"... Where does your morality sit with that knowledge?"

Hearing the question, Drake muttered a curse under his breath. This was something he had been trying to avoid thinking about. As long as he purposely ignored that the problem existed, it wasn't a problem, right? Now that the Cleaner had outright pointed it out, however, he couldn't deny it.

This was war. What could one puny person do to influence it? Drake knew that his actions could possibly lead to more deaths. However, he wouldn't take the blame for them. While the top brass of both kingdoms were the true culprits behind the conflict, he doubted that all the soldiers were like him, forced to serve. Most of them had signed up on their own accord, fully aware that they could die.

"Well, now you know Menoraz is aware of your plans, so why don't you just retreat, or go kill yourselves somewhere else?! This way we can avoid bloodshed from both sides."

"Not going to happen, boy. As long as we silence you, nobody is gonna know about this army. We gave you a chance before, but tonight you are going to be executed for spying. You brought this upon yourself."

Drake chuckled darkly. He really had. However, listening to the black-coat, Drake confirmed that they still thought Kniivar and Frainer were with him, which was good. Every minute he bought for his partners was a victory in itself.

"If you say so. But let's stop with the games, shall we? You wanted to waste time for your men to flank me, but I got two of them on my sights. I would hate to have to kill them, so back off!"

He wasn't just bluffing. While they talked, the Cleaner had signaled his men to encircle Drake, so he couldn't escape. A simple but effective tactic, if one wasn't guarding against it. Unfortunately for them, Drake was expecting it, and had already found two of the Cleaners, and was ready to shoot them.

"F*ck this! Kill him!"

Throwing all pretenses aside, the scouts opened fire. Their hatred for Drake ran deep, considering he had killed many of their friends and companions. Even the Andasites, when given permission, couldn't wait to bury their fangs on his throat. However, as Drake had shown already, he was no easy prey.

In a matter of seconds, the two soldiers trying to flank him fell down, one holding a bloody forearm, and the other deadly silent. He wasn't lying when he said he had them under his aim. His efficiency certainly put off the fire that was burning in the Cleaners' eyes. They were angry, not stupid, after all.

Drake, taking advantage of that slight hesitation, bolted. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the broken ribs, and ran as fast as he could. He was still too close to the military camp, and risked black-coats arriving to reinforce the scouts. He had to get farther away, so he could take care of them more easily.

The Cleaners knew what he was thinking, obviously, but had no option but to chase him. If he escaped, their squad members would have died for nothing, and they would surely be punished.

For the next half an hour, the two groups ran through the forest, one escaping and the other chasing. The Lapidum scouts had Yscalents and Iferes with them, and would normally catch up to him quite easily. However, the vegetation provided a lot of cover for Drake, and his well-timed shots sent them away before they got too close.

However, he was injured and on foot. No matter how well he fought back, they were bound to catch up to him sometime. They only needed one opening to strike a deadly blow. And said opening came when Drake stumbled upon a root.

"Agh!"

He felt on his wounded side, and let out a yelp of pain. Before he could get up, an Andasite was already on top of him, the spiked tail cutting a hole in his pants as it lashed out, and the mouth full of sharp teeth mere centimeters away from his neck. The eye-less Ifere let out a shrill roar, why caused his entire body to feel weak.

The skill Undead Cry was a weird one. Maybe it should be called 'Paralytic Cry'. The sound wave penetrated deeply into the target's body, robbing them of their strength for just a second. If timed correctly, it was deadly.

The sharp teeth got closer to his face, ready to finish him. Slightly acidic saliva dripped in his face, and burned. His life flashed before his eyes, and Drake decided he wasn't ready for it to end just yet. Finding strength from the Mystic Iferes know where, he used his left arm to block the Andasite, which happily chomped down on it.

"Argh!!!"

Screaming in pain, Drake used his right hand to punch the Ifere's side. Once, twice, thrice. Finally, the creature whimpered in pain, and let go of his arm, and he scrambled to get away from it. Desperately searching for his weapons, he discovered that his pistols had fallen from his hands, and were lost somewhere on the forest's soil. Cursing, he reached for his knife just as the Andasite pounced on him again.

Ducking to avoid a Poison Claw, he brought his blade up, and buried it deep into the Andasite's belly. It fell heavily on the ground, dragging him along, and he took the chance to pull the knife out, and stab the Ifere again. He repeated the motion until it stopped struggling.

His hands and clothes covered in black blood, that threatened to slowly eat away at his flesh, Drake panted. Quickly cutting part of his shirt, he wiped his hands. The bite wound on his left arm was numb, and he was unsure if it was because of the adrenaline of some unknown substance in the Andasite's mouth.

"There! There he is!"

There was no time to search for his guns, since the Cleaners were already on top of him again. Doing his best to ignore the increasing pain from all over his body, he got up and started running again. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast. In his current condition, it wouldn't be much longer before he collapsed, and just with a knife, there was no way he could kill all the scouts.

-----------------------------

"F*cker killed Rose's Andasite, boss."

"Poor thing. But... Maybe it was for the best. It had already tried to kill itself when Rose was murdered. Only when we told it it could take revenge it stopped. Maybe it was a relief to it."

"Yeah, maybe... But that's another death I'm going to make that bastard pay for."

