When Octavius arrived at Robert’s clearing, the flickering orange glow of a fire was casting long shadows from below the animal skins that made up the door. He swept them aside with a casual wave of his left hand.

The firepit in the middle of the clearing held a roaring fire that spread light across its entire area. The wooden table had been moved back to its place at one side of the clearing. As Octavius entered the clearing, Robert looked up from a worn book he’d been reading.

“Ah, Octavius,” he smiled, “Would you mind telling me why exactly you wanted to meet me so desperately?”

The special operator was not very impressed with the man at the moment. Despite Robert’s good qualities, the man seemed to be taking an extremely laid back approach when it came to the thralls that day.

“We were going to talk about the thralls,” Octavius said simply as he sat across from the blonde man. Robert blinked before nodding slowly.

“Yes, sorry about that,” he muttered, “That compulsion is nasty. How’d the mission go specifically, then? Did you find out anything new?”

Octavius nodded and described the events of the night and the brief stints of combat. Robert was surprised by the existence of the wood shaper but didn’t interrupt. “Overall, I’d say that It went very well. Almost too well, in fact,” he finished before trailing off as he debated the same point in his mind that he’d been thinking about for much of the day.

“What do you mean ‘too well?’” Robert asked.

“I mean that the thralls don’t make any sense,” Octavius responded, “They have high levels and are outfitted with permanently enchanted gear, but act so amateurish.”

The guard captain creased his brows, “And in what ways do they act amateurish?”

“They can’t fight, for one,” Octavius commented, “I’ve met fourteen of them so far, and only one appeared to have both experience and training in combat; That specific thrall could fight didn’t even have an illusion ring. Beyond that, their tactics are shit. I mean, why weren’t they in a party with a group from their main camp, or even with the scouts that were watching us?”

Robert was silent as the thought over what Octavius had said.

“They’re thralls,” he said quietly, “But is that the name of their species, or what the system translates the name of their species to?”

Octavius frowned, “To me, the word thrall means a slave in English. What about you?”

Robert’s eyebrows rose. “Well, I suppose that answers the question clearly enough,” he commented, “To me, the word has the same meaning, but it’s in Dutch.”

Octavius looked at the man. “Ok,” he said, “The name of their species is translatable to slave. How does that help us?”

“Because it could help us understand them,” Robert explained, “The wood shaper seems less like a combat class and more like it was a craftsman of some sort. The vast majority of the thralls that you’ve encountered are mages and can’t fight well. They have either an extreme devotion to their cause, or they are terrified of offending their superiors. They might be the actual slaves of a more powerful species.”

The soldier nodded along. “That makes a bit of sense,” he acquiesced, “But it doesn’t explain how well equipped they are. Who gives their slaves the ability to actually disappear, weaponry, and some form of metal alternation abilities, then sends them off to a tutorial filled with people who hadn’t even heard of the system two months ago? Especially without giving them much, if any, real training.”

Robert frowned at that. “You do have a point,” he admitted, “It was just the first thing that came to mind. Otherwise, I’m not sure. We’ll probably need more information about them to figure it out.”

Octavius thought for a moment. “The way I see it, there are three things that we can do from here,” he said, “We can go try to get more information from the captured thrall. We can also send some people to scout out their main base, though that would come with its own host of issues. Finally, we can prepare for them to come to us. Now that the Emergence is over and their scout team is gone, I can’t see them waiting much longer to make their move. Not unless they know something we don’t.”

The guard captain frowned slightly. “We can do all of those things,” he offered, “Our problem comes with the specifics. Now that the captured thrall knows that you know about the compulsion, it probably will be much tougher to get accurate information out of. As for sending scouts, we would have to send them without telling them about the thralls to avoid the compulsion working on them. But even if we did do that, it will start working on them the moment they get any good intel on the thralls.”

Octavius nodded. “I agree with you on the first point, but it will still be worth doing,” he allowed, “But for scouting, you would just need to send a single person with a will above forty to keep the rest of the team in check. I’ll see if my team from last night is up for another mission.”

Robert looked at him, thoughtfully. “Ok, that just might work,” he agreed, “But then there’s our largest problem. How do we prepare for an enemy that out-levels us and can turn invisible?”

“We consolidate the people into a more defensible place, keep constant guards with bright lights, and have everyone travel in groups to avoid ambushes,” Octavius explained.

Even before he finished speaking, Robert was already shaking his head. “I’m just a guard captain; I can’t do all of that,” he admitted.

Octavius looked at him neutrally. “Yes, but the council knows about the thralls. Did they not take the threat seriously?” he asked.

