The sight that greeted Daimen after he pushed through the bushes was one that left him speechless. He couldn't say he should have been surprised, considering he'd caught a vague picture of what was happening in his perception. But his eyes gave more detailed information than his other senses.

  Two creatures battled in the newly made artificial clearing. One was a reptilian creature with an elongated neck and a body full of violet scales. The other creature was one Daimen was recently made familiar with, a squirrel-like creature with spiked fur, the same species as the one he'd killed the previous day for dinner.

  Pinkie hissed and whipped her face away as the creature spat out corrosive liquid onto her. It missed her face, but splashed onto her body, visibly turning her perfect gleaming scales into sludge that dribbled off her body.

  It seemed not to matter, at least to Pinkie—Daimen was ready to spear that creature here and be done with it. She lunged a moment later in response, elongated stretching forward as her maw clamped down on the squirrel with deadly looking fangs, the creature releasing a painful roar that sent leaves shaking.

  The most surprising thing in all of this was that the Squirrel creature was a Peak foundation realm monster, by the tell of its flickering aura. While Pinkie, a mid foundation realm beast, who'd just been born half a year ago, was visibly winning.

  Admittedly, she had multiple spots on her body where scales were missing, courtesy of the creature she was engaged against. But as her fangs clamped down on the monster, sinking easily through its protective fur and into its flesh, Daimen saw nothing but fear in the little monster's eyes.

  By some miracle, it freed itself, though not without losing a limb. In Daimen’s book, that was as good as a death sentence.

  Pinkie lunged forward again, and the creature's missing leg showed its absence as it moved to dodge. Her roar was cut short as, rather than grab hold of its body as she'd done earlier, the reptilian beast's jaws closed down on its head, stopping it from spewing any more of its corrosive liquid.

  Pinkie crushed the skull a moment later, producing a loud, audible crunch that echoed through the surrounding area.

  She pressed down with her claws, which dripped with blood from previous attacks, and pulled. The dead squirrel’s head came off with a wet squelch, a sound that made Daimen grimace.

  The reptilian creature didn't seem affected by the unsettling sound. Rather, she pulled back her jaws, raising her reptilian face into the skies, and hissed loudly.

  Daimen decided then and there that it was time to reveal himself.

  He walked through the bush, eyes trained on Pinkie as she began licking her wounds, hissing as she did so.

  Somebody jumped down from a tree. “Marvelous, don't you think?” Daskar said, a bright gleam Daimen did not like shining through his eyes. “A find of the ages. Two planets full of wealth should get her off your hands, don't you agree?”

  Rather than respond to the offer, Daimen asked the question plaguing his mind. “How? When?”

  “Ahh, I see what has made you speechless,” Daskar nodded with a smile. “The beast has always been able to fight, she was simply held back from doing so by your constant need to protect her.”

  “I never—”

  “She says otherwise.”

  Daimen blinked. “How can you tell? She's a Mid Foundation realm creature. She shouldn't be able to talk.”

  “You forget that I am a being of the mind,” he tapped his head. “I can read her thoughts.”

  “Her thoughts?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “It is a very jumbled thing and difficult to process, but process I can.”

  Daimen looked between them, his eyes moving from the reptilian creature to the demon that stood beside her. “What is she saying now?”

  “She says you should close your mouth.”

  He realized instantly that his mouth had been left open ever since the beginning of the fight, and snapped it shut, though not before sending both of them a scathing glare.

  “Is she okay?” He nodded towards her now blemished scales and the many holes marring its surface.

  “She says she will be, after she takes what she wants.”

  “Which is?”

  Right then, Pinkie turned and bit into the stomach of the dead creature lying at her feet. With a tug, she tore off its skin, which was now weakened after the departure of life. Different things poured out from the corpse' stomach, a lot of which made Daimen grimace in disgust. But one thing drew his attention; a little ball, like a crystal, which should have been glossy smooth but was stained with the purple liquid and meaty substance that should have stayed within the monster's belly.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  A core.

  Pinkie licked its surface, cleaning off the blood and viscera to reveal writhing black essence beneath the surface of the crystal ball.

  Before Daimen could call out to her to maintain caution, she snapped up the ball in a gulp, swallowing it down her gullet in an instant… and then she belched.

  Daimen sighed and palmed his face. “What did she just do?”

  “Eat, of course,” Daskar responded. “That is how all monsters and beasts grow. They feast on the flesh and core of their kin, or mortals.”

  “Will she be alright?”

  “You ask that question too often,” he smirked at Daimen. “She says she will be okay, she just needs some time to digest her meal.”

  Daimen shook his head. “That is time we do not have. If her fight could draw me from more than a mile away, it can surely draw others. We should leave. Will her digestive process be interrupted if she moves?”

  “She says no.”

  “Good. We're leaving now.”

  “Pinkie says she wants more squirrel meat.”

  “She can hunt for herself if that's what she wants.”

