Grub did not notice when the night truly ended. The forest did not brighten all at once and the darkness did not retreat like a curtain being pulled away. Instead it thinned gradually, almost reluctantly, until the shapes around him began to regain definition. The black silhouettes of trunks became solid bark again. The ground beneath the clearing shifted from shadow to damp brown soil. High above, the canopy caught the first dull hints of grey morning light.

  The insects were the first to feel the change into the bright lights of the day.

  Their layered chorus from the night slowly faded as one species after another fell silent. What replaced them was a different rhythm entirely—the quiet rustle of waking birds shifting in branches, the soft movement of smaller animals beginning their morning routines. Water still dripped steadily from leaves left heavy by last night’s rain, and every now and then a larger drop would fall from a higher branch and strike the ground with a dull tap.

  Grub had not slept. Not truly, at least.

  Several times during the long hours of darkness he had allowed his eyes to close, but never for more than a handful of breaths at a time. Each time exhaustion threatened to drag him deeper he forced himself awake again. The pain helped with that. His ribs had stiffened badly from remaining in one position for so long, and the claw marks along his side throbbed with a slow, persistent pulse that spread through his chest each time he shifted even slightly. The bandaged burn along his calf had tightened during the night as well, and twice he had been forced to slowly stretch the muscle beneath the cover of leaves to prevent it from locking entirely.

  Even so, he had not moved from his position. He had managed to keep nearly perfectly still.

  Across the clearing, the lizard remained where it had settled hours earlier. Its back still rested against the trunk, its blade still lay within reach of its hand, and its tail had curled closer to its body during the night. Grub had watched the rise and fall of its chest for hours, counting the rhythm of its breathing and measuring the pauses between each inhale.

  Even now he was not completely certain the creature had truly slept either. It could have simply been resting and relaxing. Waiting for something Grub didn’t know about. The first true beam of morning light finally reached the clearing.

  A pale shaft slipped between two branches high overhead and stretched across the ground until it touched the trunk where the lizard rested. The scales along its neck caught the light faintly, revealing dull green tones broken by darker patterns that ran down the sides of its jaw and along its throat. Under the clear light of morning, the creature looked somewhat majestic. Though perhaps that was Grub’s own excitement over the discovery of intelligent life clouded his judgement.,

  The creature stirred as the daylight seemed to wake it up. The lizard’s body slowly began to move. One claw flexed first. Then its eyes opened halfway, revealing narrow vertical pupils that contracted slowly as the light grew stronger. For several seconds it did nothing else. Its head remained perfectly still as it listened to the forest around it.

  Grub pressed himself slightly deeper into the hollow behind the fallen trunk. Even breathing requires careful control now. The lizard reached for its weapon first.

  Its claws closed around the curved blade with practiced ease, lifting it from the ground in one smooth motion. Only after securing the weapon did the creature push itself fully upright and stretched slightly, rolling its shoulders and flexing its arms as though loosening muscles that had stiffened overnight.

  Its tail extended behind it, swaying once before settling into its usual balanced position. Then the creature began dismantling the shelter it had built the night before. The dark sheet of material stretched between branches was folded with swift movements and stowed back into its pack. After that, it brushed leaves and debris across the cleared patch of soil, erasing the visible signs of where it had rested. Grub slowly and carefully took out his notebook and wrote what he noticed about how the lizard’s morning went. When the lizard finished erasing its tracks, the clearing looked nearly untouched.

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  Grub jotted down how carefully the lizard made sure it left no tracks. It was careful and disciplined, worthy of a soldier.

  It was prepared for someone else to pass through later without realizing the place had been used. The creature removed the same small device from its pouch and pressed the ridged surface once more.

  It spoke to the device once again.

  The harsh language rolled from its throat in clipped bursts, the sounds sharp and layered. In the quiet of the early morning forest the voice carried more clearly than it had the night before. Grub leaned slightly forward in his concealment, committing the cadence to memory. After several seconds the device crackled.

  Another voice answered. The exchange was shorter this time, only a few brief phrases before the creature tucked the device away again. It tightened the strap across its chest afterward and scanned the clearing one final time.

  Then it began moving—heading Northwest like it had been doing. Grub remained still for several breaths after the lizard disappeared between the trees. Only when he was certain enough distance had formed did he shift carefully from his hiding place. As soon as he stood he felt a jolt of pain. His ribs flared sharply as he straightened. His injured leg trembled once when weight returned to it. He just pushed past it.

  The clearing still held faint impressions where the lizard had moved earlier. The soil had begun drying slightly, but the prints remained clear enough to confirm direction.

  Grub followed them without stepping in them. He carefully avoided sticks and twigs that may give his location away. The forest ahead was quieter now in the early morning light. Birds had begun moving through the canopy, and small animals rustled occasionally through the undergrowth as the day fully woke. Grub moved slowly between trunks, keeping the flicker of the lizard’s tail in sight whenever possible.

  He had followed the creature perhaps another hundred paces when it suddenly stopped. The motion was abrupt and unexpected. The lizard froze mid-step. Grub stopped instantly behind a thick tree trunk.

  Shit, did it notice me?

  The creature’s head tilted slightly. Its body lowered a fraction, muscles tightening. Then the weapon left its hand in an instant. The curved blade flew through the air so suddenly that Grub barely had time to understand what had happened. The weapon cut through the branches with a sharp whistle and slammed into the ground less than two arm lengths from where he crouched. Grub’s heart seized.

  For a single frozen moment he believed he had been discovered. His mind moved instantly.

  If the creature had seen him— it would be over.

  Should I run? Or bet my chances in a fight with this thing? Maybe I should just come out and try to be peaceful? Grub’s mind began to spiral as he tried to think of what to do. But he knew that none of those options were good.

  But before he could react further, something small shrieked. A thin, panicked sound burst from the undergrowth beside him. A small animal—something with mottled fur and a narrow snout—twitched violently where the blade had pinned it to the soil. The creature thrashed once, twice, before going still.

  Grub exhaled slowly in a careful breath. The lizard had not seen him. It had seen the animal. All was not lost. So he moved as carefully as he could Grub shifted backward through the brush as silently as possible, putting another tree trunk between himself and the spot where the animal had fallen. From there he watched as the lizard approached.

  This was the closest he had seen the creature yet. Up close the scales were more detailed than he expected. Each plate overlapped the next in tight rows along its neck and arms, dark green fading to nearly black along the edges. Small scars marked several of the scales near its shoulder, evidence of past fights. Its eyes were sharp and bright even in the morning light. The lizard crouched beside the pinned animal and pulled its blade free in one clean motion.

  Then it picked up the small body. Grub watched closely as the creature tilted its head slightly, opened its jaws wide, and swallowed the animal whole in a single gulp. The movement was quick and within seconds the body was gone. The lizard wiped the blade clean against the ground, sheathed it at its hip, and resumed walking as if nothing had happened.

  Grub waited several breaths longer before moving again. His pulse had not fully slowed yet. But the pursuit continued.

  And now, for the first time, he knew exactly what kind of creature he was following.

  ? The Noble Reincanarted Demon King ?

  by BookRusher98