The adventurer’s retreat from the site of the downed beast was not what they would call orderly. Arran was not able to cover the whole flank at once, and Gavan had drained himself of most of his mana already.

Ailith and Faye were the roving defence. By pairing up, they were able to quickly lock down and take out any of the monsters following.

Unlike the briars, these were flesh and blood creatures that, whilst not fire-lovers, were certainly not as susceptible to fire damage as the mostly wood lesser and Awakened briars had been. At first, Ailith and Faye had each taken a flank to themselves, with Arran guarding the centre or flashing forward to the front of the cart to ensure the way was clear.

After struggling with what had seemed to be an ordinary wolf, Faye had gladly accepted Ailith’s suggestion of working together.

“We can cover less space, but we won’t get stuck in one place for as long.”

The light had almost immediately disappeared, the moment they dropped down the first dip of sloped grassy hillside. Fortunately, the crafters had small lanterns on the front of the cart to light their way. Faye and Ailith, however, had to rely on more than light.

[Swordfighter’s Sense] told Faye when the monsters were near and which direction they were, which allowed them both to focus their attention where it needed to be.

On the road, progress went much faster. The crafters were able to move the cart with an astonishing speed, but Faye recalled the warning that they could only do so for a brief time.

“The oxen are still in the stables… oh, the Steading’s defences. I don’t know if they’re still alive,” Faye said.

Ailith looked over her shoulder. “This is a worse situation than we expected, there are guidelines to follow when this happens. We will travel back to town faster without the cart.”

Faye frowned. “Does that mean we failed the mission?”

Ailith shrugged in response. “No, not really. This was an opportunistic mission for the Guild itself. We don’t do many of them. Anything we bring back, at whatever time it gets back, is a gain for the town.”

Faye nodded. That did make sense.

The monster attacks slowed as they moved closer to the Steading. It seemed that they were content with allowing the adventurers to escape. Faye was glad of it. Even with the boost of power that the system gave a person in this world, she felt fatigue nipping at her heels.

Of course, there was no rest to be found. The Steading’s wards were still active.

The ward came to just over the road’s edge, running alongside it until they were close enough to see the Steading properly. The gate into the Steading’s yard was a few steps into the ward, they were completely blocked off.

Arran called for the crafters to draw the cart to a standstill anyway.

“Faye, how long did you say the wards were set for?”

“A day,” she replied. “They told me I would not be able to return for a full day.”

“Powerful,” Gavan muttered. He glanced at the barrier from where he sat on the edge of the cart, his legs dangling off the back. “Cannot bypass.”

Arran nodded. “I came to the same conclusion. We have two options.”

He turned to face the crafters, who had crowded close to listen. They were each breathing heavily. Faye could not see their expressions in the darkness of their faces.

“The first option is to carry on as we have been. The monsters have stayed close to the corpse. They will eat their fill now, and more.”

“Bloody mongrels,” Mich muttered. “Waste a’ good material.”

“If we carry on with the cart, we’re slowed. You cannot keep that pace for longer than you have already. We will need frequent and long rests.”

“Aye, it’s true,” Mich replied.

“The crafting materials are why we came out here,” Ailith said, “it would not be the worst thing in the world to take longer travelling back.”

“Mich, how long do you suggest it would take to haul that thing all the way back to town?”

Mich did not reply at first, but Teánn spoke up. “It might add two days to the journey.”

“Maybe three,” Mich added. “Sorry, Arran, I cannae be sure that we could keep up the pace we would need the entire way.”

“That’s what I suspected,” Arran said, he did not sound annoyed. “That’s why the second option is to leave the cart and travel without it.”

“Abandon the cart? Wouldn’t monsters swarm it the moment they realised it was here?”

“Aye,” Arran said, “unless we secured it as best we could before we went.”

“It would mean the loss of everything,” Mich said. “I cannae agree to it.”

“Not all would be lost…” Arran tried, but the crafters would not let him.