The connection between companions was just too strong. Even those who didn't have Spirit Contracts would sometimes choose to follow their loved ones in death, whatsoever those who did.

After glaring one last time at the dead Ifere, the Cleaners urged their Yscalents forward. The last two Andasites walked side by side with the leader, being his companions. He didn't want to risk them.

"Where the f*ck did he go?"

Muttering a curse, the black-coat noticed that Drake had seemingly vanished in thin air. They advanced a few more meters, but there was still no sign of him. A bad feeling growing in intensity by the second hit him, and he told his companions to ran forward - carefully - and find Drake's scent. As he had expected, it had disappeared.

"He climbed a tree or something! Stay close!"

Scanning the treetops, the scout stopped his mount, and waited. His companions would need just a moment to pick up Drake's trail again, and when they did, he would have nowhere to run. Suddenly, he noticed one of his subordinates was missing.

"Where is Alexa?"

"She was to my right... Damnit! Maybe she just didn't hear. Alexa!"

"Shut up, idiot! There is just one reason she wouldn't answer... Move!"

Sure enough, they soon found the body of their squad member, blood flowing slowly from a puncture wound in her neck.

"Bastard! Bastard!"

While one of his men cursed, the leader looked at his group. They were thirteen when this war first started. One they lost in a confrontation with a Menoraz patrol, and a second perished due to his injuries. Another was gravely wounded by Drake on their first encounter, and was forced to stay in bed and recover. They lost another four in their second confrontation with Drake, between dead and wounded. Seven of them went after him this night, and now only four remained, one injured.

Thinking of the constant - Drake - he almost ordered them to retreat. He had a gut feeling that the man could be their doom. However, he was a soldier, and he had been given an order. Besides, Cleaners valued their honor a lot. They couldn't give up now, not after everything Drake had done.

"Let's find him quickly. This hide-and-seek game has already cost us too much."

------------------------------

Like the scouts had suspected, Drake had climbed on a tree, and was waiting for them to pass. Thanks to the decision of the Cleaners' leader to keep his Andasites next to him out of fear for their lives, he had the chance to execute his plan.

When the woman, who he only later learned - thanks to the desperate yelling of her friends - was named Alexa, passed under him, he dropped on top of her.

"What the... Agh!"

"Ugh!"

Climbing the tree had been hard. Jumping down from it was painful. His ribs hurt, his head hurt, his arm hurt, his leg hurt, every f*cking part of his body hurt. Still, he kept a firm grasp on his dagger.

He and the black-coat tumbled down from her Yscalent, which, startled, ran away. As she tried to turn around to face the unexpected ambush, he elbowed her on the chin. She spat blood, a crazed look on her face, and punched him. Luckily, she didn't know his left side was injured, and opted to land her blows on the right.

Grunting, he grabbed her arm, and pushed it away. In the short moment when she wasn't defending her neck, he stabbed her. Almost instantly, she stopped squirming under him, and went completely still. Close as their faces were, he could see life leaving her, her eyes losing their shine.

Panting, Drake took a small break, and rested his back against a tree. For a while, he stared at Alexa. It was the first time he had killed someone with a blade. It was so... Close. So brutal.

Shaking his head, he lifted his tattered shirt to take a look at his body. A giant bruise stretched over the entirety of his left side, and he keenly felt the fractured ribs. Grunting with the effort, he got up and pulled his knife from the lifeless body. As he did so, another wave of pain assaulted him, and he staggered.

"Crap..."

Three remained. Five if he counted the Andasites. However, he now had the firearms Alexa carried. A rifle and one pistol. Better than nothing. Deciding that he wouldn't be in a better condition to fight his foes anytime soon, Drake limped his way to a big tree a few dozen meters away, and hid behind it. He had heard the Cleaners calling for their companion, and when Alexa didn't appear, they would probably come looking for her.

Sure enough, after one or two minutes, the three black-coats and the two Iferes came riding through the forest. They talked about something amongst themselves, but Drake couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.

With shaky hands, he lifted his rifle, and aimed at the Andasites, which he considered to be a bigger threat than the humans. Drake didn't want to experience their Bristle again. And, although he didn't like the idea of shooting the creatures without a warning, he liked even less the thought of having another close encounter with one. He still couldn't feel his left forearm.

The moment before he pressed the trigger, the two Iferes' sixth sense seemed to kick in, and they turned in his direction. Unfortunately to them, it was too late. Although Drake missed the first shot due to his unsteady aim, the following two hit the Andasites right in the head. Without so much as a whimper, they collapsed.

Raising his gun to target the Cleaners, Drake was assaulted by a bout of weakness, and missed. What he didn't miss, however, was the heartbreaking cry let out by the leader of the scouts. The man urged his mount forward without caring for anything else, and fired wildly.

Splinters were sent flying when the bullets impacted on the trees, some of them hitting Drake, but not with enough force to tear through his clothes. Only his exposed arms received some shallow cuts, but nothing worrying.

When the bullets finally stopped flying, Drake risked a glance from behind his cover, only to find that the Cleaner and his Yscalent were basically on top of him. Startled and scared, he stumbled back, and barely managed to dodge two claws. When he glanced up, he saw the barrel of a rifle a few centimeters away from his face.