I am standing before a trembling Innkeeper, ragged and hoarse breaths coming out of my mouth. I’m sweating up a storm, and probably smell worse than that Orc I killed not too long ago…

Why does it feel like I’m forgetting something?

She looks into my eyes, utter terror being the only thing in there. She then looks at my side and I swear she’s about to start fainting, that or puking. She then starts speaking in a squeaky and fearful voice, none of her usual haughtiness present.

“W-wh-who d-d-did y-y-y-you k-k-k-kill?” Innkeeper

I quirk an eyebrow and follow her gaze with my own, only then realizing that I’m in a serious amount of pain. Remember what I said about that pseudo-flesh being frail in comparison to the real thing? Good, because it seems that I didn’t.

I realize that the strange warm feeling I’ve been having for the last twenty minutes, ever since I started my little rampage, has been my blood leaking through my armor. I little of it is dripping out of the the cut in my armor, while the rest funnels its way through my trousers.

“Oh… that’s bad.” Cecilia

Once those words leave my mouth, my battle rush simply gives out. I feel weak in the knees and my joints start trembling. My instincts are telling me to run, but I’ve lost too much blood and feel too weak to move that much. My legs can’t take the strain anymore and I fall flat on my back. I start gasping for air as the world around me starts to go black.

As my mother said, great people don’t die in great ways, if they died when it counted, they wouldn’t be great. Great people die in the small ways, negligence being the usual way. Always in a small way, mostly brought about by themselves.

I’m gasping for air, my body telling me that my end may very well be near.

Good God, this can’t be it? Can it?

No, not ending here. I haven’t gotten everything this world owes me yet, and It’s working up quite the interest. It took my childhood, my mother, my father’s attention, my peace, and one hell of a lot of issues. Life owes me a fuck ton, and I intend to collect.

Miss Inkeeper seems to have other plans, I realize, as she wrenches a sword from my hand. I barely make out the rasp of a blade leaving it’s scabbard? I think the word is scabbard.

Well fuck me.

I think she’s giving me a speech about how this is what I deserve or whatever. The arrogance is literally palpable, as I can barely even breath through it.

Scratch that, I’m just having a hard time breathing. I think she has a foot on my solar plexis, not that I’d put it below her, this is her victory speech or whatever that heroes always give in those stories. Probably thinks she is one, a hero that is, come to kill the horrendous demon who beat the shit out of the villagers without even causing permanent damage.

Well, obvious permanent damage.

I, thankfully, still have a trick up my sleeve that she probably forgot all about.

My tail.

The little limb still has a good amount of power left in it, so I’m able to get it to slither out of my pants. It was hidden for a good reason, I assure you. For Beast-Kin, High or Low, it is considered indecent to show your tail to anyone but family. But you wanna know something? Right now, decency can go and kiss the scaliest part of my ass. I would never do this in a normal situation, but even a mouse pulls out the stops if cornered.

Slowly ever slowly, I grab one of the knives I keep specifically for situations like this from my belt, with the tail of course, and like lightning plunge it into the side of her calf. The benefit of having a little serpent blood, your tail is a lot more fine tuned than any of the other breeds, mix that with a little wolf blood and your tail is as effective as they come, only problem is that mine is a bit long and has the same flesh as the rest of my body, making it look very out of place in comparison to most Beast-Kin tails. I usually just keep it wrapped around my upper thigh.

She screams in shock, and I feel her fall onto my legs. She continues screaming before her kicking stops and an eerie silence continues, filled only by my incessant gasps for air. I don’t even know how I’m still alive, but I don’t give a damn at the moment. I still have some strength left in my tail, and have no idea if Cyrus and Y’sar will get here in time, so I make the most of the strength I have left.

I have one heal potion that is top quality stuff, got it as one of my mother’s gifts that show up randomly throughout the years. Thing about mom was that she somehow always knew when something was going to happen, if I didn’t know better, I would call her a seer. The real kind, the ones that lived in the time of the Eldar-Kin.

But if that were true, then she wouldn’t have been such a piss poor gambler.

My tail feels it’s way up the rough contours of my armor, twitching slightly every time it comes upon the seam between two sections of leather; yes, my tail is very sensitive, don’t remind me. Eventually it manages to find the little metal canister I keep the potion in. With a little doing, I bring the canister to my lips, undo the cap, and drink everything to the last drop.

These high quality remedies, that can be reduced to mere potions that don’t require direct contact with the wound, are wonderful. However, they can’t compare to the power of the healing remedies of the Metal-Kin. But that doesn’t really matter at the moment.

I can feel my flesh repairing itself as a hot feeling rushes through my entire body, making me realize how cold I just was. This wasn’t happening instantaneously, though. I seem to have lost my sense of time in the euphoric bliss I find myself in. I can see why the nobility always have these on hand, they probably take them just for the euphoria.

Maybe this is why all those noblemen had strange…. Preferences.

Eventually I calm down and get up. I’m actually rather amazed, the potion even managed to get rid of my sore muscles and I can feel a few scars start to dissolve. This is amazing! I wonder if can restore a girls virginity? That would explain why Talia’s toys can’t discern who actually took her virginity.

