Charlemagne gave the hairy creature an annoyed squawk, indignant at being interrupted so rudely. He advanced menacingly, wondering once again if he should just attack the beast. Luckily for the gorilla, the rooster’s enhanced memory served in its favor: Charlemagne was hesitant to attack someone who had offered a suitable gift and showed proper subservience. His greed outweighed his annoyance, for the moment.

  “I said, we really should get a move on before that display of yours brings trouble down on our heads. Even though Lagos is still pretty far to the east, human patrols are all over the place these days. What’s worse, they and the dogs have an alliance, so it’s hard to go unnoticed once one of those infernal hounds has caught your scent. If you’d like, I can take you back to our city. There aren’t very many chickens there, but we are building a pretty broad resistance against the human, cat, and dog triumvirate. We’d be lucky to have such a strong fighter as you by our side, to be honest.”

  “Wark,” Charlemagne answered honestly, not particularly wanting to leave the area just yet.

  “Was that a ‘yes’?” Francois asked. “Flap once for ‘yes’, and two times for ‘no’, my feathered friend.”

  Charlemagne flapped two times.

  “I’ll give you more baguettes,” the gorilla promised.

  The rooster thought for a moment. There really wasn’t anything tying him to the area. He had no idea if he had any progeny, or where they were if they existed. Giving in to his lust for bread, he flapped once.

  “Parfait! I need to conserve the remaining charges on this quiver in case we get attacked, but I’ll give you a whole bunch once we make it to the city. Yes, I know it should have a name, but no one can agree. Some want to call it Animal City, but that is so boring, you know. I think that…”

  The hairy creature stopped midsentence, its body tensing up and its eyes rolling back in their sockets, although it remained upright. Then it spat up a small amount of blood and relaxed, looking completely fine again.

  “Sorry about that, mon ami. Had to fight off a bacteria that had gotten a bit too cocky. You know how it is…or maybe you don’t, I can’t imagine eating that piece of metal did your gut any favors.”

  Charlemagne flapped his wings and bawked his agreement.

  “Oh, you do? Well, anyways, that’s life now. If the humans don’t get me, one of these days I’ll end up getting taken down by a bug. And speaking of bugs, I heard that there’s a Champion mosquito somewhere in the area, so be careful. You definitely don’t want to tangle with one of those. I heard that they are the fourth most powerful species.”

  Charlemagne was beginning to regret his decision to accompany the gorilla. He talked way too much. Charlemagne flapped his wings repeatedly and gave the chatty ape a “bawk” of warning.

  “You’re right…you’re right. Sorry, let’s just keep moving.”

  The pair set out to the north-east, giving the dead city of Porto Novo a wide berth. Charlemagne would have been happy to go another round with the horde of what he now understood were radioactive monsters, but Francois seemed to be afraid of even small amount of the energy that he called “radiation”. It was confusing to Charlemagne, until he came to realize that Francois couldn’t manipulate the energy to expel it, and that he didn’t heal the way that Charlemagne did.

  Largely tuning Francois out as the pair travelled, Charlemagne first assigned his fifteen free points, dividing them evenly among Strength, Dexterity, and Durability. He also finalized his choice for a Special Ability, choosing to take Battle Meditation over Radiation Core.

  Charlemagne felt better about his choice the further he and Francois got from Porto Novo. Outside of the desolated area, there was hardly any radiation at all. Picking Radiation Core would have limited his growth outside of areas like that, and he wasn’t sure where he would find large numbers of his own kind. He couldn’t wait to test the Special Ability in battle. If it was anywhere near as powerful as Food for the Stomach and the Stomach for Food, it would serve him well.

  While they travelled, Francois continually broke the comfortable silence to tell Charlemagne random facts, or ask him questions about himself that the rooster did not possess the language nor the patience to answer. Despite getting on the rooster’s nerves, the gorilla did share information that was very useful to Charlemagne.

  “You must keep your eye for, mon ami aviaire, for items generated by the System. They are very rare, but are always useful and some can be extremely powerful. My own item, the quiver that creates the baguettes, came from my class and it will only work for me. The System calls these ‘bound items’, because they can only have one owner and cannot be traded, even willingly. Which I guess is good for me, since you need me if you want more of that bread, eh? Oh, I think the reason the quiver summon baguettes is because of my class, which is ‘French Gorilla’, and…”

  Another one of the gorilla’s long-winded explanations involved his ability to make items disappear and reappear at will.

