast, seeing as it likely caused the recent fire in the hills.”

  “Yes, those might be correlated.” He responded. “I’ll check in at the inn and see what I can do tomorrow. You’ll likely have to wait a few weeks for me to get a team out here to kill the wyvern, unless it turns out to be a youngling like the one I killed for my coming-of-age. I can, however, handle the drake.” They said their farewells and he departed to the bustling inn, an inn decorated rather... accurately.

  The Dragon’s Head inn gave the distinct impression that it had been built into a dragon’s skull, with the exterior being an exceptionally accurate marble reconstruction of a sky dragon’s head. The Inn’s menu, along with everything else about it, appeared to be themed around dragons, with their signature platter being called the ‘Dragon’s Wing Filet’, which he found to not be actual dragon flesh.

  Someone must have noticed his heraldry, because he was soon approached by an adventurer. “Are you here to kill the wyvern?” The adventurer asked.

  “Not originally no, and not actually, unless a team of my fellows manifests to aid me in that task.” He said as he finished off his platter.

  “It's a wyvern, not a dragon!” Someone heckled.

  “Yes, and? Were it a juvenile I guarantee it’d be dead by now, slain by the adventurers sent out to kill it, but as it is not, that leaves a few possibilities.” He began. “One is that your comrades were weak,” He spat the word out as if it were something vile. “Another is that the wyvern was in fact multiple wyverns. The last is that it’s an adult, or elder, wyvern. In which case I will require a full team of knights.”

  “Assuming it is a common fire wyvern,” He continued. “Because, as far as I am aware, there are none, or very few, of the rarer breeds in this region, I believe I can rule out the possibility of it being a pack of wyverns. Thus, it is likely that the wyvern in question is an adult, or older. A Juvenile requires but a single knight, or a team of adventurers, to slay, an adult requires a team of knights, and an elder requires a team, or two, and heavy preparations. And that, is assuming that the beast hasn’t started cultivating.”

  The adventurers had fallen quiet as he explained, but the room erupted in uproar when his explanation concluded. Questions, complaints, and statements of doubt flew as the adventurers processed his statement. He did not deign to answer most of their questions, only the good ones.

  “Why do you say that fire wyverns wouldn’t travel in packs?” One asked from her place near the hearth.

  “Common fire wyverns, as a rule of thumb, are highly aggressive and territorial, only ever seen together during mating season, after which the male departs, and the female remains to care for their clutch.” He explained.

  “What of the drake?” asked another from amongst a table of elves.

  “Drakes are far easier to hunt, stemming primarily from their lack of flight, which makes using traps so much easier. They are also, commonly, more brutish, dependent on strength rather than elemental might.” He answered.

  “Could the wyvern be a dragon?” asked a deep-voiced fellow somewhere near the innkeeper.

  “That is... not altogether impossible. The Ancestor Oak, guardian of the old forest, would never let such a creature fly above it and survive, but it would not be the first time that a dragon bypassed the forest, as your guild master could tell you.” He answered.

  “I am the guild master, Dragon Knight, you know of my past?” the deep-voiced fellow, now known to be Deagan, asked.

  “Well, old friend, I survived the attack too.” He answered.

  “Fergus? No. You’re Leif.” Deagan decided.

  “Incorrect, but close.” He stated, standing from his place and fully removing his helm. Short tawny hair rustled in its newfound freedom, glowing green sclera-less eyes peered out from a now-scarred face.

  “You’re dead, you died fighting the dragon, we were told there were no survivors.” Said Deagan, also standing.

  “Did I die? I’m not sure. But I lived!” He exclaimed. “And here I am today.” His old friend rushed forward, and he instinctively dodged the charge, letting his old friend crash into the tables.

  “Sorry Honey!” Deagan exclaimed in response to a glare from the innkeeper and stood from the splintered mess that was a table. “That never did work on you, David. You know everyone thought you were dead, except for Runa.”

