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The monsters were blood raptors, a dinosaur-like creature with scales, feathers, and large talons. The monsters stood as tall as a horse and had big lizard heads with wicked man-eating teeth.

They were migrating from the colder north with nothing much in their way except for the area around Ride-or-Die Village. They attacked and ate for sport, too, and had the monstrous nature of growing too fast if they set up a lair.

Thankfully, they were mainly in the high Level 40s to low Level 50s.

However, there were over a thousand of them.

Roland and his killers pushed as far as they could go before Roland deployed an Advanced Roller Golem and performed a tactical retreat. The young men had to haul out their wounded as their healer mended severe injuries on the go to avoid getting surrounded by hounding blood raptors.

Other than the spectral spiders diving in to secure their escape, Zarian held back from helping. This was a solid learning lesson for Roland and the other youngsters.

The kiddos needed to practice tactical retreats to avoid getting themselves killed, and it was great that Roland knew when to pull out.

Besides, they had spectral spiders that were leading them to other nearby patrol units. One of those units was a band of thirty Self-Sufficient skeletons led by Flamer.

Once Roland reunited with Flamer, they waited for other patrols of teenage girls and boys to join them until they had a hundred skeletons and teenagers.

They went back to clearing out the blood raptor nest with a vengeance. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a lair or they might’ve gotten something nice out of it from the Star System.

Maybe they should’ve waited for the blood raptors to root down a little more. Zarian might have to add that to the list of gamified lessons the kiddos needed to learn to better survive as a savvy force without the Floridians.

Well, at least they did well.

Zarian turned his attention to a more distant group. He didn’t like what he was seeing.

There were four teenage girls acting alone with foreign adventurers. The teenagers were playing tour guides for six men and one woman. He recognized the girls, Clotilda especially.

Maybe it was a little old-fashioned, but even Naomi and the other women would agree that the young girls should have a boy or two with them. Or at the very least, they should’ve had more numbers in their squad.

The foreigners were from across the Stone Sea River. They differed from people of the Eternal Garden Kingdom, but they were still medieval types. One man acted especially flirty with the teenage girls.

“My dears, leave these savage lands and come back with me across the Stone Sea River,” said the man who was a Level 42 Slick Cutlass.

He dressed in loose clothing, almost like a pirate, and had a thin saber as his main weapon sheathed into a scabbard on his side. Zarian wasn’t sure if the man was uncommon in quality or rare, but the name of his class seemed to lean toward rare.

His lecherous attitude definitely came with some confidence. Not only did he talk close to their ears, he felt up one of the girls’ backsides.

Zarian took a deep breath.

He took another deep breath.

He tried not to intervene just yet.

“Come on now! Don’t act so cold like the rest of this world,” said the Slick Cutlass. “I hear how in the Eternal Garden Kingdom, they keep beautiful flowers like you trapped. In the Wind Strider Kingdom, you can be your true self. Wild like the wind. I can show you after we’re done here. All four of you, in fact.”

The girl he was feeling up on shoved him away and refocused on the job. But the Slick Cutlass renewed his attempts minutes later. Zarian noticed Clotilda, the leader of the girls, was growing more irritated, about ready to snap.

The other five men and one woman of the foreign adventurers were also in the Level 40s. They had the numbers advantage over the four Ride-or-Die girls. The foreigners had them outmatched, even when Clotilda had an Advanced Roller Golem on her.

The problem was proximity. A fight could start and end within a split second at these levels. They were more than superhuman enough for it.

The girls had screwed up, in Zarian’s opinion. Even if they didn’t need a boy with them, they should’ve had more numbers on their side.

Zarian was going to have to snitch on them. This was something Naomi needed to know and nip in the bud.

There weren’t any other major activities outside of Roland’s raid on the blood raptors, and that one was well under control. So Zarian’s presence became a larger factor around the isolated girls and the foreigners. More spiders gathered stealthily near them.

The one in lead, Clotilda, was a Level 44 with a rare class called Axe Rager. Her best alpha skill was an axe she could summon or stick to her back with no need for support.

The white and red weapon was on her back right now, emitting a wrathful energy. That energy grew more intense with the Slick Cutlass’s persistence.

Clotilda stopped while on a game trail used by beasts with mystical fur. The pelts from those beasts were worth some nice amount of coin.

Zarian imagined the adventurers were on a quest for those particular pelts they could sell for a ransom back in their kingdom, if they could get back to their kingdom. There were multiple factors involved when traveling east, such as the issues surrounding Castle Grimrock and the mountains there.

There was also Clotilda’s temper.