“Some did, some didn’t. It doesn’t really matter either way,” Robert said, “The Sanctuary just got through the Emergence. Trying to keep up the constant guard schedules, along with burdening people with new rules, will receive significant pushback. If we end up explaining the thralls to gain support, the guards won’t be able to watch out for them actively due to the compulsion. The people just want to get through the rest of the tutorial, and dealing with a new major threat publically will cause panic. We lost too many good fighters and craftsmen at the start of the Emergence because they didn’t want to be in the center of the place where all beasts were going. Starting all that again would hurt us significantly.”

Octavius sighed. He hadn’t thought of what it would take to get it done, just what needed to be done. His aversion to politics started at a young age, and he very much didn’t want to start dealing with it in the tutorial.

“Ok,” he muttered, “Then what can we do?”

Robert was quiet for a long minute before he opened his mouth to respond. Before he could, a figure burst through the wide entrance to the clear. His wild eyes quickly found Robert, and he paused.

“What is it?” Robert demanded, clearly recognizing the guard.

The guard opened and closed his mouth a few times before scowling. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t seem to remember what I needed to tell you,” he said.

That immediately got the attention of both Octavius and Robert. They only knew of one thing that would cause someone to forget something so vital.

“Is it about the thralls?” Octavius asked sharply.

The guard’s eyes widened. “Yes! Yes! That’s it!” he nodded hurriedly, “The thrall escaped!”

Octavius stood in a rush, gripping his spear tightly. “When did this happen? How did it escape?” he asked as he hurried toward the exit of the clearing.

Robert and the guard followed him, and the guard explained. “Asim and I were assigned to guard it tonight. We just arrived at its cell to start our shift, and the two guards that were supposed to be watching it were gone. The thrall wasn’t inside, either.”

Octavius broke out into a jog. “How is that possible?” he asked, “I can understand the possibility of the compulsion getting the better of the guards, but it was tied up so tightly that there was no way it could’ve escaped. Not to mention that it doesn’t have its illusion ring anymore; how will it get out of the Sanctuary?”

Robert answered one of his largely rhetorical questions, “Maybe it has a different type of spell that helped it escape? And the compulsion could definitely help it get out.”

Octavius shook his head as his pace further increased, “If it does have a spell like that, why didn’t it use it sooner?”

The guard captain was silent. They soon reached the makeshift cell, and Octavius barged inside. A black man, presumably Asim, was crouched over the ropes coiled irregularly on the ground below the wooden post. Octavius rushed over and crouched beside the man.

The light of dusk made it nearly impossible to see clearly, and he decided that it would be worth using his flashlight for a few minutes. Pulling it from his belt, he flicked it on. A beam of white light lanced from the small metal device and illuminated the ropes.

They weren’t cut or burned in any way that Octavius could see. In fact, they almost appeared to be torn apart. The roughly braided strands were frayed and unwound in the area just around each break. He counted three separate breaks on the ropes.

It looked almost like the thrall gained fifty points of strength and ripped them apart. But that didn’t make any sense to Octavius. If the thrall had some way to increase its strength so drastically, why hadn’t it done so when it was captured?

Robert crouched next to Octavius and Asim while the third guard bounced nervously from foot to foot. Robert frowned for a moment before his eyes widened.

“Ice!” he exclaimed softly.

Octavius reached forward and touched the ropes. Both the ropes themselves and the ground under them were perfectly dry. He looked questioningly at Robert.

“You said that the thralls can increase and decrease the rigidity of their skin?” Robert asked.

At Octavius’s affirmative nod. The man smiled slightly, “You know how roads crack because water finds weaknesses then expands when it freezes?”

Octavius cursed softly under his breath. He understood where Robert was going, and it made perfect sense.

“The thrall could have made its skin softer and then hard over and over, slightly moving each time,” Robert explained, “If it did it long enough, it would stretch the ropes slightly each time, until they either stretched far enough for it to slip through, or they snapped.”

Octavius nodded along. “That makes sense,” he agreed, “But what do we do now? If we let it warn the rest of the thralls, we probably won’t have another day to prepare. If they know that we’re aware of them, they would have to be complete imbeciles to not attack right away.”

Robert stood. “I’ll go get every guard available to start patrolling the camp. If I order them to shout the moment they see it, the compulsion won’t be able to stop them,” he said, “And I’ll send some people to go find the guards that were supposed to be watching it.”

Octavius stood as well and started moving toward the exit of the cell. “The Sanctuary isn’t far across. There’s a good chance that it already escaped into the surrounding forest,” he grunted, “We need to try to go after it.”