  “I figured as much.” Is what he’d begun to say, but he stopped short. His amulet had started heating up under his armor. He pried his cuirass off and separated it from the chainmail it had been warming.

  “What is it?” Deagan asked, peering at the amulet. His eyes lit up once he recognized it. “Wait, is that the amulet she gave you during the solstice in which you-?”

  “Yes.” He interrupted. The story Deagan was about to start off on was not one he had any desire to relive, else he might remember a far less pleasant night. “It is heating up.”

  “Odd.” Deagan stated, moving his hand until it was hovering just off the amulet’s surface. “I can feel it. It almost burns.”

  “Indeed.” David agreed. “I ought to have someone better equipped to determine whatever power it's been given examine it. The heat is already fading.” He reequipped his gear.

  “I believe that amulet is enchanted with guidance, pair bond, and empower flames, just off first glance.” Said a sagely adventurer from the nearest table. “You should get an expert to examine that.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Thank you, Zeren.” Said Deagan.

  “Moving on. I intend to tackle your drake problem tomorrow and scout out the wyvern. Neither was my original reason for showing up, however, that was a need to make you aware that I am, in fact, alive, and live nearby.” He stated. “Should you have any monster problems, send notice to fort Shatter-Shield, it is where I command my new chapter.”

  “Good.” Said Deagan. “Better to have you close for when your siblings find out, and so I can see the fallout of Runa finding out.”

  “What do you expect?” David asked.

  “I don’t know. She’s been in a frenzy in recent months, something about having spoken with an oracle, and I have no idea what she’ll be like once she sees you.” Deagan said. “Anyways,” he gestured to a table. “Tell me everything.”

  “Gladly.”

  David regaled the gathered adventurers, and his old friend, with a recounting of his adventures since the destruction of his village, and far more recent events. He told them of his training, and the wyvern hunt that nearly killed him. He told them of his time as a squire, of the plagued city of Rammanir, and the ghoul-ridden ruins of Lughmar, and the second dragon hunt he was a part of. And of his early days as a knight, he told the tale of a battle with a griffin, to save a spoiled noble, and of his duel against a troll, in the arena of the Gildarian capitol, and then of the demonic incursion, thwarted alongside his squires.

  He was not some marvelous storyteller, but he still captivated his audience. Then again, they were adventurers, they lived for things like that, and the younger ones yearned for similar adventures. If only they, the younger ones, understood that such adventures would also lead to the loss of many friends and comrades in the line of duty. Perhaps then more of them would choose to be more cautious in their adventures, or simply not undertake any such adventures.

  Eventually, everyone departed, having grown weary with the night’s passage. He was no exception.

  ...................................

  The next day saw him first in the mundane woods near the town, searching for tracks. He traversed the woods swiftly, on foot, though he was certain that a trained ranger could have tracked his foe even faster than him. He was no ranger, however, so he made do.

  He began by locating the place where the, now dead, team of adventurers that had attempted to hunt the wyvern had camped. Once that site was found, he followed the path they’d cleared through the foliage, finding few, but not none, of the major signs of a wyvern in the area. Key amongst those signs, was the presence of another wyvern, a juvenile flame wyvern, clearly killed by a similar beast, though possibly of a different element. There were few creatures in the region that could kill a wyvern, another wyvern being the obvious example.

  The shape of the wound, however, implied either that the scavengers had been at it for a while, or the presence of something a bit different from a wyvern. The peculiar upturning of the ground at intervals around the wyvern certainly helped his forming theory. He continued the search, looking for the slain party, or the site of their battle. He noticed, as he traveled, the unusual lack of other creatures in the area, something normal with the active presence of a predator, but there was no obvious predator in the area.

  Finding the site of the battle only compounded that. There were more of the unusual spots of upturned ground, as well as more obvious marks, as if a creature had been travelling just below its surface. The corpses of the adventurers, decayed as they were, were in quite a state. The adventurers were all missing parts, and several corpses were completely absent, and evidently nowhere near the area, considering that, no matter how hard he searched, they could not be found. Having checked the party register, he knew that this specific party had two halflings, a trio of dwarves, and a human, the dwarves were the most intact, the halflings completely absent, and the human’s lower half was missing in its entirety.