“It would, all would be gone. The journey takes a day of hard slog. Two days of leaving it out? There’s no securing in the world that would let beast meat sit for two whole days, boy.”

Faye bristled. She knew that Arran and the others were perhaps a little young to have so much authority… but that was by Earth standards. Not here. Here, they were the experts.

“Mich, I understand, but you don’t seem to realise that what we faced here was more than some monsters that were attracted to the bounty on offer. There were… cultists of some sort. They tried a coordinated attack. If that was a threat that we knew of beforehand, we would have either brought more people or not come at all.”

“Aye, I understand that, lad, but you’re askin’ us to leave these things in the wild. What would be tha point? We came all the way out here to get them in the first place.”

They fell silent for a moment.

“You’re right,” Arran conceded. “But I feel that the situation warrants a degree of haste that we cannot perform with the cart in tow!”

“Ye know, with all that racket, I’m surprised none of them monsters have come back out to see what’s going on…”

They all spun to regard the figure on the other side of the ward.

Steader Bánn had approached, he was holding a lantern in one hand, and he peered out at their group. His shape was blurred, almost, as if a camera’s lens had been adjusted incorrectly. But it had been his voice, clear enough.

“Now, this ward does something funny to yer eyes,” he continued, “so I can’t see ye proper… but the whole bloody Steading can hear ye.”

“Steader Bánn!” Arran said. “It’s good to see you. Faye said that something had happened, are you and your family safe?”

“Aye, lad, they’re all safe, thanks to Faye,” the Steader said, with a nod of his head. “My Ceri’s ward work is fine stuff, and her spell took out the rest of the vermin. I’m ‘fraid the vermin got to yer oxen, lad.”

The Steader’s voice took on an apologetic cast. “Wasn’t much we could do, they got inte the stables afore we could close ‘em up.”

“Ah, I had wondered,” Arran replied. “It was not your fault.”

“And as to yer cart problem,” the Steader continued, “the obvious solution is te leave it right there.”

They looked at the cart, laden as it was with monster parts and a lagging Gavan.

“Right here?” Arran said. “That would draw every monster for miles to your door.”

The Steader waved an arm.

“Nah, the local beasts know by now not to come too close. The ones we might have to worry about are what young Faye there fought off earlier.”

“You did as much fighting-off as I did, Steader Bánn.”

“Eh, hardly.”

“About that,” Arran said. “We were attacked by a group that were summoning the monsters.”

The Steader didn’t say anything for a moment, so Faye pitched in.

“They are called Primalists. I heard a few talking and they mentioned a goddess of the forest, or something? Steader Bánn have you come across them before?”

“Primalists? No, lass, I can’t say we have had the pleasure. And they were the ones that conjured up those beasties that came into the yard?”

“Yes, I followed a pair that were planning to assault the Steading directly, too,” she added, “but the wards came up right before they crossed over.”

“Hah!” The Steader let out a bark of laughter. “Good. I will have’ta give Ceri the news. She’s done good tonight. Now, it were our fault that yer oxen perished. So, leave that cart ‘ere and the moment the wards come down, me and the lads will bring it inside. We’ve got yer two handlers to help as well.”

“Steader, if you don’t mind, Teánn, Warhn and I would gladly stay with the cart and tow it inside once we are able. We would only slow you down, Arran, and this way the cart is not completely open to the monsters,” Mich said.

Faye frowned. If the crafters were capable of defending the cart, it would mean getting back faster… but was it worth it to risk them, like that?

“I don’t like the idea of you being so exposed if they do decide to attack,” Arran said. “You will follow us down the road a ways. Perhaps staying near a wall.”

“Aye, there’ll be a place, a field south, that will give you a place to wait. Once the ward goes down, hop over into the yard and we’ll meet you.”

The crafters nodded. Teánn took the lanterns from the front of the cart and the other two secured the cloth tarp a little more tightly than before.

