I circle the area, looking for traces of monsters. The spotted doglike creatures have moved on but I can see their tracks and the remains of their meal. I pick up the bloody corpse of a mamaroon by the tail.

It has a long, sinuous body. Incredibly flexible. I have no problem rolling the thing into a ball. Does it even have bones?

I thought so when I saw the drawing of it but it really does look like a weasel. I wonder if that’s what it evolved from.

One of the many things I learned from my initiate classes is that it’s no coincidence manabeasts are similar to normal animals. One originates from the other. There is a theory that, the same as people, every animal is born with at least one affinity and the ability to use magic. The problem is that they lack the intelligence to build spells. Hence, the mana in their bodies goes unused and uncultivated.

The turning point for an animal’s species is when a member is born with a pure affinity. Mana does a person good. The more mana in the body, the stronger you are. It’s how knights can achieve superhuman feats like fighting draconids. Why swordsmanship and martial arts aren’t obsolete in the face of casters who can topple mountains, summon tidal waves that swallow ships, and bring down the burning wrath of the sun.

When an animal is born with a pure affinity, not only does it have access to mana, but it becomes stronger, faster, and smarter than its peers, though not necessarily intelligent. More likely to learn from its mistakes and deploy better strategies for survival according to leading researchers.

Nature says that the strong find the strong. Said beast will have access to the strongest mates. Bloodline is important. That is why nobles are so intent on matching with other noble families or, if push comes to shove, commoners of exceptional talent. Those with rare affinities are more likely to give birth to talented children.

After several generations, a common weasel that is nothing more than a pest to farmers can become the monster I’m holding right now.

Truly impressive.

But, for all its effort, to me, it is still a pest.

I hold it closer and sniff, cataloging every scent. The heavy smell of blood that leaves a metallic taste on my tongue from a whiff. The bitter aroma of the shrubs dotted about that the creature must have moved through. The smell of the predators that brought an early end to its life. The smell of the dusty ground. And the smell unique to the creature.

I’ve got you. Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can find the little pests wherever they are. The question is, being completely sure I can find a den in relatively short order, should I gather my team? It might be better to call them back before they travel too far. I’ll need them once I find a den. I haven’t practiced my earth affinity much, certainly not enough to pull natural burrowers out of their dens.

Ah, no. That’s not right. Narrow tunnels aren’t enough to stop me. There’s a limit to how much I can compress my body, a limit that grows the more I eat, but I can fit the shape of the mamaroons.

Better yet.

Focusing my senses, I make sure there is no one around and no prying eyes. Satisfied, my arm turns into ooze. Then it expands, covering the mamaroon. A moment later, my body digests it and a new form is available to me.

Heh. Looks look I get to play pretend again. I’m feeling a bit nostalgic.

I gather the other corpses, holding them by their fluffy tails. Then I circle the area, trying to find which direction they came from. It’s the first time I’m grateful to be stuck in this wasteland. In a city, there are dozens of scents on one corner. Perfumes, foods, people, animals. It’s enough to make my head spin. Tracking anything is a nightmare. Possible, but a pain in the nostrils.

Here? It’s so much easier it feels like a joke. I follow the trail of the doglike monsters, following their musk and blood drops on the ground from the mamaroons. Together, they lead me to a moderately sized hill with a clump of vegetation on the top and smaller shrubs along its sides.

I don’t approach, not wanting to spook them. Instead, I flip down my magnification ‘film’ and circle the hill, looking for signs of my prey.

…nothing. No tracks, no openings in the ground. No little bodies darting through the shadows or noses poking from between the shrubs. Absolutely no evidence there are monsters in the area but my nose is screaming that they’re here. The scent is too strong.

I huff and find a good rock to perch on. If they aren’t here now, they’ll be here. At least one to point me to the others. The sun is still high in the sky. I can wait for a while.

And that patience pays off.

My eyelids are drooping when I pick up a sound similar to shifting sand. I look up, ‘film’ coming down. Near the base of the hill, I see the earth moving. Tiny claws break through the surface, creating a small opening. Then the earth surrounding the opening falls away, the gap widening and the edges smoothing out.

Lo and behold, a weasel-like monster scampers out. Followed by another. And another.

“Look at that.” Den discovered. Geneva, can you hear me?

[Of course, my summoner.]

How’s the rest of my team doing?

[William’s group is currently catching their breath. The group spotted mamaroons near the watering hole. Arthur got enthusiastic and attacked them, violating the peace of the area. The other monsters took offense and drove them away. They managed to defend themselves with minimal injuries and plan to return to camp.]

Alana?

[Alana and Cloud have found a den.]

Really?! Saints, I can’t believe she found it before me.

[She had the sense to utilize Bell to track them. The den was a small one. Cloud has progressed far enough on her path to emulate a monster that when the creatures caught her scent, they recognized a threat. They scattered. Alana is currently running after the ones she can see.]

Haha. Alana must have been pissed. Did she try to kill her?

[Your sun was quite furious. She had asked Cloud to come close to ask her questions. She never told her to move away. Cloud reasoned telling her that her scent would startle the creatures would count as assisting. She stated that not asking her to step back was Alana’s misjudgment and she should bear the consequences.]

How’d she take that?

[She pulled her sword.]

As expected.

[No need to be concerned. They never came to blows. Cloud simply reminded her of the test and Alana refocused on the mamaroons. She is currently simmering in anger. Cloud takes a bit too much pleasure in pushing her boundaries.]

Don’t I know it. I know they get along underneath it all though and don’t you dare confirm that.

[As you wish.]

If anyone checks in with you about me, I’m on the trail of a den. Not to be disturbed.

[You plan to take on the den by yourself.]

Yeah. Better not to have any witnesses. I should be wrapping things up here swiftly.

[Would you like my assistance?]

It’s fine. You can focus on dinner. I don’t know what you’re going to do with that monster meat without proper cooking utensils or spices.

[I have my ways.]

Should I ask?

[It would ruin the mystery.]

…is it dangerous?

[As dangerous as all immensely pleasurable things are.]

I suppose you can’t help yourself from corrupting people. Good. I’m going to crawl through small, dark tunnels. The least I deserve is a delicious meal. Let me know if something happens.

[Good luck, Lou.]