  These factors taken into account; he bolted out of the woods faster than he’d ever run in armor. He knew what it was he was dealing with, and it was considerably worse than any wyvern. It was also not supposed to be there. Meaning that something had pushed it from its home further south, and few indeed were the creatures that could pull that trick off. He beat feet to the town gates and only then did he halt his stride as the guards approached him.

  “What is it?” One of them asked, nervous. Few indeed were the days a Dragon Knight panicked; this was one such day.

  “Open the door, get the chief and the guild master, have them meet me in the tavern, have someone fetch all of the adventurers in the town. Now.” He ordered. The guards acceded. He ran to the inn, commandeered a table, set out all of his books, checking and rechecking, hoping he was wrong, and started setting out resources. Poisons, Venoms, potions, books, and materials soon covered the table, and another that he’d dragged to its side.

  People had started flooding in as he checked his books and became more and more agitated as he frantically started setting out resources, but they were not yet aware of what they were dealing with. He set aside a copy of ‘Monstrum: On Exotic Beasts’ as Deagan and what must have been the town chief arrived.

  “What is it?” Deagan asked as he arrived before David.

  “A Devourer.” Answered David.

  The tension in the room spiked, sharp as knives now. Everyone had at the very least heard of the Devourer, few were the creatures that were so feared as them. Not because of some grand amount of power, but rather because they were a terror, and one not quite so rare as dragons and similar beasts. Certainly rare, but far more common than Dragons.

  “For those who only know the name, and the fear it bears: A Devourer is an abomination, gluttony made manifest in the form of a beast. It swims through solid land like a fish through water. It devours every living thing for miles, moving on only when all that remains is desolation. It detects life energy and seeks it. It will eat anything, be it beast, man, or plant, if it lives it will be consumed. Even wyverns. They possess an extremely strong, scale-like shell, and a stronger bite.” He explained.

  “They hunt by leaping from the earth’s embrace, swallowing their prey whole, or ripping massive chunks from them, unfortunately that is the sole moment in which their weakness is displayed. Their belly. We have but one choice, unless you wish to evacuate, we must slay it. Alas, there are few poisons the abominations cannot resist, I have but one of them. It will weaken the beast but not kill it outright.”

  “What poison is that?” A dwarven adventurer, armored lightly and with many vials of toxins on display, asked.

  “Basilisk venom.” David answered, and the dwarf whistled.

  “Tha’s expensive, and powerful.” Said the dwarf.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Deagan.

  “Do we have any earth mages here?” David asked. Three hands rose. “We’ll be depending on you to hold the abomination or at least force it aboveground. How many of you can enhance others?”

  Five hands rose. A priest of Uldren stepped forth. “I can perform mass enhancement and consume all enhancements on those around me to empower a single person.”

  “Good. We’ll not be able to reach the abomination’s weakness unless we can flip it over, so we’ll need enhancements to breach its carapace if we cannot exploit its weakness. We will lure it out three days from now, I already have suitable bait. In the meantime, prepare, do not stray too far. Today I will hunt the drake in the hills, and hopefully tame it, it ought to be strong enough to deal significant damage to the abomination. Tomorrow we will practice, and the second day will be spent in preparation; the third day shall be the day of our battle. I will be able to create a far more comprehensive plan once I am aware of your capabilities.”

  “How will you tame the drake?” a barbarian asked.

  “I am hoping that it is of the more numerous breeds in the region, which are wardrakes of the old kingdom that have long since gone feral, in which case it will submit if I can display sufficient strength. If it is not, then it will still submit, it will simply be far harder to control. Either way, it is not entering the town.” David Explained.

  “Can a Devourer be tamed?” Someone asked.

  “No.” He answered.

  ...........................

