A pile of blood wolf corpses fell out of the glowing gem of a storage ring. There were at least two or three dozen bodies stacked on the edge of the lake, waiting to be roughly processed. Next to it, 7 of the mercenaries crouched down and started their work. First, they skinned the animals, followed by severing the heads – if this had not already been done during the fight – and finally removing the intestines. Since each and every one of them was very accustomed to this kind of work, progress was relatively quick. Only one of them took longer.
Romeo sat on the right side of the group and looked at his short sword. It was a little longer than his forearm and wider than the iron sword that stayed in its sheath the whole time. The short sword was covered in blood now and looked rather greasy. Romeo kept on loosening his grip and then tightening it again before repositioning the cutting edge and precisely detaching the rest of the fur from the muscle tissue. From time to time the boy used his hands to make the process of skinning easier, which was why the grip of his weapon was not spared from the blood.
Those who watched him could only shake their heads without saying anything. Even if their latest addition had his quirks, he did his job very carefully. They worried a little about what he must have experienced before, but didn't ask. After all, there were only a few who liked to talk about their past. Especially in such dire times.
Deadly clashes with the Yinnians were rising in number with each passing month and the border areas became more and more dangerous. Most people left their homes and villages near the border to move further inland. However, this migration caused problems for other cities and villages, which had to fight with overcrowding and resource scarcity. For this reason, an edict by the king stipulated that guilds and independent armies would have to take care of the security of the border.
And so did the Beaver mercenary guild, which had dedicated itself to the northernmost part of the border area. Since their headquarters – where the training of their members took place – was stationed in the north, the northern area was quite convenient for them. Additionally, they had scouted their part of the borderlands even before the king's edict. That was one of the reasons most of the population living in the north had already recognized them as a people's army. The other one was because of the female mercenaries. Every single one of them was strong in mind and body and often also in magic. They could give birth to very healthy and promising offspring even without using the black water of the capital city lying far in the south.
"Zosan, as far as Jasper could make it out, a clearing is located nearby. We can camp there and rest for a few days to determine the next quadrant of the forest we are going to explore."
The group leader listened to the younger member before crossing his arms over his chest again.
"A clearing is too dangerous. We'd rather stay here by the water."
"That's exactly what we thought at the beginning."
Another voice intervened and the one named Jasper slowly moved towards the two men. His walk was quiet, his steps wide, but leisurely. The hands lay loosely over his lower back, while a benevolent smile was reflected on the narrow face. A soft breeze lifted his long dark hair ever so slightly and mixed it up here and there. The wide coat with the dark fur collar gave him something noble, even if Jasper was definitely not a noble person.
"Explain." Zosan said, turning to the young man who stopped half a meter in front of him. "The clearing has a natural defence against ghosts and wild animals. It appears to be the remains of an old magical pact that was made there. This clearing is the safest place in the whole forest."
Jasper said this with a firmness that surprised even Zosan. A wrinkle formed on the older man's forehead, who apparently had to think about how they wanted to proceed. However, he already knew that he would definitely choose the clearing. Jasper's knowledge of magic, and especially that which required a pact or contract, was deep and far-reaching. He trusted the young man's knowledge more than that of any old priests.
"Ok, then we'll go to this clearing. Men, get ready, we're leaving! Make sure to keep the fur and meat separate. Please deposit the intestines in the blood storage rings and never use the silver ones."
"We know boss!"
"It's not even the first time!" The reply came promptly and made Zosan grin. He took part in the preparations with quick movements before the group set off from the lake towards the clearing.
Romeo, meanwhile, had cleaned his short sword. It wasn't shiny because the blade was made of relatively simple steel, but it had lost the pungent smell of viscous and impure blood. It was back in its scabbard that was attached to his belt on the left. His narrow, light eyebrows rose slightly as his hands closed the buckle that secured the blade.
Something in him was far more excited than usual. His heart had to go through an arduous trial and so far, nothing had been a big challenge. But now, the closer they got to this clearing, the more this uncertainty enveloped him. He wouldn't mind turning around now and running back to the lake, yet his legs never stopped, and his body never turned away from their destination.
They kept advancing until the cones of light spread out again, enlarged and soon revealed a large area of grass that was almost glittering in the light of the stars.
The indescribable feeling reached its climax and Romeo could think of nothing more than the word "fate".