Three more of those beastmen were still unconscious. We made sure to kill them before anything else.

Oak sits on a log by the dwindling fire, he reads a paper.

"A group of monster hunters." He smirks, "Got lucky with that Mana thief, they could all chant."

I finish strapping the leather cuirass on my chest, they worked well enough against us. To the victor goes the spoils. Oak's finding grows some pride in my chest.

"Wait, if those are monster hunters," I tap on my newly acquired leather armor," is this monster leather?"

"Probably." Oak continues to sift through the papers he found.

"Oh, here it is! A map!" Oak gestures for me to sit next to him.

"See kid we are right here," he gestures towards the desert marked 'Forsaken's Shield'. He then moves his finger a short distance to a small town at the border of the forest, 'Spearpoint' "see I knew it, they set up their base at the border town. Lucky for us, I’ve scouted here before. We shouldn’t have any problems."

Oak pulls to the forefront another map which is marked by lines of red and small script that gives information on troop movement. Ahh, a treasure trove of information.

I do notice though, "The maps out of date. It shows patrol routes that reach deep into humanity territory."

Oak shrugs, "We can’t have everything we want."

"It’s still good information, anyways one of us should take it back to Last Stop." I suggest

"No, our objective is the base."

"Oak, there’s two of us, only one of us needs to scout the bas--"

"Kid, forget about the map, that’s an order."

I nod, I don’t understand his reasoning, but he’s been doing this much longer than I have. Got to put my trust in him. He said he'll get me through this.

"Alright kid, reload your carbine and pistol. Don’t worry about taking any of the enchanted gear from the bodies, we can’t utilize any of them anyways and our steel is much better."

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Thankfully the camp had a bucket of water, I pour it over my head, vermillion trails fall from my face and cloths. It was starting to smell anyways.

The night is young, so we continue to take advantage of the time to travel some more. The closer we get to the Forest of Exodus, the more wild life we see. Harpies, Dire hawks, and even goblins are becoming common sights. It’s true then that the desert is the border separating the realm of men and magic.

Oak seems bothered, looking towards the jewels in the night sky, staring intently looking for something out of place in their glimmer. His steps which were once methodical and deliberate are now more erratic and excited. What does he expect to find?

With the map avoiding the enemy patrols are simple. We didn’t even have to take any major detours on our path. Eventually, when the sun is just teasing the horizon, we reach the Forest of Exodus, a veritable oasis of greenery in a landscape of barren reds.

"We'll sleep between the tree, just off the road."

The shade is heavenly, the sun peeking through the green leaves shining down upon brightly colored flowers. Little squirrels skitter about, their bushy tails blurring in their labor. I even saw a deer, such a proud beast with a great big rack of antler much bigger than any Beast man’s I’ve seen.

The air is fresh, smelling of life and warmth, but a distant scent hints at coming rain. Much better than the acrid scent of the capital.

The cities of the homeland's lack such life, but when we’re training to climb, the Walls of Humanity had yet to have all its life driven from it. Sometimes I find myself longing for those mountains, pining like a spurned lover. Ridiculous.

Finding a good clearing, we set our tents. Oak found some Goblin dung to rub against the trees. The stench should alert predators and prevent them from coming our way. That’s the idea anyways.

I killed two people earlier today. Huh, crazy how easily that kind of thing slips one’s mind.

Sleep claimed me in moments.

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Wow, we didn’t even set a watch last night. That’s pretty ballsy. Oak is awake, cooking on an open fire. Bacon, eggs (how?), and buttered toast? Those seem to be the smells wafting towards me. I dress, glad to have the leather breastplate supporting my chainmail and much thinner leather over coat. Said overcoat does a great job keeping the light drizzle of rain of my clothes.

Oak greets me with an easy wave. He answers my unspoken question.

"Close enough now that campfires are too common to check for spies."

"Sounds like you know from experience."

"Two years ago."

