It was even more of a massacre than the previous fight.

A fireball detonating in the middle of the group immediately put the already confused bandits into disarray as both their clothes and their bodies caught ablaze. Two spared from the initial blast attempted to flee while their comrades threw themselves to the ground, trying to put out fires. Neither helped.

Both attempts were equally futile when facing pyrokinetic monsters capable of leaping over distances. Smaller monsters charging in the wake of the explosion made short work of any opposition.

The air was filled with the stench of burned flesh, pained screams and giggling of sadistic monsters. I was once more entirely paralyzed and just sat there, my response was more dulled by the shock than before. I just couldn’t do anything, couldn’t make myself do anything.

The monsters once again laughed at the destruction they caused and I silently mourned this tragic course of the event that I didn’t dare to even prevent for the reason I couldn’t admit to myself. I didn’t wish those men to die, but I didn’t do anything - then another of those overlay windows decided to taunt me about it.

Skill not selected before the encounter.

For attempting extermination of humans in the area. Skill “Slayer of Men” Lvl. 1” gained instead.

I wanted to scream out that nothing of such was my intent, but once again, just as many times before, a bloody mist spit out another monster others welcome with their giggly voices.

It was a slightly different one from the previous ones. Yet, it was still discernibly feminine, despite her black fur, and posture hunched almost as if she was ready to dash out, which gave off the vibe of a werewolf.

“They missed one.” She snickered, her voice, while woman-like has a soft snarling undertone to it.

“Let him go.” I pleaded, there was enough death already. I wasn’t in the state when I could issue anything resembling orders in a firm tone of voice, but it didn’t seem that the new one needed one.

“Yes, Master.” She replied without hesitation.

A new one fit right in, the smaller ‘Purifiers’ chuckled but let her alone, and Tama opted to ignore the ‘werewolf’ completely stepping away to retrieve something from the bodies farther away. Her lesser kin probably clawed those down rather than burning them by default. I didn’t know.

A new anthropomorphic canine circled about me, sniffing the air.

Unlike others, she was larger, with more defined musculature under the unnaturally gleaming dark fur, with a hulky posture leaning forward which somehow looked quite elegant as she crept around on her digitigrade legs, weaving her long bushy tail around. Compared to Tama, her snout was longer, her ears shorter, her mane was richer with a more blood-like colour, and even the feminine curves were much more pronounced - essentially, a meaner, bigger, badder, fire motif replaced by the shadowy hue for her.

When Tama returned with the other bottle the original owner won’t need anymore, a new monster was already hanging over me from behind, softly purring in my ear: “I will protect you better, Master.”

She somehow disturbed me even more than the other ones, as her claws were also noticeably larger and scythe-like, excellent for tearing the soft targets. Unlike the smaller, but equally spontaneously clingy vulpine equivalents, she was stronger and impossible to shake down - but she radiated a pleasant warmth which was paradoxically calming as it was unnerving.

Meanwhile, Tama returned with the bottle that didn’t break while the hapless bandits were being brutally dispatched, and presented it to me, paying no special attention to the black werewolf-like counterpart hanging over me.

“I think it’s sake, or similar spirits. Smells like alcohol.” She announced, “May work as disinfection.”

I didn’t say anything. Did the men have to die because of this? Why was it happening to me, how did I deserve it?

My thoughts were interrupted by the alcohol being poured on the bruised and cut feet. It, of course, created a sharp burning pain, but ultimately, it was meaningless. Just a minor cut to be treated. As an alternative to slapping my face. My mind escaped towards the suffering caused to others anyway.

By the time I was able to force myself to react to anything my monstrous companion managed to strap me into the looted armour, bandaged my feet in the straps of torn cloth, and put me literally into the boots they found.

They might have said anything, they did speak, but I paid no attention to it. I was leaving this scene of horror.

A few hundred metres down the road, a panoramic view of the land opened to us.

In front of us was the lush green valley, with a river snaking through the patches of dense forest divided by the traces of human habitation, ranging from fields and small hamlets to the larger town far in the distance, almost obscured by the fog. It had a very old, oriental feel to it, evoking pictures of ancient Asia. Or how I imagined it. This, along with no sign of modern life, emphasised I was far from home.

As I was hit with the overall sense of hopelessness and the lack of direction. I was lost in some foreign land. No backup plan, no main plan for what mattered. Zero ideas about how I got there, even less how to leave.

After a short internal struggle to arrange my thoughts I finally forced myself to ask something not taking my eyes off the horizon.

“Where are we?” I asked almost absentmindedly.

“I don’t know, Master.”

“Any idea how to get home?”

“My home is where you are, Master.”

The reply reminded me once again of how both strange and dangerous my current company was. Tama was a dangerous creature that killed without remorse, and her lesser variants currently loitering around were no better. I doubted that the tall female werewolf that was placed in my company had any greater restraint in that regard. As much as they claimed they would follow my order, I had my doubts, however, in the strange land with possibly still hostile locals, I somehow doubted I would fare better without.

I was already anxious about that. And looking at how two so-called ‘Purifiers’ tore apart a slightly burned rabbit so they could share the meal made me sick once more.

“Any idea what to do now?” I asked.