  “Ah, shortly after Integration Day all the gorillas received this power from our deity, Shabania. She said that it would help us ‘do gorilla things’, but I’m not sure what exactly that means. Anyways, she said that the ability called an ‘inventory’ and we could store a certain amount depending on our strength attribute in it. Where the stuff goes when I store it, I have no clue at all. It just…disappears. If I concentrate, I can kind of see what all I have in there.”

  Francois slowed his loping strides for a moment before continuing.

  “Maintenent I have a bunch of overripe bananas, my quiver, some rocks, a few metal pieces, and a roll of bandages in there. It’s not really an impressive collection, but I actually got a level a few days ago when I climbed up into a tree and at a whole bunch while I was keeping watch. Ohhhh, that’s what she meant by ‘gorilla things’. By Shabania’s hairy nostrils, I’ve been an idiot. Well, that ends today. I’m going to do it all: sign language, grunting, hitting my chest, eating too many bananas, hanging out with Jane Goodall...”

  The most annoying part of Francois’ chatter was that important information was hidden like pearls in a sea of barely-coherent ramblings. Thankfully, as they approached the city of Parakou in the heart of what used to be the Benin Republic, he started acting less like an overenthusiastic tour guide and more like a proper scout.

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

  “See here, mon ami, we can’t go this way. There are still humans living in the area. Let’s skirt around the west side of the city, there’s a forest that’s a bit of a long hike but it will give us much better cover as we pass through the area. I think there’s a river that runs more or less straight north, we can follow it for a while. Eventually we’ll want to head a bit further west anyways. If we don’t, I might miss some of the landmarks that will lead us to our city. It’s not easy to find, even if you know the area, because it’s hidden deep inside the great forest to the north.”

  The pair made good time, and had made it about halfway to the forest, when Francois suddenly stopped, sniffed the air suspiciously, and then dropped low to the ground.

  “Get down,” he hissed. “Something’s coming!”

  Charlemagne caught a brownish-grey streak barreling towards him from behind him and to his right. Rather than ducking down, he instead hopped forward, allowing what looked like a strange ball zoom past him. The projectile was moving so quickly that the wind from its passing ruffled the rooster’s feathers.

  “Francois, why don’t you stay down,” a deep voice called out, coming from behind them. The gorilla’s eyes widened in shock as he recognized whoever was speaking.

  “Benedict, is that you? Where are the others?”

  “Oui mon ami! I am at your service. Well, at least until I kill you and the bird, just like I killed the others. Once I present your bodies to the humans, they’ll make me an honorary member of their alliance.”

  “You killed them!” Francois yelled back, summoning his quiver. “You monster! Even if you come at me with an army, it won’t be enough to save your mangy hide!”

  “I don’t need an army,” came the ready reply. “I have a Champion on my side.”

  Charlemagne had ignored the pair of posturing apes, keeping his attention on where the ball had gone. His special senses told him that not only was the ball filled with mana, but that he definitely needed to consume it. But it had disappeared into the brush, and he wasn’t sure whether to kill the person who had thrown it or go after it first.

  “Charlemagne, let’s get this stupid ape!” Francois called as he advanced, keeping his eye out for the traitorous gorilla.

  “Wark!” Charlemagne called out in warning, sensing that the strange ball was on the move again, this time heading from Francois. But the gorilla was too slow to react, and the spherical object struck him full in the face. A few bloody teeth were sent flying by the impact as Francois crashed down to the ground.

  “Wark!” the rooster repeated, this time in surprise as the ball uncoiled itself, revealing a four-legged creature covered in scales.

  “That’s right, Francois’ feathered friend!” shouted Benedict from wherever he was hiding. “Ayawo the Pangolin is going to beat you to a pulp.”

  Charlemagne didn’t wait to hear any more blustering, accelerating to his top speed in an attempt to prevent the armored animal from finishing off Francois while he was knocked down. The gorilla wasn’t moving and appeared to be totally defenseless. Realizing its predicament, the pangolin leapt into the air, rolling back into a ball as it hurtled back toward where it had originally attacked from.

  The rooster didn’t understand how the creature could accelerate so quickly, but he knew that he would eventually have to catch the thing himself if he wanted to defeat it. For one thing, it was moving too fast for him to accurately aim his ranged blast. It also didn’t look like he would get time to charge up powerful attacks with how fast the pangolin was moving.

