Redmane did not find himself immediately surrounded by Sicari.

  A good sign. It meant the Castigator’s Lorica was working.

  Even so, it would be wise to move with stealth. Hold on to the advantage for as long as possible.

  He stared down at the encampment of the Numantian legion for a while, considering his next move.

  The time for clearing Zones was past. He should claim the Seals as quickly as possible, and any Gruu burrows he came across on the way. The enemy was here in force. Doing so would give him the best chance of being the prevailing force.

  That last thought made his brows draw together.

  The enemy was here in force.

  But why?

  They should think him defeated.

  Perhaps something else was going on.

  Redmane would return to his own territory first. If he was close enough to Taracon to see it, that meant he was at the southwestern edge of the continent. Beroh Keep would be the closest friendly place. Ser Velibor and Ser Grimgarl would be there, as the two of them opted to stay behind rather than attend the little conference which landed most of his Faction in another world for the time being.

  Flora would also be there. Which would be well, because he needed Gnosis. She would know how the group in Astia fared as well. And also because she was just pleasant to be around.

  She made him feel something he couldn’t describe.

  He left a few small spawn in this spot, since he would certainly like to return to this site later, and brought forth the powerful wings of the Manticore. Because it would be a lengthy flight.

  Redmane battled the wind and climbed until he was as high as the clouds. And then he went higher. He flew throughout the rest of the day and night, and on the morning of the next day he spied the alpine forests of Asgoph, and a certain dark castle standing atop a mighty hill. Flora’s enchanted trees and other greenery surrounded Beroh Keep, making it easier to spot.

  When he was close enough to the keep, he angled his wings to descend upon it. But when he drew closer, he noticed something peculiar.

  Ser Velibor and Ser Grimgarl stood on the drawbridge, facing a procession of beastmen.

  It looked as though they were attempting to communicate.

  His view improved the closer he came. There were a dozen beastmen, Mongrels by the look of them. They had goat-like horned heads, the coat, tail and claws of wolves, with cloven feet. Their leader stood at the front of the group, towering over Ser Velibor and Ser Grimgarl, who were both a little pale at the sight of him.

  —

  Venridor Ironhorn

  Monster Type: Beast Lord

  Level 133

  —

  Beast Lord. That was a new one.

  The knights backpedaled, wide-eyed, when Redmane landed in front of them, facing Venridor Ironhorn.

  “Oh thank goodness,” Ser Grimgarl muttered.

  The Beast Lord glared down at Redmane, who glared right back at him.

  “Usually I’m the one coming to fight your kind,” said Redmane. “Not the other way round.”

  A deep growl rumbled at the base of Venridor’s throat.

  “The fight comes to you now, Redmane,” said the Beast Lord. And to Redmane’s surprise, he could understand what Venridor was saying. Evidently this breed of beastman was intelligent enough to communicate. “The are watching for you. They search for you and your clan. They know this is your territory. They come, soon.”

  Redmane’s eyebrow rose. “So you come to warn us?”

  The Beast Lord let out a roar that made Ser Velibor and Ser Grimgarl and the sentries at the gatehouse behind them flinch. Redmane did not flinch, though the force of it blew his hair back slightly.

  “I come to get them off our land. They come for you next. You help us, or they kill you too.”

  Redmane stared at the Beast Lord.

  And then he smiled.

  “We have an accord,” he said, and offered his hand.

  Venridor Ironhorn canted his head curiously at the offered hand. Inspecting it, as if searching his memory for what it meant. When it dawned on him, he smacked his great paw into Redmane’s and shook it.

  And his third eye burned like a little sun.

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

  There was a flash.

  He sat upon a great golden throne, lounging in the manner of a lion in the midday sun, tapping his claw against its arm rest, his chin rested on his other fist. Flora sat at his side, dressed in fine silks and bedecked in jewelry. Redmane found himself similarly clad in the trappings of wealth.

  Their seats overlooked a massive coliseum. Tens of thousands of people filled its seats, roaring their approval of the violence taking place below.

  Beastmen battling beastmen, for the favor of their ruler. They had come from every world in his domain.

  Flash.

  Ser Velibor and Ser Grimgarl watched this exchange with open surprise on their faces.

  “You understand this bestial speech?” said Velibor.

  “Did we just shake hands with a Monster?” said Grimgarl.

  Redmane blinked, shook his head. Momentarily disoriented by the place his third eye had taken him. It took him a moment to understand the questions he’d been asked.

  “Yes, and yes.”

  Redmane turned to face the two knights. “There is much to explain and little time. Since the two of you are still standing, I assume you haven’t been visited by a group of Sicari.”

  “A group of what?” said Ser Grimgarl.

  “Good. We’re going to help these beastmen hold their territory against a Numantian Legion.”

  “We’re going to do what?!” said Ser Velibor.

  “They’re on our side now. Our faction is anathema. I dreaded your fortunes, to be truthful. After what happened at the Deepwell Monastery, I presumed they would come for the territory of House Redmane. But it seems they have more pressing issues to attend to, so let’s keep it that way for as long as we’re able to.”

  The knights had many questions.

  Redmane did his best to answer them all. But there were other things to attend to as well.