“Water? Food? Shelter?” The werewolf provided surprisingly useful advice.

“We can hunt quite well,” Tama argued.

“While I will gladly keep Master warm, a shelter wouldn’t harm.” The black canine argued.

“I don’t mind either,” Tama replied, once again starting to be flirty. I rather shivered at the thought of how murderous she can get.

Luckily, they didn’t start bickering, and I considered my options.

There weren’t many.

The closest structure was a multi-tiered pagoda, or at least something very similar to it, rising above the treeline, easily visible from where we stood. It was still probably several kilometres away, but closer than anything else. I looked around, trying to get my bearing on our relative location. Recalling the cliff now somewhere far behind us, I assumed we were coming down the hills.

I decided to head there and stepped forward - perhaps there will be someone able to help, to bring some light into the situation, perhaps…

“Do you have a name?” I asked the canine monster which decided to keep uncomfortably close as I tried to walk. Tama also kept close.

“No, Master, you only named Tama.” She answered eagerly - still a slight growl undertone to her voice.

“What about … Miwah.” I suggested. The Asian name for the vaguely Asian scenery we were passing through. I came to regret it immediately.

The second unit is named! Miwah, the Eviscerator Alpha

Skill “Slayer of Men” Lvl. 2 ” gained.

I yanked as yet another window once again appeared in front of my eyes, and the geysers of reddish mist spawned yet another pair of monsters into the world. That startled me, even if it wasn’t the first time it happened. Those looked like a smaller, younger version of newly named Miwah, comparatively more diminutive in stature, with less pronounced feminine traits, not that wild mane, and still long fluffy tails. They were not lacking in those sharp scythe-like talons though.

“Master?” They announced themselves, once again, with girly voices, just more pronounced “r” in their speech.

With the absence of any reaction on my part, the smaller ‘Purifiers’ giggled in welcome, but otherwise, the two kinds of monsters didn’t seem to be bothered by each other too much. They did try to get my attention; instead, I kept my mouth shut.

“Very nice, Master.” Miwah purred approvingly.

Everything that happened just led to increasing their numbers, even the relatively innocent actions, like names, and I realised the obvious - I didn’t have a single idea how to even speak with locals if they didn’t understand my language, and the increasing crowd around me didn’t exactly invite trust. But I was probably more worried about being lost in the foreign land

“Can I ask you to not attack humans at first sight?” I tried.

Everyone looked at me at the same time, with more than a dozen pairs of eyes, almost like I said something quite ridiculous. A tense moment of silence was interrupted by the fog forming a fox-like ‘Purifier’ which immediately chortled just as others tend to do.

“If they don’t attack us first?” I tried, quickly adding: “I need to ask them something. We don’t even know where we are.”

“Yes, Master.” Both Tama and Miwah confirmed, and their lesser kins echoed it with a “Master!” chant, returning to normal behaviour. Normal for them, I assumed.

I was about to ask them to stop calling me the “Master”, I wasn’t that comfortable with it and their general attitude, but I sensed it was a conversation for another time and let it be even if it felt weird. It didn’t seem to be a good idea to challenge their worldview at the moment.

“Let’s go.”

“Let’s …”

For the following half an hour, or perhaps even more, I entirely failed in holding any kind of conversation as my thoughts were preoccupied with the implications of my current situation, and the constant struggle to not think about the people being scorched alive. Fact that the perpetrators of those acts dawdled around didn’t help.

The monsters didn’t seem to mind though. Two larger ones stuck dangerously close to me, their little kin were like an unruly mob whose members would occasionally run away toward every possible direction, further on the road, or into the forest that surrounded us trying to amuse themselves. Or catch wildlife to snack on, which I rather didn’t want to look at.

I tried to occupy my mind by thinking about some way to communicate with the locals if no one spoke the same language, assuming they were even willing to speak with me in the first place which may not be guaranteed, which led to a creeping realisation that I simply didn’t know what to do. Random stranger kindness became unlikely and without the means to communicate the complex concepts ‘getting home’ was almost impossible. I was about to ask Tama or Miwah whether they could speak other languages.

Then the breath of wind carried in the stench of death, blood and faeces. Monsters were probably keenly aware of this before I was, but I was trying to pay no attention to them.

Before us, down the road, was a scene of another massacre, this one however not committed by the furry menagerie surrounding me. A few broken or overturned wagons blocked the road, remnants of what once was the cargo scattered around, along with the score of corpses. Bodies that had died from sword slashes or that were pierced by arrows were left there in the pools of their own blood, to rot or be eaten by scavengers.

The stench was unbearable. I struggled to push forward, while ‘my’ creatures sprung into action, either to loot whatever remained there, help themselves to little knick-knacks to keep as trophies or face whatever ambush may lay ahead.

Tama and Miwah stayed close, leaving their lesser kin to do the job.

I, however, couldn’t bring myself to care and push ahead mindlessly, and I didn’t care for ambushes or motives, I only didn’t want to look at the carnage.

Ahead, beyond the curving road that sneaked downhill, a pagoda-like structure still loomed over the surrounding trees, much closer to us than before.

All the dead bodies around were a stern reminder that it wasn’t as safe a place as I thought it to be.