As they were doing so, Faye and the others shared out what rations they had for the crafters.

“Mich, this bag has enough for you all to eat tomorrow. I’m sure the Steader will have something else for you when the wards are down.”

“Thank you, Arran,” Mich said, taking the bag. “I know I sound daft, wanting to stay…”

“No, I understand,” Arran said. He turned to look at Faye, but she did not catch his expression. “I understand exactly why, and I think the rest of us do, too.”

“I’ll tell the Administrator that I insisted.”

Arran waved a hand. “She will have other things to be concerned with, like these Primalists. Now, if they show at all, you need to run. Deeper into the valley. Avoid the woods, stay well clear of the forest here. If any of you get hurt, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Heh, alright, you’re sounding like me mother now. Aren’t I old enough to be yer da?”

Arran shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Guild rules are on my side. Promise me you’ll all be prudent.”

“Arran,” Teánn said, “we’re crafters for a reason. We don’t enjoy being bitten or wrapped in thorns. Now go on, get going. Sooner you’re gone, sooner you’re back.”

They set out soon after that. Arran told Faye that she needed to try her best to keep up, but that if she needed a rest to let him know. They were only stopping when she said so.

“Why me?” she had asked.

“Because you…” Arran had started, but then he turned to look at Gavan, who looked morose. “Never mind, you’re right, it will be Gavan calling the stops. You’re level seven, now? Your toughness could be higher than his.”

Ailith laughed. “Will be higher than his, puny mage body.”

Faye chuckled and said, “I’m level eight, so it’s safe to say that I beat him.”

The laughter was a nice balm on her ragged emotions. She still trembled on a knife’s edge of an emotional abyss, but this helped her feel more normal.

A little.

So, they marched. The Steader had promised that the crafters would be safe in his care. He wished them well and safe travels. They reached the point the Steader had mentioned would hide the crafters quickly enough.

It was a low stone wall, similar to most of the others on Steading land. Loose rocks that gravity and good positioning held together rather than mortar. At the corner of two fields, the walls came together to make an L shaped section that was somewhat shielded and dark. When the crafters vaulted over and sat in the depression there, it was almost impossible to see them.

“Good enough,” Arran declared. “We will return as swiftly as we can. Be safe.”

“Aye, go on, we’ll be fine.”

And so, their march turned into a forced march. It was the dead of night. There were clouds above, rolling in from the north, covering the moon and its light. Dark enough that they felt forced to light the lantern. Teánn had said it would last them the journey if they were sparing.

Arran solved that problem by making them go faster still.

Despite the cold, which made their breath plume the moment they breathed out, Faye was comfortable. The jogging speed more than enough to keep her internally warm. She was concerned about Gavan. The usually taciturn man was silent, drudging along in the centre of their pack with drooping shoulders and a shuffling gait that sent her heart into her throat each time it seemed he might trip.

“Arran,” she called, “let’s take a break.”

They had not been travelling long, but with their quicker travel speed she was not sure how far they had come. Still in the Steader’s valley, the road was slowly angling upward as it reached the valley walls.

Pulling the group off the road a little and onto a grassy knoll, Arran slowed.

“Are you okay?” he asked Faye.

She could not see his face, the lantern pointed in her direction was blinding.

“Yeah, I just think if we rest now, we can move faster later. Gavan is not looking so good.”

“I’m fine.”

Arran looked at his mage, the lantern swivelling to point in Gavan’s direction.

“Faye’s right,” Arran said. “You look exhausted. You used more mana than you let on. How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

“We are stopping,” Arran declared. “Ailith, set up our mage’s tent, will you? Faye, scout the surroundings. If you see anything, let us know.”

Faye was glad to be part of the team enough that they felt comfortable giving her tasks. As she wandered in a circle around their camp, carefully making sure there were no hidden surprises, she used [Swordfighter’s Sense].

