Waking up in the morning with an aching body was an expected, but not a welcome sensation. The ground wasn’t soft by any means and sleeping on it wasn’t hospitable to the body. The fact that they’d slept without blankets was concerning but Rowan didn’t feel soreness in his throat as he did before.

Then again, the blanket at home was thin enough that it may as well not exist but it was summer and he was sleeping inside a house.

One benefit of traveling light was that it was easy to pack up. In fact, there was nothing to carry save for the empty bucket that Jason collected water in. They found themselves back on the road minutes after dawn.

While there was jerky in their pouches, it wouldn’t serve as anything more than a snack. They’d have to hunt down something else in a few hours lest they starve, but it seemed that Rowan was the only one that had a problem with the lack of a breakfast.

That was why he remained silent but four hours of nonstop walking was draining.

An unearthly stench started to permeate the air as they entered a darker part of the forest. It smelled like rotten meat that had been left out in the sun for too long. The buzzing of flies came before they even got to the worst part of it all.

There, before them stood a wooden barricade with pointy tips. On each tip was a head. Some of them dripped blood but some of them only retained their shape, mostly rotten. Underneath the barricade, the ground had turned into a bog.

“Demons,” growled Peter, his hands clenched hard enough to draw blood. It trickled down to the ground.

Rowan, on the other hand, was on the ground, emptying the contents of his dinner from the day before. It hadn’t been fully digested yet but came as a green, viscous liquid that he jumped away from the moment he was done. With the bottom of his left sleeve, he wiped off the residue and turned away from the wall.

There was nothing else in his stomach but his gag reflex forced him to retch.

“Get up. We must leave quickly,” said Isaac and pulled Rowan up to his feet. He was stronger than he looked —a benefit of being a Cultivator.

“I’ll murder them all,” mumbled Peter, his eyes stuck on the heads stuck to the pike.

Jason stood there, a nasty scowl on his face and Grace averted her gaze. She’d covered her nose with a napkin long before they reached the barricade. Liz, on the other hand, casually walked up to the barricade and hopped over it after pulling a fresh head off one of the pikes.

Fantasy worlds…

“I hate it here,” Rowan mumbled to himself.

That’s when a screech that sent shivers down his spine sounded out from the west. It curdled his blood and his entire body was paralyzed, making it impossible to move.

“It’s a Demonic Beast,” grumbled Isaac and extended his hand to the side as if to pick up something.

From his hand grew a blade of green light. It wasn’t as vibrant as the red light that covered Peter during the Graduation Ceremony but it packed far more power. That was easily apparent from how the sword sent leaves spiraling in a cyclone around Isaac. Both of his eyes glowed the same shade of light green as the sword.

Rather than using it to fight, Isaac threw it as far as possible. It didn’t cut or pierce through trees but zigzagged around them as if it had eyes. Rowan could swear it traveled miles away but the logical part of him knew that he couldn’t see further than a hundred meters in the woods.

“Let’s go. That’ll keep it distracted for a bit,” said Isaac and hopped over the barricade as if it was a step on a stairway. Green light covered his soles as he did so, propelling him several meters into the air.

Peter covered his entire body in red light instead. It fluttered and crackled like fire. With his newfound strength, he grabbed Grace and jumped over the barricade. He wasn’t sent several meters into the air but just enough to get over the obstacle.

Jason was left to fend for himself, which he managed easily. He climbed over the barricade and wiped his hand on the relatively clean grass on the other side. Rowan, on the other hand, took several seconds to snap out of his stupor.

That creature wasn’t normal.

No, he knew it was abnormal.

The realization that such creatures prowled in the forest, though, took him aback. It made him question how safe they were. It made him question whether he could sleep without waking up at the slightest noise.

Despite the fact that he could utilize his Qi like Peter, Rowan didn’t try his luck. He sprinted to the barricade and climbed atop the wooden obstruction. He’d never been known for his parkour skills and the muscle memory of his new body couldn’t teach him that.