  It would be unwise to let Venridor and his beastmen into the keep, so he bid them to wait them outside. The smallfolk were likely to be anxious enough already without the sight of monsters in their midst.

  The first order of business was an emergency feast on the supply of Magister’s Delight.

  Then he created a few spawn.

  Vang first, to whom he gave Voice of the Beastlord so he could act as a translator between Venridor and the knights.

  And then Zorn, Nuk and Throk, who received Naturalborn of the Abyss before he raided the larder and loaded the quartet down with provisions for the group stranded in Astia.

  He went light on Corpus on all of them, for he himself was light on Corpus.

  Corpus: 5512

  After taking care of all of that, and setting his spawn and Imbued comrades into motion, he ate some more Magister’s Delight.

  Gnosis: 1516

  While he did that, it was time to consult the map.

  Three locations interested him. Skyrend Peaks. Erdu Forest. The Aridorn Wastes.

  The first two were the closest. Due west, beyond Mount Merkuur, Erdu Forest filled the valley between the mountains and the sea. It would take time to search by air, but at least Redmane had some idea of what to look for now.

  The mountain range which Merkuur belonged to continued to curve in a northwesterly direction until reaching its highest and densest volume near the coastline. This was where Redmane found the Skyrend Peaks. A considerably smaller Zone, albeit in a less convenient place.

  And then there were the Aridorn Wastes. They lay on the opposite corner of the map, in the barren patch of desert and tundra on the southeast side of Volos, opposite Taracon. There were mountains here, but they were squat and eroded by the searing wind. One such cluster of them sheltered what appeared to be the remains of a city.

  Redmane bit another Magister’s Delight in half, chewed while staring down at the map, and made his travel plan.

  Erdu Forest first.

  Then Skyrend.

  Then Aridorn.

  All in rapid succession, not including side trips to any Gruu burrows he may come across on the journey.

  Numantia had flipped the game board.

  The monsters were on his side now. But perhaps it had always been that way, and he hadn’t been seeing things correctly.

  Perhaps these changes in the Blight directly resulted from the Seals breaking, in the same manner his consumption of the flesh of the Sicari caused the Blight in the first place.

  It made him wonder where he ended and everyone else in this world began. Or if there was a difference. Perhaps it was all one consciousness, killing and consuming and birthing itself forever.

  Weighty thoughts. But there was no time for philosophy. He’d done what he came to do here, so it was time to fly.

  Redmane took wing with no further delay, having already given out instructions to his people. He did so without seeing Flora, as he had a feeling he’d have dawdled.

  He journeyed west on the high currents, and as he came over the top of Mount Merkuur fortune favored him. He sensed a Gruu burrow quite close, recessed in a cave between two jagged peaks.

  Its Grandmother carried the memory of Kraal the Devourer battling Belskaya and Danesti on the mountainside, climbing to the rock with insectoid legs ending in tips like spears, which he used to find purchase in the stone and stab the offending warriors. The memory lived in what used to be one such appendage.

  Corpus: 16,567

  Might +1

  Grace +1

  Fortitude +1

  Armor +10

  Now that he knew what to do, his delve into the burrow was quick. By the time he’d taken wing again, invigorated and empowered, there was still plenty of daylight with which to traverse the mountains to the forest beyond them.

  And he needed it.

  Erdu Forest was vast indeed, now that he saw it with his own eyes. A crescent of deep dark green, stretching from south to north between the mountains and the coastline for as far as Redmane could see in either direction.

  You have entered Zone: Erdu Forest

  Tasks:

  Slay Vargath the Great Boar

  Slay Gromm, Troll Chieftan

  Slay King Edd

  Tasks Completed: 1/3

  One Task was complete already. Interesting.

  Either someone left Erdu Forest without finishing the job, or there were Imbued hunting here.

  [Imbued] marked as Prey

  They were here.

  Four of them, to the north. Not far.

  Redmane glided down closer to the canopies of the trees, and cloaked himself with Astral Stalker.

  His tracking brought him right to them. At the moment they sat around their campsite, having a snack, discussing their hunting plans.

  In Numantian.

  Redmane’s eyebrows rose. He could understand their conversation. A hidden perk of Voice of the Beastlord, he supposed.

  These were Numantians then. Or Imbued from another colony world. Their gear and clothing looked foreign enough. Though they still favored blue, silver and white, as the Imbued of Volos had a tendency to do. Redmane noted several powerful items amidst their gear. And not one of the four was lower than level 150.

  Astral Stalker made him incorporeal. He hovered above and behind the group, considering what to do with them while they talked.

  It was possible they were here to watch over the Seal of the Gryphon. Perhaps the Numantians had learned of the seals.

  If so, their deaths would be conspicuous. And they would know about them immediately, thanks to the System’s map.

  He could bypass them completely and carry on to the Seal, and either deal with them afterward or simply leave.

  But that would leave the monsters here at their mercy. And given the change in circumstances, monsters were now potential allies.

  Redmane’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  Yes. He’d go and speak to them.

  It would be an awful shame if the denizens of Erdu Forest attacked the Imbued as one. And if there happened to be one extra monster, who would notice?

  PATREON