Very interesting, I assumed that he's made this trip before, but didn’t know for sure. The thin scars covering Oak's face stretch as he recalls some distant memory.

A voice hued with nostalgia, "This place isn’t as bad as everyone makes it out to be." Oak's eyes drift to the left deep in thought, “Well, if you ignore the fact that the people here will do everything in their power to ruin your life, but honestly is that too different from home."

'Ignoring the fact, they want you dead', nice rose-colored glasses you got there Oak, "No one back home has tried to ruin my life."

Oak smirks pulling the bright scars into uneven clumps of flesh "Kid, most people by a hundred haven’t almost died the amount of times you have at sixteen."

Fair enough.

Just as the man said, even with the fire we didn’t have any issues. After the rather hearty breakfast, Oak discussed his plan for getting into Spearpoint. Simply put, this far behind enemy lines the beastman are too disorganized lacking any one leader (thank you feudal society) meaning that the town guards are not trained soldiers looking for spies, but instead simple towns folk.

According to Oak the only need to do two things, stash the rifles, they are too large to conceal, and wear some hoods. Oh, and would you look at that the rain has picked up, awfully convenient. Bless the Wordsmith for his small gifts.

That’s how we find ourselves approaching the front gates of an enemy settlement with nothing, but some short knives and a pair of flintlock pistol liable to fuck up in the rain. Just wonderful.

A guard lowers his spear, more like pointed stick, and queries us. "Hold there good fellows! What’s your purpose this night?"

My beast tongue is rusty, but passable. "Me and me Cousin are stuck in the rain. Can we have shelter?" Gah, beast tongue grammar is the worse. It lacks the fluidity of the Wordsmith's language.

The owlish, literally has feathers around the ears, guard clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Aye, that I can see. Why were you out so late? You seem a bit too well armored to be a traveler."

Uhm, "That’s right we work for the supply wagons, guarding them and such. Our caravan got attacked but we got away."

With a skeptical face, "You don’t seem to urgent for folks who just got attacked." the guard seems to realize something, " By the Immortal axe, it doesn’t matter anyways. I’ll take you to the captain and he'll deal with ya."

The guard takes a small iron key from a pouch. He places it into the heavy Oak door behind him. A muttered phrase and a twist of the wrist, the door unlocks with a 'clunk'.

Inside, the town is well lit. It really isn’t much of a town, much smaller than any 'town' I’ve seen in the homeland. A few dozen houses and a rough gravel street. Thank the wordsmith for that, trying to move on mud roads in this rain would be unpleasant to say the least.

An odd humming hangs in the air, but it’s safe to assume it’s just some mana crystal or some magic. Makes no difference. What does make a difference is that Oak has also noticed the humming. He does not seem to take it lightly. His face pulling into a grimace. He stares at the sky not even bothering to continue to walk.

"Keep up you two. Stop your loitering."

I cover for Oak. "Sorry guardsman but my cousin is a bit slow. Gets skittish when in new places, like a dog you see."

The owlman nods, "Ahh I see" what an understanding man. "Do you two out of towners hear that humming."

Yes, I do, it’s also getting much MUCH louder.

I see the tensed legs of Oak, he’s preparing to run. With a soft mutter of ‘fuck’, he begins to dash towards a building. My feet pound after him, followed by an angry town guardsman. Oak slams into a door, breaking it loose and waking its denizens from their slumber.

The out of breath guardsman levels the spear at us which sways with exhaustion. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

Oak ignores the threat, instead crawling underneath the table. Just what purpose does hiding under a table serve..

"Airship! Get under here!"

"Hold on here just what language is that!"

What is an airship? I push pass the useless guard and crouch under the table. This feels absolutely ridiculous, especially with the family cowering in the houses corner as we hide under the fucking dining set.

Deafening explosions ring out and the earth shakes. Pieces of wood splinter from the ceiling falling down, one smashing into the guard which ends his shouting. I can recognize the noise causing all this damage.

Whatever an airship is... It has an absurd number of cannons.