The map was light as a leaf in his hands. He could barely differentiate the markings and the wrinkles on it. He couldn’t quite believe this worn-out map had caused the downfall of the Bald Brutes.

Looking at the map, his first thought was, is it really the same island?

He didn’t know how the island looked from above, but he was sure it wouldn’t be circular like it was depicted on the map. Gintura Isle’s edges were jagged like the edge of a badly made saw. There was a big dent in the east.

Ignoring the edges, it might look like a bitten apple. Not circular.

Landmarks on the map were also strange. He only recognized a few. Luckily, the path to the grotto Dada mentioned was one of them.

Moon Ridge Mountains were barren mountains that crawled along the edge of the north. They curled around the island like a crescent moon. If he had to go there on foot, it’d take at least three days.

Fortunately, the first thing he did after leaving Crov’s secret hideout was getting a horse that had the draconic steed pedigree which was known for its speed and stamina. The stallion towered over him by three arms on its strong legs. Its dark scales were the flakes of black iron plate. With this big guy, he could reach the foot of the ridge by dusk.

He took out a quill and marked a place nearest to the destination at the foot of the Moon Ridge mountains.

He strapped his travel sack into a saddlebag and tied a bunch of dry grass laced with stimulants to the other side of the saddle.

The horse ate half of his savings and the others such as rations and stimulants had drained his pocket. But Ray believed it was worth it.

Wedging a leg into a stirrup, he mounted the horse. Dada was the best rider he had known. And Dada made sure Ray wasn’t a bad one either.

He leaned forward to caress the mount’s neck and squeezed his legs at the girth which set the horse into motion.

Ray began with trotting and urged the horse up to a canter after a while and finally broke into a gallop. Gaining speed eagerly wasn’t good for long rides; it’d wear out the horse. But Ray had very little time to spare. If only to reach his destination sooner, he’d happily wear out a dozen horses to death.

By the time the sun settled overhead, Mirantel City was far out of his eyeshot and tall trees of Chiura Forest were in his sight. It was a great forest so thick with trees that even at noon, you would scarcely find a patch of light inside. Every tree was like any other. Without a guide, the first-timers would be strangled inside the forest for eternity. Dada had often brought him here to train him, so Ray knew it like the back of his hand.

Like there was a caveat for everything, this one had it too. And that was ‘never set a foot in the forest once the sun went down’. There were many scary stories about the forest circulating among the islanders. But all of them stressed one thing: nasty beasts would be afoot in the Chiura Forest after the sunset.

Ray didn’t quite believe them, but he knew better than to turn a deaf ear to such widespread belief. There was no smoke without fire after all.

Hence, he was set on reaching the foot of the Moon Mountain Ridge by dusk.

At a dead gallop, he charged into the forest, headlong. The horse beneath him became restless in the dark maze of woods. Ray rubbed below its neck reassuringly. He became its eyes and guided it along the creek that would lead him out of the forest to the ridge. He slowed down the horse when they passed through the sleeping bear’s territory and deftly avoided the sly ape’s turf.

The journey was tedious. Ray didn’t intend to stop except for lunch, but the horse was giving trouble.

In the beginning, the horse had been quite high-spirited and responded to the lightest of his squeezes. But now it fell behind his leg, not responding to him even when he closed his legs with all his strength.

He too felt a bit dizzy. His spine turned soft from the hours of the journey. There was no strength in his legs to give directions to the horse anymore.

He opened his grip around the girth to slow down the horse. The latter, who had been happy to oblige, came to a halt almost immediately.

Ray leaned to take out the dry grass that’d been strapped to the saddle and fed it to the horse who chewed on it right away. The poor thing had no idea that the dry grass was laced with stimulants to bring the horse to a top condition temporarily.

Once the effect had worn off, Ray estimated, it couldn’t walk for at least three days.

By the time he completed his lunch, the stimulants seemed to take effect. The horse started sniggering and clawing restlessly. When Ray gave it a slight squeeze, it reared up on its hind legs and neighed and directly broke into a dead gallop on its own.

Ray didn’t have time to adjust to the bouncing. His spine felt like it was being hammered. He had to pull his reins hard to control it.

And like that, he ventured into the forest.

When he reached the foot of the Moon Ridge Mountains, all the strength had left Ray. He lay on the back of the horse like a poppet, his limbs dangling. The horse wasn’t much better either; the effects of stimulants began to wear off.

Luckily, they reached the foot of the chain of bald mountains before dusk. Unlike Chiura Forest he crossed, Moon Ridge Mountains didn’t have a sliver of greenery on it. Down from here, the ridge looked like a desert of big rocks.

No dangerous beast would lurk around a pile of rocks. But scaling the mountain was still not an easy task.

Ray didn’t intend to climb it right away. His body needed some rest. He unfastened the saddle and bridle, and threw them off the horse. Then he threw a bunch of green grass stuffed with medicinal leaves in front of it.

That was his compensation.

Then he took a piece of spiced meat from the travel sack and munched on it. Soon, he found himself nodding off.

He shook himself to attention. It wasn’t safe down here.

He pulled out a rope and started scaling the tallest tree he could find. When he found a sturdy branch, he bound himself to it.

Shifting on the hard and uneven bed, he tried hard to find some comfortable position to slip into the sleep. But his mind was a welter of thoughts.

What exactly is in that grotto?

I hope there’s some kinda weapon. A psychic one would be better. I’ll kill those bastards and avenge Dada.

But… What if I can’t find anything helpful? Should I hand over the map and save the rest of the Bald Brutes?

NO! The answer came right away.

If he gave the map to them, he could retrieve Dada’s body and save the rest of the Bald Brutes. But that’d render Dada’s death meaningless. Dada had chosen death instead of offering the map. If he gave it now, wouldn’t he be insulting Dada?

That wasn’t something Ray would do even in his death.

Ray closed his eyes. What should he do then?

After struggling for a while, he decided. If there was something that can help him wipe out the outlanders, he’d do it. If there wasn’t, he’d go back, go to the Eiran fucking Leopold to show him the map, and then… he’d burn the map right in front of him.

That’d be nice. He smiled. Sure, without a doubt, the next thing would be his death. But that didn’t seem half bad.

*****

When the sun graced the first ray of light onto the land, Ray was on his way up the mountain. The rocky surface beneath his feet was too hard and slippery. He had a hard time finding a purchase. Nonetheless, he pressed on with a sheer will.

Hell or high water, this day it would be decided.