  While Charlemagne tried to figure out what was going on, he dodged another half-dozen attacks before receiving a glancing blow as the pangolin started adjusting to the rooster’s combat style. The blow rattled Charlemagne and made him fear that one solid hit would knock him out, just like Francois. But the pangolin’s trick continued to elude him as he wove between attacks, using the vast majority of his attention to keep track of the pangolin while also watching out for a surprise attack from the other gorilla. There had to be a reason that Benedict hadn’t attacked yet, and Charlemagne had a feeling that, if he could figure that out, he could win the battle.

  Two more glancing blows took out one of the rooster’s wings, and yet Charlemagne was still not any closer to figuring out a way to win the battle. He needed a way to increase his focus, so he could do two things at once better.

  Focus.

  The connections sparked inside the slow-witted rooster’s brain. He had just received a skill that would allow him to become more focused in battle: meditate. As Charlemagne activated the skill for the first time, the world seemed to slow down a little bit, giving him more time to decide on his next action and making it a bit easier to split his attention. It was exactly what he needed at that moment. Something began nagging at him, but he still couldn’t figure out exactly what it was he was supposed to be noticing.

  Another five attacks later, the epiphany finally struck the young rooster. The pangolin’s attacks only came from a small area on either side of him. Since Benedict wasn’t attacking, he must be helping the pangolin Champion in some way. Charlemagne needed to find Benedict and take him out first before dealing with the pangolin.

  With a plan as firmly in his mind as his limited brainpower would allow, the rooster allowed himself to take another glancing hit, watching carefully as the pangolin Champion bounced off him before slightly changing directions in midair. That was the opening that he was waiting for. Activating his Athletics skill to its fullest, he raced after the living projectile, which once again disappeared into some thick brush. A moment later, the rooster performed a blind dodge just as the pangolin zoomed back out the other way, going far too fast to stop and aid its ally. As Charlemagne burst through the undergrowth into a small clearing and finally spotted the elusive gorilla, he felt nothing but satisfaction as the creature’s eyes widened in fear.

  He used Strike to peck Benedict right in his flat nose, shattering the gorilla’s facial bones and sending them flying like shrapnel through the creature’s brain. The gorilla was dead before he hit the ground.

  Something glinted in Benedict’s hand, which had a literal death grip on the object. Looking closer, Charlemagne saw that it was a string of some sort but couldn’t figure out its purpose. The gorilla’s hand twitched suddenly and the rooster lashed out instinctively, clawing through the primate’s wrist. Once the tendons connecting it to the rest of the arm were cut, the hand relaxed, allowing the string to escape.

  Charlemagne turned to look for the pangolin Champion, determined to hunt it down, kill it, and then eat it. He reached out with his extra senses and was shocked to discover that the pangolin was already far away and still accelerating. There was no way he could catch it. Reluctantly giving up on the fleeing opponent, the rooster went to check on Francois. The gorilla was hurt worse than he had previously thought.

  Part of the gorilla’s chest had been caved in and his jaw was clearly broken. Francois couldn’t even close the bloody mess that was his mouth. His shallow breath and the pink foam clinging to his lips indicated that there was damage to the lungs. Charlemagne was certain that this level of injury would have slowed even him down for a while, especially if he didn’t have a ready source of nutrients to augment his natural healing abilities. For a creature like Francois, such injuries were undoubtedly fatal.

  “Did you get the traitor?” Francois wheezed, his mouth not really able to form the words but their intent coming across anyways.

  Charlemagne flapped his wings.

  “Good. Good. Then there’s just one more thing I need to, mon ami, to thank you for avenging me,” the gorilla added, loquacious even at death’s door. “Bring me my quiver. It’s over there somewhere.”

  Charlemagne found the magical item and dutifully dragged it back to his first ever companion. The ape took the quiver and, sitting up as best he could, summoned five of the magical baguettes before dropped back to the ground, panting and looking worse than ever.

  “That’s…all I can do…” he groaned. “Sorry, I wanted to…”

  Charlemagne found it rather fitting that the gorilla never managed to finish his last sentence, the pragmatic rooster noting that Francois had died exactly how he had lived, running his mouth. Charlemagne waited until he was certain that the gorilla had perished before moving on to the first item on his recently updated agenda: eating all five baguettes in one sitting, even though they didn’t taste quite as good as he remembered.

  That done, he then moved on to his next priority: honoring Francois the only way that he knew how. This task took him quite a while, because the gorilla was enormous.