Bunty couldn’t help but feel surprised when no lizardmen came looking for him. Screams and screeches continued to sound from the pit while he hid in the trees a hundred feet away, but the approaching footsteps never approached. Had the monsters finally come to their senses and adopted caution? They appeared to care about one another, though. Bunty doubted they’d let their tribe members die in the pit. He waited fifteen minutes before heading back to the trap.

The screeches and squawks had gotten weaker. The monsters had either tired themselves out, or blood loss had pushed them to the brink of unconsciousness. Bunty crept around the little clearing of bushes, sticking to the treeline. The trunks provided sufficient cover, but he realised it wasn’t necessary after a couple of minutes. No lizardman reinforcements were waiting for him. In fact, the cries and thumping of feet were heading away from him towards the settlement. The noises coming from there were much louder. It sounded as if a fight had broken out.

Confused by the unexpected turn, Bunty peeked into the pit. The female from the first pair was still alive. Her cries had gotten weak and lost volume. One of the latter group’s males had missed the stakes, but it had two limbs bending the wrong way. The others had died. Bunty didn’t see the second female, though. Her friend had pulled her into the pit, and she should’ve been among the corpses.

Bunty took a step back, axe at the ready. She could be stalking him through the bushes. The beasts had proven their excellent camouflaging abilities, and blinding speed when attacking prey. When the tarp by Bunty’s foot shifted, his back went stiff. He swung the axe at his right foot without looking and felt it make contact. A soft hiss sounded before a heavyweight barrelled into his side. The female lizardman had used the muddy, leaf-coloured tarp to hide her presence.

After landing on his front, Bunty decided not to stand straight up and rolled towards the bushes instead. A thundering heartbeat later, a slender, clawed foot slashed the ground where he’d fallen, leaving deep grooves in the soil. The lizardman must have left her spear in the pit. Why else would she rely on her natural weapons?

Bunty expected her to run for help, but she snarled at him and slashed at him again. Instead of dodging, he caught the attack on his axe and pushed, throwing the creature off-balance. He rolled further away from the creature before getting on his feet. Bunty fell into a defensive stance. As expected, the female lizardman had a speed advantage. He had better range and battle instinct, though, so he didn’t worry.

The lizardman paused when Bunty changed his stance. He angled his body, so his axe-wielding right arm faced her. Meanwhile, he kept his left-hand hidden from the beast and summoned the fountain pen. A deep groan sounded from within the pit—the spirit had been waiting for Bunty deep in his prey’s chest. Both he and his opponent ignored the desperate squawks that followed. The female advanced on Bunty while he twirled the axe. He had a risky move in mind but was confident it would end the fight quickly.

Baba always said that throwing or dropping one’s primary weapon is a suicidal move during combat. Bunty agreed, but the axe wouldn’t stay his favoured tool for long. As soon as the lizardman ran at him, zigzagging through the bushes, he threw the axe at her. It flew towards where she was moving, and the beast threw up an arm to deflect the attack. The axe head cut deep into her forearm but didn’t leave a fatal wound. As expected, she didn’t slow her advance, swinging at Bunty with her right arm. He splashed her eyes and open, toothy mouth with ink, before ducking under the attack.

The lizardman stumbled through where Bunty had been standing, coughing. Ink must have gone down her throat. The creature’s foot caught in the bushes, and the uncontrolled momentum resulted in the beast landing on her face. Bunty was on her back seconds later, stabbing his pen into her neck. The nib pierced it without issue, and unusually cool blood flowed from the wound, soaking his hand. He stabbed her a couple more times, ensuring she wouldn’t recover from the attack.

Bunty stood up from the little skirmish panting. He rolled the lizardman onto her front with his foot. She clutched her neck, gasping for air. Only a creature or spirit with healing abilities could save her now. Bunty collected his axe and looked down the pit to ensure none of his prey would make it out. Once satisfied, he jogged towards the village. The squawks and screeches had gotten louder, and Bunty couldn’t wait to find out what was going on.

The path to the village appeared devoid of life. All the critters Bunty had spotted the night before had left tracks heading away from the lizardmen’s new home. Was it internal strife? The chances of a monster attacking them were low. If something powerful enough to take on an entire village roamed the woods, the rodents wouldn’t be so careless. They had appeared blissfully unaware of everything but their food.

Bunty heard metal clashing metal as he approached the settlement. He slowed down on spotting the knee-high stone border. They must have built it after his passing. Lights flashed beyond it, momentarily illuminating speeding scaled and feathery figures. It was still mostly dark in the little clearing, so Bunty snuck up to the edge to get a clear picture.

It wasn’t an internal strife. A party of Climbers in DeLawney colours were fighting the lizardmen. That’s why the beasts had ignored their comrades screaming for help. They had to deal with a bigger threat. A dozen reptiles lay on the ground dead or crippled. They had missing limbs or deep lacerations that leaked and turned the formerly dry soil muddy. It wasn’t just the beasts that had suffered casualty though. Of the seven Climbers, two were motionless, and one sat clutching the spear sticking out of his abdomen. His screams merged with the squawks, screeches and coos, blending into a mad cacophony.