The mud forced his shoes to sink into it, staining it with an uncharacteristic dark brown color. The moisture reached his socks and went straight through them to smother his feet in an uncomfortable sensation.

Each step carried a squelching sound with it.

If he could be paralyzed like that with a roar, Rowan feared what would happen if he came face-to-face with it. The larger amount of adrenaline rushing through his body and his superior physique allowed him to catch up to the rest. Isaac and Peter weren’t running as fast as they could, and he was faster than the rest.

“What was that?” asked Peter after Isaac stopped running. Rowan found himself only slightly flushed while Liz, Grace, and Jason weren’t in any shape to run. They were panting, collapsed on the ground.

“A bait. Demonic Beasts sense the Qi flowing through us to track us down when we’re out of eyesight. I used most of mine and sent it as far as possible. By the time it realizes that we’ll be too far to sense,” said Isaac and turned to Rowan as well, “You should learn it as well. They naturally gravitate toward the larger source unless it’s far larger than theirs.”

Peter offered a hand to Grace and she accepted it instantly. She let herself be pulled up and climbed up on his back.

The difference in their physiques was glaringly obvious.

“That’s why it’s faster if it’s only Cultivators. All three of you are baggage,” said Isaac and turned to Jason.

He rolled his eyes and stuck out a finger. A mini-cyclone of green light hovered at its tip. Despite Jason’s protests, it struck his forehead, and the moment it did, Jason collapsed. Before he reached the ground, Isaac tossed him over his shoulder and then turned to Rowan.

What he had to do was obvious: he had to carry Liz.

Rowan turned his back to Liz and asked.

“It’s in reverse this time,” he said and chuckled at his own joke. She’d always give him piggyback rides when he was too tired to walk from kindergarten. Back then, he was small and she seemed massive.

He had to misdirect himself —keep himself away from the thoughts of the barricade.

“Shut up,” grumbled Liz and climbed on his back. She felt lighter. He’d carried her to her bed several times when she came home drunk and had collapsed on the couch, but this time, she was far lighter.

Sleeping people were heavier but the stark contrast couldn’t be dismissed as that. Rowan didn’t know how hard he could hit but if it was anywhere close to what he felt when being struck by Peter, then he had to be able to deadlift at least eight hundred pounds and that was the minimum.

Rowan doubted he’d be tossed around like that even if he was hit by a pro boxer.

That brought him to the question of Liz’s weight and that’s what kept his mind occupied for almost an hour…

***

Despite carrying people, their pace had grown significantly faster. Running in intervals of entire hours without being exhausted was a great boon and that let them scale far more distance than before. It also let them have a modicum of privacy, running dozens of meters away from each other.

Peter’s brows were furrowed and his mind was occupied.

Then, he finally spoke.

“Is that really Rowan?” asked Peter, just loud enough for Grace to hear. She was awake, unlike Jason or Liz. Her conditioning was fresh. They were trained to be awake for periods of two days without rest if required.

“No, definitely not. He’s not half as paranoid as the real him and doesn’t remember the recently added cooking classes,” said Grace, her voice far quieter than Peter’s.

“He should’ve known I’d broken through at the ceremony. He looked surprised,” said Peter and bit his lips, “So what? A Changeling? At that age?”

“A possibility. Or it could be a Cultivator trying to infiltrate the army,” said Grace and bit her lips. She closed her eyes for a bit to focus on her thoughts and slowly exhaled. Then she added, “It’s obvious that he isn’t trying to murder us. He’d have already done that if he wanted to. For now, we get to the Capital. Then, we proceed.”

“Should we tell the mercenary?” asked Peter.

“No. That’s unnecessary. He wouldn’t care and he might expose our doubts,” said Grace and Peter sighed in response.

“Why, though? Why Rowan, of all people?” asked Peter.

“He’s a commoner and was on the verge of graduation. It makes sense he’d be a prime target. I doubt his home is warded,” said Grace.

“That means he’s been stolen. If the real Rowan’s anywhere, he’s in here,” said Peter.

