The Stone Forest has no trees.

Not for the first time, Yue’li wonders what genius is behind the naming of this strange wasteland. Other than the monuments of crumbling concrete all around them, there’s nothing green here, let alone leafy.

She drops the rucksack against the base of a monolith and sits in the black sand. In the shade of the massive rectangular stone structure, the sand is cool and soft.

“Keep on the lookout, Mich,” Yue’li hears the Grunt Master say to the ranger of their party. “We can’t let the Wyvern slip away again.”

“Aye,” replies the ranger. “We cannot stop for too long. The winds bring news of blood.”

The ranger looks nearing middle age, with fluffy eyebrows and an even fluffier mustache. Yue'li watches as he climbs up an overturned monument, using outcrops as handholds. Even though the monument has toppled onto its side, the sheer size still takes Mich a while to scale.

Once at the top, he notches an arrow and aims it high above him.

“Let steel be my eyes,” he says and lets it loose.

Yue’li traces the path of the arrow until it is swallowed up by the dirty blue sky.

“Would you like a drink of water?”

Yue'li looks up to see her Grunt Master holding out a waterskin. She shakes her head. “I have my own,” she says, patting the little canister fastened to her belt. “But thanks.”

Her Grunt Master nods. “Suit yourself.” He takes a drink from the waterskin and throws it over to his mage, who Yue’li remembers is called Baragon.

She takes out her own canister to take a sip, noticing how the two young men are sitting a respectable distance away from her.

The three adventurers make a strange party. Yue'li's Grunt Master, Elijah Larmings, seems to be a fighter class as he carries a greatsword at his back, yet he has no shield or any other defense but his armor. In all their fights with monsters so far, he’s been relying solely on Baragon's spells for protection.

“Why do you not have a Monster Tracker?” Yue’li asks. “Or a Tank?” She knows it is not custom for grunts to make conversation with their masters, but the sun is hot and her feet ache. She needs a bit of distraction.

Baragon answers. “We did. He died.”

“Oh,” says Yue’li. “I’m sorry.”

The rest of their time in the monument’s shade is spent in silence.

After a while, Master Larmings gets up. He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts up to the ranger. “How goes it, Mich?”

The ranger appears over the ledge, the sun framing his silhouette. “It’s started to move again," he calls down, "getting close to the edge of the forest.”

“Goddesses be good,” says Master Larmings. “Let’s hurry, then.”

As the sun beats down on her once more, Yue’li fights the urge to unbind her tail from her back. The scales stick to her like tiny hot irons, burning and suffocating her.

So distracted is she by this, that when she steps around a wall of broken stone, taking extra care the rucksack doesn’t get caught on any sharp edges, she misjudges her footing and slips.

Yue'li yelps, falling face-first towards the jagged stone.

A hand darts out and grasps onto her arm. It’s Mich.

“Would you like me to carry that, Mrs. Basilona?” the ranger offers with a sympathetic smile.

“No, no, no,” Yue’li says, politely extracting herself from the man. "This is my job."

"Sure," says Mich. "But it still doesn't make me feel any better seeing you work so hard."

He reaches out again but Yue'li darts out of the way.

“I should’ve been watching where I was going," she says. "It won’t happen again. Promise.” She pulls the bag strings tighter across her shoulder. “There's no need to worry. I can do this, really. ”

Mich's mouth turns down, making his mustache droop.

Master Larming's voice travels from the front of the party. “Let her do her job, Mich. The Guild might cut her pay otherwise.”

They approach a low hillock of loose rocks. Master Larmings tightens the band holding his greatsword and starts to climb. “Focus on the tracks," he says to Mich. "The sooner we hunt down the Wyvern, the sooner you can ask the Grunt for a drink. But not before, you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Mich says with a sideways wink at Yue’li. Then before Yue’li can figure out how to stop her cheeks from flaring, the man has overtaken his leader to stand at the top of the hill.

“It’s getting tired,” Mich says, one finger scratching at the marks in the sand. He picks up a bronze cylinder between his fingers, frowning so deeply his eyebrows meet. “See here, there is sand on both sides of this shell, so it’s been moved recently.”

“Spare us the explanation,” Baragon says, leaning on his staff. “Just lead us to the target.”

Mich places the cylinder back down where he picked it up and takes the spot at the front of the party.

The party follows the Wyvern’s tracks for a few more hours, scaling over hills of sand and weaving through gaps in the stone pillars.

As Yue’li lags behind, she starts feeling lightheaded. Her blood seems ready to turn into steam and even her breaths feel scorched against her lips.

In through the nose… and out the mouth…

In… and out…

The ground has turned into a steady upwards climb. The stone-covered ground merges into gold as the Stone Forest gives way to a mountain of sand. With each yard traveled, the rucksack seems to be growing heavier. The straps dig into Yue'li's shoulders and she's beginning to have thoughts about cutting her tail off.

A strange sensation snaps Yue’li out of her daze. Something foreign is pushing itself into the rucksack. Instinctively, she ducks around, yelling, “Hands off!”

Baragon puts his hands up. “Easy,” he says. “I was just looking for something.” He reaches over Yue’li’s head and takes out an orb dropped from a D-class Air Slime. “I found it.”

“What do you need that for?” Yue’li asks. But instead of answering her, Baragon walks away, studying the orb under the sunlight.

“Interesting,” he mutters to himself. “It looks different during the daytime.”