Where would it be going? he asked himself, Either their outpost or their main base. The main base would be the better choice, obviously, but these thralls haven’t exactly been making the smartest choices.

He groaned internally as he sprinted toward his clearing, leaving Robert behind to start issuing orders. His understanding of thrall psychology was lacking, to say the least. The best option would be to send groups to both places.

As soon as he entered his clearing, he carefully avoided the traps that he’d set. He then began to gather the supplies that he might need for a few nights in the wild, just to be safe. A fresh animal skin of water was attached to his belt, along with a large pouch of smoked meat. Finally, he retrieved the spellbook that Caster had lent him. At that moment, he really wished that he had read it earlier that afternoon instead of adjusting to his newly improved stats.

Exiting the clearing in a hurry, he rushed for the kitchens. All around him, the languid hustle and bustle of the Sanctuary was being replaced by shouted orders and pounding footsteps. Once he had rounded the bend that led to the kitchens, his party quickly came into sight. Even after he had left, they remained around the campfire.

They looked up as he sprinted over to them. “The captured thrall escaped,” he said by way of greeting. The group looked at him with more intensity after that, and he explained what he needed them to do.

“I’m going to run for their main base. It’s a mage, and we are about the same level now. I’ll try to catch it before it can report to its superiors,” he said, “I need another group to check the outpost we raided last night; see if it went there instead.”

Caster stood, “I gained a few levels during the battle this morning. I have enough points to put me above forty will, so I can keep the group on track.”

Octavius nodded; he’d guessed that the young man would put points into will because of its effects on mana manipulation.

Marcus stood too, “Cap, you shouldn’t go to their main base alone.”

Before the marine even finished speaking, Octavius was shaking his head, “If I go, it’ll be quickly and silently. I can stay illusioned for the most time compared to all of you except Caster. Not to mention move quicker. I won’t even be going to their base, only trying to cut it off. The more people, the greater the risk of attracting too much unwanted attention.”

Marcus clearly wasn’t happy with that reasoning but accepted it. Octavius handed Caster the spellbook, “Here, I’ll have to borrow it another night.”

Turning, he hefted his spear slightly, “Hurry up any preparations and leave as soon as you can. Be safe and good luck. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

With that, he was sprinting toward the northern border of the Sanctuary.

Octavius thought back to the thrall’s directions as he ducked under a tree branch.

“If you follow the stream to the north and take the third tributary, you’ll find a cliff that overlooks grassland. Follow it to the East for ten miles. It is in a cave halfway down the cliff.”

He veered to his left until he was running along the bank of the stream. The flowing water only a few feet to his side reflected the glowing stars and the full moon. With the clear ground of the riverbank in front of him, he broke out into a sprint. He didn’t know how long it had been since the thrall had escaped, but it would be best to assume that it already had a large head start.

Thinking back even farther, he remembered what the group of thralls he’d met outside of the dungeon had said.

“We are all high strung from a fortnight out here. At least we are returning to base the day after tomorrow.”

Assuming that their guard rotations were the same duration across the tutorial, there had been enough time for almost four guard-rotations since the tutorial had begun. With only four rotations, he doubted that this specific thrall had traveled the route to and from the Sanctuary more than a handful of times. That meant that it was incredibly likely that the thrall was following the same directions it gave Octavius, assuming it hadn’t been lying.

He focused his eyes on the riverbanks in front of him. Every deep shadow or irregular shape would receive extra scrutiny. There was still a chance that the thrall wasn’t going to their main base at all or that it was taking a separate route entirely.

Octavius definitely didn’t like the number of variables that could affect the next few hours. Still, the amount of time needed to set up a more complete search was not worth letting the thrall build more of a head start.

There were three main areas that the thrall could be. It could still be in the Sanctuary, and Robert was searching for it there. It could be heading to the outpost his party had raided the previous night, but so was his team. The final option that he could see it picking was heading back to its main base, and so that was where he was going.

As his legs carried him forward with a steady rhythm, he remembered one of the things he had discovered with Robert earlier. If the system translates the races of creatures to what we can understand, what does that say about the Lord of Beasts? He idly wondered as his eyes scanned a shadow cast by a tree, Identify said that it was a ‘Son of Typhon.’ Obviously, ‘Son of’ was translated to English for me, but what about Typhon? If I remember correctly, Typhon was the father of monsters in Greek mythology. Does that mean he really exists? Or is that just what the system translated the name to?

It was an interesting concept to ponder, but not something that he should be distracting himself with at that moment. Shoving all of the errant thoughts from his mind, he focused completely on listening and looking for the thrall as his boots pounded down the riverbank.