“Why would they steal him? He’s probably lying gutted in the sewers,” said Grace after a scoff.

“Breeding,” said Peter, and that one word was enough an explanation.

“And what? You want to save him? Out of their den? When you’re just a Defiant Squire?” asked Grace. There was a massive scowl on her face, “That’s suicide.”

“Noblesse Oblige,” said Peter and turned his head to the west, where stood one of the many hidden cities of the Demons.

“You’d do that for him, of all people? The one you almost killed?” asked Grace.

Peter was silent for a few seconds, then he spoke, “I’ll take the road after I deliver Rowan back to Ascot. They won’t be expecting me on the road at that point. I just need you to help me fake a kidnapping.”

“You’re risking everyone with that,” hissed Grace.

“The mercenary will just leave me behind. Tell Jason the real reason when he wakes up. Can’t have him think I actually got kidnapped,” said Peter and turned his head to glance at Isaac, only to find him nowhere. Rowan was to his left, slightly out of earshot considering the speed at which they were moving.

That’s when a snare caught Peter’s leg and tossed him up into the air. As a result, Grace tumbled down to the ground and stumbled a few times. Just when Peter assumed he’d been done in by the changeling, Rowan, too, fell prey to a trap —it was a pitfall.

Peter pulled his torso up and tried to cut it off with his knife, to no avail. The snare wasn’t made out of rope, but some silky and sticky substance. His knife and left hand with which he held it while trying to cut off were now stuck to the string, making it impossible to pull away without ripping his skin.

“It’s useless. You won’t be able to get out of that for a few hours, at least,” resounded the clear voice of a man.

The man walked from underneath a tree and regarded them closely. His flesh was snow-white and he had pointy ears. His eyes lacked irises or pupils, only a deep blue sclera filling the entirety of his eyes. There was a distinct lack of any bodily hair, including eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair.

His eyes finally focused on Grace and a wide grin appeared on his face. All of its teeth were pointy and sharp, resembling those of a shark. His grin was wider than what any human could muster.

“Such soft flesh,” whispered the Demon and knelt on one knee.

He ran the back of his hand across Grace’s cheek. Slowly, his mouth creaked open and the sound of bones snapping could be heard. Its mouth opened as large as his face, large enough to comfortably fit the entirety of Grace’s head inside it. There were countless lines of teeth that went down his throat and inside his body, resembling a sea lamprey.

Grace slowly let her hand wander onto her right thigh where a dagger was strapped. She pulled it out as quietly as she could, for the Demon’s eyes were no longer on her but he could still hear. Just before he bit down, Grace jammed the dagger into its neck, only for it to ineffectively slide off.

“Enough!” roared a deep but feminine voice and the Demon’s mouth snapped shut, his almost beautiful face back in one piece.

“I just wanted to give her a fright. No harm done,” said Lamprey Mouth.

Peter, on the other hand, was flailing madly. His Veil covered him, enhancing his strength, speed, durability and more importantly, he was angry. In his antics, he managed to pull his hand away from the adhesive silk, ripping off a bit of his flesh in the process.

He no longer cared for it, though.

With a single swipe, he managed to cut off the string but his dagger broke in the process. Its handle remained in his hand but the blade was snapped away.

“Die!” he roared and swung his hand, intent on hitting the Demon with the bottom of his hands. All his Qi was focused on that single point and very much like Isaac focusing his Qi at the bottom of his soles, the effectiveness in that immediate area was amplified a thousandfold.

The bright, red light coalesced into a flame. Its heat was intolerable to all but Peter himself. Leaves that fell from the tree in the process of him breaking out of it burst into flames and were turned into ashes within mere moments. More importantly, the chop landed on the creature and melted through his flesh to reach his bone.

That’s when a glacier shot through his forearm and forced the hand covered in flames to plop down to the ground, separated from his body. The Qi did a final service for Peter, cauterizing his wound before it fell down.

Peter screamed in pain, but halfway through, his consciousness faded —the effects of Qi Exhaustion.