I walk over to the now dead Innkeeper, prying her cold, dead hands off of my knife. Why am I so insensitive to the dead? Easy, I’m a killer, blood is a normal thing when put on my hands, and I have seen people I like far more die in far less peaceful ways. If she were someone I didn’t kill or someone I liked, I’d most likely at least have the decency to close her eyes for her, but with these little shits I could care less.

I then grab the sabre she took from me and sheath it back in it’s scabbard, then reattaching it to my belt. I have some Plains-Kin style warrior belts, pouches, and scabbards, which makes it easier to customize the placement of my tools. Why people stick to those crappy, traditional Stone-Kin stuff is beyond me. The Stone-Kin are great at making things the Plains-kin come up with functional, so their resistance to fully merging with the rest of Eria never ceases to confuse me.

Now, where the hell did Y’sar hide this time? Then again, what's his chivalry is with him this time, so he won’t try and time how long it takes me to track him down again. I really need to get better at putting names to faces, or races names to everything for that matter. I can’t even remember the simplest words at times, like supernatural and scabbard.

Anyways, that idiot should show up in three… two… on--

“Moon cow~. Are you done relieving your stress and frustrations yet~?” Y’sar

Me and the headsmen are going to be very good friends once I get to the castle. Y’sar trotted up on his horse, holding the reins to my own steed as… damn, still can’t remember his name! Anyways as the knight followed up not far behind, slightly annoyed by the looks of it.

“You do realize I could get you with the death penalty now that I’m heir apparent, right?” Cecilia

He just gives me a shiteating grin.

“Yup.” Y’sar

I let out an exasperated groan. This fucking Wood-Kin

“Alright then, let’s get a move on. I don’t want to waste whatever time dad has left by, well, wasting time. How long a distance is it by horse?” Cecilia

Cyrus, hah! Remembered his name! Ahem, Cyrus looks upwards while he thinks about the distance before looking down at me a moment later. By then I had already gotten back on my bitch*cough*horse.

“Two days if we ride at full speed. Besides, these are the pride and joy of the Royal stables, as long as we slow down to a trot every once in awhile and make sure to feed them water and food regularly, they should be able to keep a constant pace. By the way, is that your blood, or the cow’s?” Cyrus

Hmm, much better than Cattian Elk, but then again, these are also royal breeds, fed the best potions and such from birth to guarantee solid growth. These types of potions aren’t really fit for Kinnic consumption, something alchemists are still trying to understand.

“Cow, also, what do you think Sigara? Want to go for a little run?” Cecilia

She just looks at me in horror and starts braying in a fearful manner, ohhh~! How cute~! She thinks she has a say~! I let my mental grin take place on my features and Sigara just gets a look of resignation in her eyes. At least she knows her place, animals are so much faster in that regard than the Kinnic races. Except for Cattian Elk, they are a little ditzy. I look up at my companions who seem to have a queer look in their eyes, making my grin only increase in size.

“She says yes.” Cecilia

Y’sar barks out a laugh and Cyrus sighs while tossing another sack of coins at Y’sar. Seriously Cyrus, never bet against Y’sar. Bastard has annoying amounts of luck. Also, why are you constantly betting? I get the feeling that this particular knight is a bit abnormal, in comparison to his peerage. Nobles tended to shy away from gambling, a few nations to the east falling due to such stupid reasons.

So many questions, but hey, I’ve got time to find the answers. Especially with my new rank.

Come to think of it, I wonder how far dad’s spy network has managed to spread since I left the palace? I haven’t heard a word about it, so it has to be doing well. You only know if a group like that is good at their jobs if you can’t prove anything about them; making them hard to find, also proving they are good at their jobs. Actually how a few non-contracted shadow guilds die out, nobody can hire them because nobody knows about them, because they are too good at their jobs.

Y’sar clicks his tongue twice, he does this whenever he wants the horse to start running. I eventually found out that it’s his way of commanding his horse, clicking his tongue. Having special ways to command one’s steed is quite common in practice, helps fuck with bandits. And if there’s anything Erians love to do, it’s leave behind tricks that fuck with our killers. Actually how Eria was first born, but that’s a story for another day.

Cyrus sets off after and just has a resigned expression on his face.

I turn around to look at the village I may have just killed. Everyone was groaning and some had regained consciousness, looking at me in a cross between fear and awe. I hear a few telling me to come at them or something, probably just young males looking to impress a few women. Something I never understood with the High-Beasts, they could care less about breeding Low-Beasts, but then they treated their own children like shit. Also, polygamy, kinda disgusting in my opinion. They even share each other, which is even more disgusting, they only really care if their mate is cheating as long as if it’s with a member of the same breed; again, adding to my disgust. Honestly, I went to one village where a bull was screwing the brains out of a wolf while her husband was in the next room, beating the shit of his half-bull son.

Not that Low-Beast society doesn’t have it’s own flaws, we are very distrustful of anyone who isn’t a Low-Beast, but we are loyal to a fault regarding our friends.

“Hey, Cecilia, you coming?!” Cyrus

I turn around to see that Cyrus stopped not far down the road, Y’sar a little farther down. I realize that I must have been sitting here for a bit longer than I intended.

“Crap, COMING!” Cecilia

I then start galloping down towards them.

I can only wonder how my time in the capital will go. Traditional High-Beasts annoy me greatly, but Nobles are something far, far more enraging to me.

I am going to be good friends with the headsmen, I believe.