“Shut up!” Clotilda snapped. “Touch us one more time and I’m taking that hand. We’ve got men we’re picking already. We’re not interested in you. Let’s stick to what we agreed on or we’re leaving you on your own.”

I honestly think you should leave now, Zarian thought. Maybe we’ve trained too much patience into the kids.

There was some genuine concern that the well-trained and well-equipped kids could abuse their powers. Gilbert had done all he could to drill some moral aspects when acting with authority.

Gilbert’s not wrong, especially when a girl like Clotilda can fly off the handle. But this is that one time when Clotilda should rage all the way. Hit first, figure it out later.

Oh, well. They couldn’t get it right all the time. Thankfully, Zarian was here as the foreigners’ reactions became less than ideal.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Watch it girl. Our friend here is just a harmless romantic. All you have to do is ignore him. But threatening to cancel when we’ve paid you is pushing it too far.”

That was the foreign woman speaking, a Level 49 Hawk Huntress. There was a mystical avian circling above right now, acting as eyes in the air and as a deadly focal point for the Hawk Huntress’s abilities.

Zarian was certain the Hawk Huntress was rare quality at the very least. However, could she be more than rare? Could she be epic?

Zarian frowned further while still riding on the saddle strapped to Ezda’s back. He cast Void Authority and felt his connection to the void intensify. Then he cast Void Waltz.

Ezda’s next stride took them from a road north of Ride-or-Die Village to a road east of Ride-or-Die Village. Ezda didn’t question it and kept padding forward as his reliable steed.

From here, Zarian’s connection with the local spiders grew stronger. He wanted to be close not to intervene directly, but to try something he’d theorized a few times before. Now was the best time to push the boundaries.

His reasoning was simple.

His spectral spiders were an extension of him. They were a network centered on him. They scaled mainly with Mysticism, but now they scaled partially with Wonder as well.

Mysticism enhanced control of magic and granted greater magical ingenuity. Wonder enhanced supernatural perception, luck, and faith. Combine them together with Basic Aura Manipulation and Zarian had the means to push magic through his spectral spiders even better than before.

He wasn’t yet ready to do anything crazy with the spectral spiders. Maybe one day he would try to get them to do the Void Waltz for him, if he could figure out how.

That was a possibility that was more distant from today.

But he could expand his aura out of his spiders and manipulate things. And wherever his aura manipulation could go, some of his traits could go as well.

Clotilda and her three companions squared off against the seven foreigners. The hawk in the air circled around tightly, preparing to dive in with mystically sharpened talons ready, which put Clotilda and the girls at a disadvantage. They had tunnel vision, unfortunately, and weren’t mindful of the eighth danger above.

“As the current authority here, I’m going to call a severing of our contract,” Clotilda muttered. “No, you will not be getting your payment back. Think of it as our fee for putting up with you to this point and for providing you with a map and written instructions as backup. The information is updated. You can take that to complete your quest or stick it up your arsehole. It’s up to you.”

Clotilda tried to lead her companions around the foreign adventurers.

But the Hawk Huntress revealed her talons, the ones she could grow from her fingers, and the ones her avian companion could use when diving at unsuspecting targets. This would’ve ended up as a bloody fight that might’ve gotten one or more of Zarian’s kiddos killed.

Or maybe had them all killed.

Zarian intervened.

Through his spider.

The one on top of Clotilda’s head.

A dark, uncanny, and dreadful power expanded outward from that lone spider without affecting the young girls. Instead, Zarian’s dreaded aura slammed into the foreigners and had them reeling, eyes flying open, faces paling, their bodies failing them.

The expanding aura reached the diving hawk as well. The bird squawked in surprise and lost control of its flight. The mystical hawk slammed into the frozen ground and knocked itself out.

The Slick Cutlass collapsed onto his knees and prayed to Good Goddess Hopeland. The other men stumbled back, fell onto their bottoms, or curled up into the fetal position.

The Hawk Huntress stood her ground, eyes wide, sweat rolling down her face. Then she let out a defiant scream and tried to fight the fearsome source of the aura, which was the single hidden spider on top of Clotilda’s head.

The Hawk Huntress swung her talon-tipped fingers in a wild attack.

Clotilda’s axe lopped off the huntress’s arm. Then Clotilda smashed the butt of her axe into the woman’s jaw and shattered it.

The huntress fell into the snow and stayed down.

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill her,” said one of the other girls.

“They’re paying customers. I’ll give them that much.” Clotilda reeled in her rage and returned her mystical axe to her back. She looked around before letting out a huff. “It was supposed to be a quick job, milord.”

“You messed up,” Zarian said through a few spiders in the area.