  The grassy hills near the town were mostly unchanged from when he’d last been there, still as sparsely wooded and populated as ever before, mostly. There was one that had undergone a few obvious changes, beginning with the crown of jagged stones that rose about its top, and ending with the current ashen greyness of the hill. Closer inspection revealed the remnants of the slaughter. The charred remains of the adventuring party that had been sent after the drake, an obvious result of the fire.

  But what came first, the fire, or their death? For most, he assumed, death had come first, death by dismembering. But some remained intact, but for the charred state they were in. Jagged stone rose from the ground at seemingly random intervals, scorched and shattered at similarly random intervals, could it be?

  Perhaps the fire was a last-ditch effort, not from the drake, but from the party, a large fireball spell set off at close range? The marks of conflict had already been washed or burnt off the ground, so he had only speculation to go off of, but it was an enticing possibility. A stone drake would be an exceptionally valuable tool for his efforts, capable of turning the tide against the Devourer. If he could tame the drake.

  Unfortunately, that was not to be, he soon found the remnants of the drake, missing its head and entire frontal half, and decided to retreat, before the Devourer that had likely killed it returned.

  And so, three days later, he found himself, alongside a good thirty adventurers, standing in a pit, waiting for a single beast to take the bait they’d laid out. “Why, exactly, did you insist that all of us needed to be here?” asked an adventurer adjacent to him.

  “This is a very big Devourer, likely an old beast, and they get stronger as they age, like most abominations and magical beasts. Additionally, you are all relatively low level, most of you being below silver. In fact, Deagan and I are the only gold combatants here. You intend to use the dungeon as a grindstone because you’re too low level to handle it, not because you can already beat it.” The earth started to rumble as he gave his answer, a sign of the nearing foe. He jumped into the pit.

  An armored fin broke the earth’s surface within the pit, a pair of black horns before it. The ground bulged out. The beast was fast approaching. They only had to wait a minute before it erupted from the ground beneath their bait, engulfing it in a single bite. Spears and Javelins, their throwers empowered by the mages and priests, clattered against the beast’s carapace, doing little against it.

  The beast caught on quickly. It attempted to dive beneath the soil’s surface but found it too tough to break without more time and effort, so it whirled around and charged at a group of adventurers, or at least the wall they stood on, forcing them to scatter to prevent any loss of balance from the impact. He charged the beast, Deagan right behind him, and kneeled midway, arms out to push his friend into the air. Deagan fell upon the beast with crushing might, his hammer doing little to crack the Devourer’s scales.

  “Fucking thing’s tougher than steel!” Deagan exclaimed, dodging away from the beast’s head before it could attempt a bite. “I don’t think this is a normal Devourer!”

  “No, it is.” David said, dodging a spear that had been deflected off of its shell. He drank a strengthening potion and burst forward, stabbing at the beast. Mithril bit into its shell-like scales and the blade left a deep gouge, even as it skidded off the still-moving beast’s carapace. The Devourer’s charge had ceased as it redirected its attention, but its momentum still carried it forward, for it was a massive creature, and it barreled into a wall.

  A zealous spear-wielding fighter ran up to it as it recovered, evidently intending to stab its vulnerable eyes, but underestimated the speed at which it would recover, and was soon missing his lower half. That’s when the ballista they’d prepared took its first shot, though it ought to have been fired well before that. A massive bolt, engraved with runes to enhance its impact, crashed into the beast’s flank, causing its diamond-hard carapace to crack somewhat, though not enough to make any real difference.

  “Attack the cracked parts,” He bellowed, charging back into the fray. He placed himself at the beast’s shattered side and stabbed again, right between the cracks, and dodged away. Deagan rushed up and hammered the shattered area with a mana-charged blow. “We need to clear the way for the next bolt!”

  “Will we even manage that?” Deagan yelled as they dodged below a whip-like lash of its tail.