Someone else reaches into the bag. Yue’li turns but Master Larmings has already taken out an ivory claw.

“A fine kill,” says the party leader as he presents to admire the claw. “With our skills, I’d say we can start setting our sights on a B-class monster.”

Yue’li stares between the two men, her face growing hot as she realizes what they're doing. “You… you don’t have to do this, Master.”

Master Larmings shrugs. “Do what? Adventuring?”

From the front of the party, Mich glances back with a smile. He starts towards Yue’li as well, but the wind shifts at that moment, carrying a pungent odor of sulfur that they can all smell.

The ranger immediately drops to a crouch and holds up a fist. “Everyone stop.”

They do. As quietly as they can, Master Larmings and Baragon flatten themselves as close to the sand as possible. Yue’li lowers to her knees carefully, as not to jostle her rucksack.

Shuffling to the top of the hill, Mich pokes his head out over it. He waves for his party members to join him.

“North-east,” he whispers once everyone is looking over the hill across the sand. “Two hundred steps. Two-fifty at most.”

In the distance, where golden sand stretches towards the horizon, a feathery four-legged beast lies resting on a flat slab of rock. Under the harsh sunlight, its plumes shine red as if on fire.

Master Larmings turns to his mage. “Line-of-sight? Range?”

Baragon shakes his head, a quick side-to-side. “I need at least twenty more steps. Give me sixty seconds, Elijah.”

Master Larmings nods. “I’ll give you seventy. Mich, get ready.”

Yue’li watches in awe as Baragon whispers a spell and with a flash of red from his Crimson Ore, disappears from sight.

The rest of them wait in silence. Yue’li counts along in her head.

Ten seconds…

Twenty seconds…

Thirty…

“Pin it down, Mich,” Master Larmings says. “On my count.”

With a smooth, practiced move, Mich slides an arrow from his quiver and notches it to his raised bow. He props his arm against the sand and after a few breaths, he seems to have been frozen.

Fifty seconds…

Sixty…

Master Larmings holds up a hand. His other is gripped tight on the hilt of his greatsword.

“Shinrund.”

The ore embedded in Mich’s glove starts to glow. Ethereal vines slither out from the light like strands of hair, coiling around the arrow’s silvered tip.

The world stills.

Master Larming starts to lower his hand. "Ready. Three, two..."

Still tied to her back, Yue’li feels her tail twitch.

“Watch out!”

Yue’li dives on top of Mich as lightning spears over their heads, exploding into a sand dune in front of them. She hears the wyvern screeching, its claws scratching against stone as it scurries away.

Five seconds…

Master Larmings whips around with his greatsword unsheathed. “Who goes there?” he demands. “Show yourselves!”

From behind a cluster of pillars, a handsome young man emerges, hands up and empty. A sword hangs sheathed by his waist, and although his gauntlets look thick and sturdy, the rest of his armor is leather.

A fighter? Yue’li thinks. Or a rogue?

Ten Seconds…

Three more people emerge from behind the pillars, one after another. Yue’li studies each one carefully as they join the young man.

A mage, a tracker, and…

“Elle?!”

Master Larmings turns to Yue’li, the question unspoken in his eyes.

Fifteen seconds…

“Dear me,” the young man says, stepping forwards with his hands still up in the air. “My sincerest of apologies. I do hope no one was hurt.”

Beneath her, Yue’li hears Mich groan and she realizes she’s still on top of him. She climbs off of him and helps the ranger to his feet.

Mich massages his chest. “That remains to be seen,” he says in a winded but bemused voice.

“We’re fine,” says Master Larmings. “I assume for your sake, stranger, that you were aiming for the wyvern.”

Twenty seconds…

“Yes, of course,” the young man says good-humouredly. “Though it appears my Mage Man here completely misjudged the distance.” He hooks a thumb towards the staff-wielding mage behind him. “He just saw the monster and went for it without a second thought. I told him, Geyzle you idiot, that monster is way too far to hit with a spell, but he was like-”

“We were tracking that wyvern first,” Master Larmings cuts in.

The young man’s smile is all teeth. “As I said, had I known there was another team here, I would never have let my imbecile of a mage take the shot.” He sweeps a gracious arm out at the sand and rocks surrounding them. “The monster is yours, good sir. We’ll be on our way, now, if you’ll be so kind as to let this unfortunate accident go unanswered.”

Thirty-five seconds…

Master Larmings lowers his sword. Yue’li can see the gears turning in his head.

The other party has a fighter, tracker, and mage. It’s a similar setup to his, and they don’t look very experienced either.

Yue’li tries to make eye contact with Elevena, but the other girl is looking away.

“I’ll let you guys off this time,” Master Larmings tells the young man. “But if we see you again around these parts today, I can’t promise we won’t be the first to let loose our bows.”

Fifty seconds…

The young man’s smile never wanes as he says, “Duly noted.”

Master Larmings starts to turn back, his mouth opening to say something to Mich or Yue’li, but at that moment the young man at the bottom of the hill raises his hand, and something shoots from behind him, zipping across the sand.

“Watch out!” Yue’li lunges for Master Larmings. The man gives Yue’li a startled look before he collapses into her arms, an arrow stuck between his shoulder blades.

Fifty-five seconds.

Yue’li falls backward into the sand, crushed by a dying man’s weight. All the air escapes her so she cannot scream.

Sixty.

The world descends into noise but the only thing Yue’li is aware of is blood, flowing onto her face from her Grunt Master’s opened mouth.