As useful a tool as this is, she thought, I have to be careful not to rely on it. It’s obviously a combat tool, not a general purpose one.

The expanded sense was certainly useful when surrounded by enemies. But without them, the expanded sense felt more like a void. Especially in the dark of night.

For a moment, the darkness and the lack of sensation of anything around her gave Faye a brief spell of vertigo. She dropped to her knees, grabbing the grass with both hands and willing her head to stop spinning.

Holding up one hand, she concentrated and managed to ignite some mana without it flying off into the night. The red-orange light pooled around her, and it was that act of setting eyes on solid ground that settled her.

“That was awful,” she muttered.

Her night vision ruined by the flicker of flames in her hand, she made a beeline back to the centre of the camp. Arran had chosen an advantageous position. Level, but also part way up a rise which meant no soggy mud or standing water and sheltered on one side with rising hillside.

She shook her hand, letting the flames there go out.

“See anything?” Ailith asked as Faye stepped closer.

“Nothing. But I saw too much nothing and got dizzy.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Ailith said. “You need more practise with the skill. It shouldn’t happen in future.”

“I’m almost happy that the system doesn’t just make geniuses out of everyone. You still have to work to perfect your abilities.”

Arran joined them; he was staring out over the road. “Exactly. Practise is important. Rookies don’t always get that.”

“I don’t know,” Ailith said, “it might be nice if the system just gave us things perfected. Might make life easier.”

“Easier, perhaps, but dull.”

“Nah, we’d still hunt monsters. We would do it knowing our skills were perfect, our abilities unmatched.”

Faye smiled. “Isn’t it worth more to you if you know that your hard work made your skills perfect, or ability unmatched?”

“Of course… but it would be nice to lounge around all day and still be the best.”

They shared a comfortable, quiet pause. Her night vision had returned, and Faye looked out across the valley with a smile on her face. She had been working hard. Her whole life, she had needed to work hard. Part of her agreed with Ailith. It would be nice to be successful without needing to do anything.

But that was not how life worked.

Arran said that he would take a watch and would wake Ailith for a second before they carried on.

Faye gladly took him up on the offer.

Their journey back to Lóthaven was uneventful. It was gruelling, toward the end. Gavan was not the only one needing rests. Lóthaven was situated higher in elevation than the Steader’s valley had been. It was on the final hour’s stretch that they realised something was not quite right.

“Arran… is that the town?” Faye asked, pointing at something ahead and to their left.

He looked up. “Yes. But I do not like what I’m seeing.”

Faye agreed. There was a black smudge rising from the town.

“Is that smoke?” she asked, quietly.

“If it is, something’s wrong.”

Arran’s adventuring team were the only one stationed in the town at the moment. The other teams were on their routes across the Lóthaven wilds, going from village to village, hamlet to hamlet, dispensing their services as they went and clearing up monster nests, performing trades, or other jobs that those people had requested — sometimes months before.

But, for the beast’s materials, the Administrator had deemed leaving the town relatively unprotected had been a risk worth taking.

Faye could practically feel the tension of her companions as they each looked at the black smudge on the horizon.

“Come on, only a few more miles. We will take it slower, arrive fresh.”

Closer to the town, spread throughout the trees lining the road, were the occasional aggravated beast that charged at them.

Each one, they took out with prejudice.

These were the regular denizens of the forest, but it was not the beasts themselves that added to their anxiety as they got closer and closer.

It was the monsters driving the beasts out of the forests.

The first one they saw made Faye’s heart quicken, and she launched a Fire Dart almost before they fully registered its presence.

The lesser briar burned up fast enough, and the beast it had been chasing blindly charged their group, too.

“They’re here,” Faye said, a worm of anger rising. “They’re attacking Lóthaven, aren’t they?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Ailith said, subdued, instead of her usual confidence and brash tone.

But they were not able to convince themselves it was a coincidence when, as they reached the gate, they saw it hanging open, one side torn away completely and the other hanging on a single hinge.