  “Certainly, if the beast keeps getting distracted by your adventurers throwing spears and javelins at it.” Said David, evading a swipe of the beast’s clawed Wyvern-like front legs to rush in and stab it again. “Besides, its weakened, the poison’s doing wonders.”

  “This is it weakened?!” His friend roared, hammering the shattered scales once more, and sending shards flying.

  “Yes.” He responded as he took Deagan’s place at the beast’s shattered side. The shattered scales were by now falling apart, and his blade had a clear way through. The lightning within it roared to life, and he stabbed. He fed Qi into the blade, all that he’d gathered in the past few days, not enough to bite into his core’s third layer. The lightning ripped through the beast’s body, as it had through the basilisk’s own. It was nowhere near as effective as it had been then.

  The beast fought through the pain quickly enough, and he was forced to dodge away even as it whirled to try to bite him. Fortunately, in doing so it exposed its shattered flank to Deagan, who hammered into it once more. It reared back in pain before it could bite him, which it would have otherwise. A whistle sounded out from the walls.

  “NOW!” Deagan bellowed, and another bolt flew, alongside another barrage of spears and javelins. The bolt struck its mark and pinned the beast to the ground; it roared in pain, and an arrow struck its exposed throat, a stone spike lanced from below and through its back, just below one of the frontal legs. The beast fell, dead or unconscious.

  Cheers rang out through the pit, and he approached the fallen Devourer. His blade sunk into the soft scales on the underside of the beast’s neck, and he slit it. “Someone better come help me get its head off.” He stated, and soon enough, its head was off, having required a group effort to remove. “Mount it as a trophy for the guild hall.” he told Deagan as he got to work removing the beast’s heart.

  “You don’t normally do all the harvesting yourself, do you?” Deagan asked.

  “No, only on the field.” David stated. “When we kill something this big, we normally let a specialist harvesting team have at it. When we’re in active combat, or too far to get a team out to the corpse, we just take the most valuable or needed parts. In this case, however, I’ll leave the looting to your guild, I’m just confirming the kill.”

  “I assume you’ll want an in for your trainees?” Deagan asked.

  “Correct.” He answered. He dumped the beast’s massive heart into a barrel that’d been brought out. “For services rendered, I want your guild to be willing to accept my recruits as guildmembers and allow them to delve dungeons under your guild’s name.”

  “Other guilds don’t accept you?” Deagan asked. “It seems to me like having dragon knights among your number would be a great honor.”

  “No.” He began. “Most guilds don’t accept us dragon knights. Most guilds believe us to be arrogant pricks who look down on them all and steal their non-delving contracts, and as such, tend to treat us like rival guildmembers, rather than independent agents who might join theirs. This, of course, makes getting our recruits field training that much more difficult, and dangerous.”

  “I assume they don’t see the benefit in having extremely well-trained guildmembers who are practically guaranteed to go further than others and bring out more resources?” Deagan asked.

  “Oh, they see the benefit, they just don’t want to alienate the ‘proud bold Adventurer’ types.” David explained. “After all, those are the most prominent and numerous adventurers in their guilds. They’d see a loss in revenue from delving up until they trained some fresh talented adventurers, and even then, they’d be receiving support from the Order to mitigate the damage and hasten their growth.”

  “Our growth is in your favor because you could use our expansion as a way of finding new recruits and cultivating talent.” Deagan surmised. “It also reduces the number of chaff contracts around because our guildmembers can undertake them and succeed, so you’ll encourage the growth of our guild.”

  “Exactly.” He agreed, and began to cut into the beast again, now searching for its second heart. “Now, I know the past few days have been all old stories, fierce fights, and comely adventurer maidens, but the real reason I came here was to get your support, not to notify you of my continued existence.”

  “This fight has served you well, then, because you’ve earned the entire guild’s support.” Deagan declared. “Your recruits will always have a place in the guild’s membership. Now, what would be a proper reward for these adventurers?”