“Are you going to tell Lady Instructor Washington?” Clotilda asked, holding her bearing decently. The other girls weren’t as disciplined and showed some fear.

“What do you think?”

“Fuck,” Clotilda cussed.

“Yup, exactly. Your asses belong to the Lady Instructor. Prep them for when she returns to the village. Now let me get an oorah.”

They gave him his ‘oorah’ even if it was forced before he watched Clotilda and the other three girls hustle back to Ride-or-Die Village. A spectral spider turned around a unit of Self-Sufficient skeletons led by Mighty and had them link up with Clotilda’s reckless girls and escort them back home.

“I’ll be right back, Ezda.” Zarian used Void Waltz and ended up in front of the Slick Cutlass. “Give me your hands.”

The man gasped like a fish out of water. He didn’t hesitate for long as he looked the Madness Wizard up and down.

He offered his hands.

Para took them both at the wrist and ate them.

“Let your friends know that in my village, no means no,” Zarian said. “Especially with my kids.”

“Yes, milord,” the Slick Cutlass said between gritted teeth.

Zarian returned to Ezda, and Para assumed her saddle form. Then Zarian did another sweep through his spider network around Ride-or-Die Village.

Everything was going well enough. A few teenagers got hurt on their patrols from bouts against would-be bandits, dangerous beasts, and invading monsters, but it was nothing terrible. It was all great for character-building and raising their vitality. Everybody was learning how to incorporate their own individual approaches to their rare classes and new freedom, too.

Then Zarian observed a group of foreign adventurers run into kobold skirmishers with one spider on the scene. The nearest patrols were too far away to help.

These foreigners were different. Not like the ones from the Windy Strider Kingdom, who were the most frequent visitors. They looked like people from the Stalwart Paladin Kingdom.

Oh, fun, zealots!

Zarian wondered how they would react if he helped them.

“Ezda, want to feast on some annoying kobolds?” Zarian asked. “Maybe that’ll give you a better feel for your new alignment?”

“Perhaps,” Ezda said huskily. “I don’t yet know how to think of freedom or free evil. The bloodlust is dull. Everything is much duller. But … lighter. I don’t know if I should laugh. Why do I feel this ache I’ve never felt before?”

“So, is that a no?”

“Let us experiment, my alpha. Let us spread … freedom.”

Zarian cast Void Authority. He didn’t need to, but he did so for the sake of practice. Then he cast Void Waltz.

They landed in the middle of the kobold skirmishers with barely a wrinkle in the air, the passage through the void a swift one. Ezda’s giant hyena form swiped down and crushed a kobold under her paw.

She lapped her tongue around her fangs and lips and let out an excited shrill. The kobolds screamed, and Ezda chomped down on them, eating kobolds alive while stepping on them with her big paws.

Clearly, Ezda acted perfectly fine with free evil +1. Or maybe she was fine for now while dishing out cruelty against evil-aligned creatures. Zarian was curious about how she would act in the aftermath or inside the village.

Para joined in on the fun by forming large, far-reaching, bone-tipped tentacles from under the saddle. They whipped out from around Ezda’s body and wrapped up kobolds trying to flee from under the massive gnoll elder.

Together, Ezda and Para ate the kobolds or played with them until they broke like living dolls. The two left a bloody, fleshy mess under them as they rampaged.

From his seat on Ezda’s back, Zarian looked down at the cowering and bloodied adventurers from the Stalwart Paladin Kingdom. He tipped his wizard hat at them.

“Howdy!” Zarian said.

“Who the Hidden Hell are you?” shouted an adventurer. “And why are you riding on a gnoll monster!”

“I’m Zarian Darkrun, lord of Ride-or-Die Village and the guild of the same name,” he answered. “And this isn’t a gnoll monster. This is a gnoll elder of the Blood Prairie Savages. In fact, she’s the strongest gnoll elder, and she’s currently my trusty steed.”

The adventurers gawked and trembled even more. One murmured, “Blood Prairie Savages are supposed to be the strongest gnolls of the continent, perhaps even the strongest of the whole world. How can one man tame an elder to those horrific creatures?”

“Purehome, oh Protecting Mother, watch over us,” said another adventurer.

Then a braver adventurer asked the questions they were all probably wondering. “Are you the one who sparked the civil war of the Eternal Garden Kingdom? The one who is said to be the husband of Evil Goddess Shadowfell? And the one who is the reason behind the darkness that had befallen us four months ago, the apocalypse?”

Zarian shrugged, staying nonchalant on his tentacle-whipping saddle strapped to a gnoll elder’s back while taking his time to answer.

“Yeah, I’m him.”