The DeLawney house didn’t have the most stellar of reputations. Bunty wasn’t looking forward to dealing with them once he reached the fifth floor. They controlled the local resources and most of the known gates. Apparently, any climber now allied with them had to pay a tax if they wanted to ascend to the following interval. Bunty especially disliked them for their close relationships with the Anson household.

Of the four Climbers that continued to fight, two were male and the rest female. One of the women didn’t wear the recognisable red and black crest of two interlocking shields. Unlike the others, her wide eyes frantically scanned the surroundings probably looking for an exit. Bunty watched silently, trying to figure out the party dynamic as her arrow missed a sling-wielding lizardman. She was much too well dressed to be a porter. Why was she with the party?

When another Climber fell, the remaining party fell back against a hut, tightening their formation around the injured party member. It didn’t make any sense. The lizardmen had strength and speed but no discipline. Bunty couldn’t figure out why a proper group was struggling against them. The two people in front had upgraded spirits. One used a shield that occasionally sent out a repulsive force staggering anyone that charged at them. The other had a large-armoured feline next to them—most likely a summon specialised in defence. Their brand-new, high-end equipment hadn't helped much either.

Bunty got his answer following another clash between the still-fighting trio and the lizardmen. The shield-bearer pushed back the four lizardmen that came rushing at him. Three of them had overcommitted to their assault and found themselves thrown onto their bottoms. The feline spirit and his spear-wielding master jumped on the opportunity to take them out. He skewered one through the abdomen before hopping back behind the vanguard. Meanwhile, his spirit mauled the other two. The former's unstable footwork gave away his fatigue. Then a golden light blossomed from the lizardmen's backing. It washed through the settlement, hugging every bipedal reptile along the way. Of the three felled beasts, two stood back up. Then a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky, striking the armoured cat. It hissed jumping backwards, and its master's skin got more pallid.

Bunty's heart dropped. It wasn't the DeLawney party's plight that disheartened him, but the shaman's powerset. Any Core it produced would, most likely, not have the best compatibility with the fountain pen. At the same time, it would be as valuable as Eirkh's. Bunty considered leaving or hiding out until the Climbers all fell—he had no interest in saving the Anson family's allies, but then he looked at the lone woman's face. He got the vibe that she had no interest in being there. It was rare for a member of the nobility to not flash their house colours. Had she been forced along on the hunt? Bunty knew that his conscience wouldn't forgive him if he let her die too. If she was someone important or of wealth, perhaps he'd find benefactor while at it.

The last of the lizardmen joined the fight, probably planning on rushing the Climbers. The beasts were playing safe and would undoubtedly win a war of attrition thanks to the shaman. Fortunately for Bunty, they left him alone. The hunched, staff-wielding reptile stood far behind the tribe with a smug look on his face. The fools weren't expecting an opportunistic individual like him. So, Bunty snuck around the settlements exterior, making a beeline for the shaman.

The glowing staff had come to life and had two little spheres revolving around the ornamental top. One glowed with a warm golden light. The other had tiny strands of lightning crackling around it. Bunty knew better than to greed for the staff. It was no more than a conduit for the beast's power. Age had developed the shaman's Core and given him abilities. The stick helped him focus and served as a trap. The young and ignorant would try to steal it instead of challenging him. That's what Bunty had read, at least.

Baba often warned his students never to underestimate a humanoid beast's martial abilities. Just because they stuck to the backlines didn't mean a shaman or spirit caller didn't know how to fight. Their age had taught them how to weave magic into their martial abilities, making them extra dangerous. So, Bunty approached the shaman from the rear, holding his axe in his right hand and his spirit in the other. A breathing exercise helped him stay calm as he snuck up on the lizardman. He worried his attack wouldn't be as easy as it seemed. There had to be a guard or pet waiting to jump him.

It was easy.

The lizardmen attacked the Climbers all at once. Bunty couldn't discern their fate from where he stood but going by the sounds. It wasn't good. He couldn't have helped them even if he wanted to. A monstrous shock wave pulsed outwards from the shield-wielder, throwing the reptilian beasts around like rag dolls. Instead of healing his people, the shaman took the opportunity to release a bolt of lightning. It shot forwards before breaking apart and dancing towards every bit of metal, hitting friend and foe alike. Fortunately, Bunty was behind the attack, and it ignored him. He ran in and brought the axe down on the shaman's head with a one-handed swing. For good measure, he planted the fountain pen in the monster's neck too.

It came as no surprise when the shaman crumbled like a house of cards. Before turning towards the other lizardmen, Bunty harvested the Core. Light flowed from the beast and swirled over his right-hand, solidifying into a golden-blue sphere. The Core was as big and bright as Eirkh’s. Bunty suspected it would get him a brilliant price or trade—he didn’t have much hope of it having decent compatibility with the fountain pen. Neither healing nor lightning went with its general theme.