  “A scale for each of them, and a fang for each of the mages and priests.” Said David, cutting through a membrane in his way. “Each scale, the size of a man’s hand on a normal devourer, is worth sixty gold, and each fang is worth five hundred. For this beast, I expect each scale to be closer to two hundred and each fang closer to a platinum.” He made sure to speak extra loudly, so they could all hear him.

  “That, is a lot of money.” Deagan said, astounded.

  “Yes, well, each scale is about as tough as blacksteel, though some call them diamond scales, and each fang is just as tough, and an exceptional channel for magic. Although... the beast itself doesn’t use much magic.” He said, before remembering something important. “You need to claim the Crimson Fjord Caldera.” he said abruptly.

  “Claim it?” said a bemused Deagan.

  “It is a dungeon, but it has no guild. Yours is close and now allied to my chapter of the order, so if you claim the caldera, I can have my recruits police it until you can establish a branch, and then you can set up delves and claim revenue from it.” He explained as he cut the arteries connected to the heart. He took a bottle and filled it with the heart’s blood while he was at it.

  “Why has nobody done this yet?” Deagan asked, moving a barrel closer to David so he could store the second heart.

  “Because the Caldera, old friend, is, simply put ‘dangerous as fuck’.” He said as he began cleaning his gauntlets off with his canteen. “It is on a world vein, so it produces an absurd number of monsters, those in the deeper levels being very powerful, but regulating themselves, and the ones on the surface overrunning the place. My cadets recently performed a culling of the surface monsters, your adventurers should also be able to manage it, with sufficient training and experience from delving.”

  “Guild master.” Greeted a herald. “Sir Knight, there is an Ursid here, she was searching for you -.” The herald’s sentence was cut short by Astrid barging past him and pushing him aside.

  “Had I known you were leaving to fight a devourer, my thane, I would never have allowed you to leave.” She declared coldly as she stepped up to him.

  “Astrid, I did not know I was leaving to fight a devourer, the devourer was not a factor until the day after I arrived, when I discovered there was a devourer in the area.” He explained calmly, as if he’d not just been fighting a beast that ate wyverns as a regularity and had absolutely exhausted him. “Besides, I’m not even wounded, I’ve come out of other fights worse than this.”

  “Oh? And what, my thane, motivated you to battle the beast with a cadre of wannabe adventurers and their babysitter?” she asked, stepping closer. He could already hear the complaints that comment elicited from some of the adventurers and resisted the urge to chuckle at them, mirth would only make his situation worse.

  “I couldn’t just allow them to die, Astrid, and I knew they wouldn’t evacuate, so I did my duty as thane and dragon knight both.” He responded, her expression softened.

  “I know, my thane, but you’re more important than-” she said softly.

  “Brother, you never told me you had a wife!” Deagan interrupted, boisterous as always, and obviously heckling him.

  He laughed. “A wife? Deagan, this is my huscarl, not my wife”. Said Huscarl had pointedly turned away.

  “Well, whoever chose her for the role picked well, I’ll say that much. You bicker like lovers, and you’ve only known each other for such a short time!” Deagan laughed. “I’ll be seeing nephews before long!” The adventurers around them chuckled.

  “Please I’ve known her for less than a month, I’m certainly not magnetic enough to have made her fall for my dashing countenance already.” David chuckled. He certainly didn’t consider himself ‘dashing’, not with the scars he’d earned and the monochromatic glowing green eyes that had replaced his once normal eyes.

  “You say that, but you ought to remember that the same thing happened with Runa, the two of you took less than a week to become inseparable.” Said Deagan, chuckling softly at the memory. Something in David raged at it, at the mere memory of his days with her, it was an unsettling resonance that he’d carried with him since he’d met his fondest friend, and one he ought to speak to an expert about. Either way, that was a topic that he did not wish to speak to his friend about, not now.

  “You know, why is it that you call me brother, was the blood oath not dissolved when I ‘died’?” David asked, obviously trying to change the topic.

  “Trying to change the topic, eh? I guess there really is something there, did you want to keep it hidden?” Deagan needled.

  David sighed.