  Daskar sighed and then paused. “Pinkie says you're an idiot.”

  “I'm pretty sure that's just you.”

  “...maybe.”

  ***

  They returned back to the hideout, where Daimen made breakfast from the dead squirrel meat Pinkie had killed. He added a few fish from the one left over pre-evolution. After that, they waited for Pinkie to digest her meal, and then they cleaned up their surroundings, traveled back to the lake to wash off, and then they were off on their journey to the tribe It’Yixil.

  They could have gone straight east from the beginning, but that would put them on the crosshairs of the other demons searching for them. So rather than that, they circled northeast, following the deep dense forest until they emerged at the edge of a cleared path.

  Along the way, Daimen and Daskar assisted Pinkie in tracking down the squirrel creatures—her new favorite delicacy—for her to battle, a battle which, for some reason, gave her a cough which grew with the squirrels she fought and the cores she swallowed. Daimen was not aware beast could develop a cold, but since she was still a foundation realm creature, it was understandable that she would be susceptible to the natural illnesses of the world.

  They gave her time to rest, a chunk of which took out of their travel time, unfortunately giving anything that was chasing them time to catch up. However Daimen had to accept that it couldn't be helped.

  He elected to carry her, but for some reason, the beast refused any help, using Daskar to convey that she would rather walk by herself.

  And although Daimen was against it, he didn't push. Instead, he grabbed hold of his spear and went scouting.

  Soon, they were back on their journey, moving to cross the earthen road when the sound of wheels turning reached their ears.

  Daimen and Daskar shared a look, and then as one they retreated back into the forest, ignoring Pinkie's protest as he carried Pinkie in his arms.

  When they were sure they were a fair distance away from the road, they set the reptilian creature down and backtracked towards the road.

  Any information about this place was something they couldn't miss, whether it was safe or not.

  They arrived just as the vehicle came into sight. Daimen expected a gaudy thing, filled with encrusted diamonds and glittering colors, like the vehicles of nobles or beings of immense wealth. Instead, what he saw as they crouched just beyond the tree line was a long train of wooden carts, plain with an open top.

  A horse-like creature, with two horns on the nose like a rhino, a plate-covered body, dim glowing red eyes, and legs with protruding claws, pulled the wooden constructs. And rather than neigh like a horse should, the creature released something closely resembling a beastly snarl, revealing rows and rows of sharp, deadly teeth.

  Daimen glanced at Daskar to see his take on this, but the man's eyes were trained at the back of the cart, where Daimen hadn't noticed a long train of chained prisoners was being pulled, each person linked by a chain that coiled around their arms and feet.

  “Escaped prisoners,” Daskar said, unprompted.

  “What?”

  “These are captured prisoners, from a place called Lese. They were recaptured after they made a play for freedom.”

  Daimen frowned, and then he turned his eyes back to them, observing with intent now. He caught the signs he'd missed the first time; the tattered robes stained with dirt and muck, yet still holding the emblem of house Verrille, even though it was a little bit covered in dirt.

  “From the look on your face, I take it you are aware of what place I speak of. You hail from there, do you not?”

  “You can say that.”

  “I do not understand. Are these your people, or not?”

  Daimen grimaced. “It's complicated.”

  He looked around, noting the guards trailing alongside the cart. Just like when he'd encountered Daskar, this convoy also had a line of white-robed demons, albeit Spirit lords, unlike the last ones. Their eyes were closed, which explained the distant look on the prisoners' faces.

  Daskar had been fortunate to be lucid when he'd been transported. These ones were not.

  Half the number of armored guards followed the train, each bringing up the front and rear of the convoy, decked in powerful gear and weapons.

  “Why are the armored ones smaller than the white devourers?” Daimen asked. “Shouldn't it be equal numbers, since they're protecting more than double their entire numbers?”

  “The allayers are trained to subdue minds and put them to sleep, in a dream state,” he nodded at the prisoners. “Like the ones you see here. The armored guards are simply there to provide protection against anything that might interrupt their work.”

  “Like monsters… and us.”

  “Come again?”

  Daimen turned to his demon companion and forced out a smile. “We're going to rescue them.”

  “I know you lack your complete brain cells, and so are limited in how much you can think and process, but this beats your lowest. Do you see those numbers, or are you blind alongside foolish?”

  “It's not like you're going to be handling them all, just the white robed allayers... whatever. I'll take care of the armored ones.”

  “Oh, so easy then. Tell us, Invincible human, how do you plan on dealing with fifteen armored guards?”

  “With luck.”

  “Luck?”

  “Yes,” Daimen smiled. “Luck is one our side... well, my side. But since we're together, it's on both our sides.”

  “You speak gibberish, human,” Daskar said, seeming reverting back to his odd way of speaking.

  Daimen only smiled. “You'll see.”

  "Will your luck account for the Spirit King in their midst?"

  "Wait what?!"