Aristomache was hunched over, her steps light and soundless. Beside her were her subordinates, bow in hand and spear on back. They too were silently moving between the trees, careful not to let the slightest sound escape. She glanced to her left, seeing her second, his eyes focused on the heretic brothers close to the top of the hill. Looking to the right, she saw her superior the young mistress Lexia, and His Highness Aster, as well as the second squad covering the right flank.

  They were currently located at the bottom of the hill, stalking their way up ever closer to the heretic brothers. Something that Aristomache found peculiar, however, was that none of the brothers realized that they were being approached. Whatever had caught their attention at the top of the hill, was preventing them from noticing the danger they were in. Feeling her master's gaze upon her, she sent her a quizzical glance.

  The young mistress Lexia discreetly pointed at the brothers, before pointing at the floor. Aristomache nodded and gestured to her second. Once she had his attention, she carefully mimicked the young mistress' gestures, ensuring none of her other subordinates would notice her.

  After a second, understanding dawned upon the young man's face, and he subtly nodded his head. A second later, a snap reverberated within the eerily silent forest, as her second accidentally stepped on a dry branch, alerting the two brothers at the top of the hill. Truly unfortunate, as they were almost upon the brothers, but as squad captain, she had to be flexible.

  The two heretics turned at the sudden noise, and surprise mixed with fear covered their faces. The older one (Telamon she believed) was the first to shake out of his stupor and slapped the younger one (who had to be Herodotos) on the shoulder. "Stop standing there and get us out of here!"

  The two brothers suddenly accelerated backward, disappearing behind the top of the hill. "Get them!" Shouted His Highness Aster, as he charged ahead, half a dozen bronze blades flashing from beneath his belt. The young mistress Lexia cursed and dashed forward while giving orders over her shoulder. "Support His Highness. Encircle the heretics."

  Aristomache gritted her teeth and ran, urging her subordinates to keep up with her. Soon they crested the hill, peering down into the basin. Gasps and shocked breaths rang out all around her, as the huge form of a large winged lizard appeared. Various cuts and gashes crisscrossed across its entire body, and Aristomache could even make out the dried blood that painted its brown scales an even darker shade.

  Currenly, the heretic brothers were floating directly above the winged drake, retreating from His Highness Aster in a straight line. Both the young mistress Lexia and His Highness Aster seemed surprised at the appearance of the winged drake, yet soon His Higness' battle cry resounded within the small basin. "The heretics planned to kill us with this beast! Kill it before it wakes up completely. Capture the heretics!"

  The bronze blades flying beside His Highness parted from him, aimed directly at the vital points of the still half-asleep dragon. Another dozen bronze needles parted from the young mistress' garments and joined the assault upon the winged drake.

  According to legend, the heretic son Inpar gave the killing blow to the drake of the northern mountains with nothing more, than four bronze blades. His Highness sent half a dozen and the young mistress supported with a dozen needles. This was enough to instantly kill the drake told within the founding legends.

  Surprise gripped Aristomache's heart, when the winged drake let out a furious roar releasing an invisible bubble of energy, flinging everything and everyone around it away. The blades lost their marks, digging into the ground or getting swatted out of the air by one of the winged drake's massive paws. Both His Highness and the young mistress were pushed back, disoriented and confused.

  Aristomache as well as her subordinates were swept from their feet, crashing heavily into trees and the forest's undergrowth. The two heretic brothers were flung every which way, one landing on the far side of the basin, and another crashing not far away from her current position.

  Aristomache groaned as she gathered her surroundings. "Status report!" Shouting so, she patted herself down, ensuring she hadn't suffered any grievous injuries. Relieved that all her limbs were intact, she listened to her subordinates rattle off their status. "I'm alright!" "Same here!" "I, I can't move my leg. I think it's broken."

  Aristomache glanced at the last person who spoke, seeing one of her trackers with a pierced leg, a broken branch having been rammed through his right thigh. Aristomache cursed and pointed at her medically most well-trained subordinate (he knew how to wrap a bandage) and barked orders at him. "Take care of him and any others who are wounded. The others, regroup on me!"

  She glanced towards the centre of the basin, where His Highness and the young mistress had just recovered and started sending their bronze weapons at the winged drake. The right flank had recovered and started raining spears and arrows at the beast. The winged drake however seemed to entirely shrug off the attempts at injuring it, only caring about the descendents of Minsol.

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  It seemed this cursed creature had somehow acquired Minsol's powers, similarly to his children, and was using it to deflect and block all the weapons that were flung at him. A bronze knife stabbed toward the winged drake, being blocked by a shield made from all the loose stones scattered at the bottom of the basin. The sword flashed and detonated, scattering the rocks all over the place. Using the opening created by sacrificing a blade, His Highness Aster and the young mistress Lexia sent two blades and a handful of needles past the winged drake's first line of defense.

  It swiped at the blades, knocking needles out of the air, however, the blades slipped past its paws, aimed at the base of its wings, and plunged down, intending to dig into flesh. Just when the blades flashed, as if they would detonate and sever the wings of the drake, the drake once more spread its wings and another powerful pushing force emanated from it, albeit much weaker than the first time, deflecting the two blades and giving the drake the initiative.

  It lunged forward and swiped its claws at Minsol's descendents. Aristomache stopped watching, as a branch snapped behind her. Turning around, she saw a confused Telamon exiting from a bush, clearly disheveled from the first radial blast. The two locked eyes for a second, before Telamon cursed and turned, disappearing quickly into the undergrowth.

  Cursing internally, Aristomache pulled out her spear from her back and shouted at her second. "Take care of the wounded. The rest follow me!" She and five of her subordinates chased after the escaped heretic. Bobbing and weaving between trees and foliage, Aristomache cursed, when suddenly a boulder impacted behind her, crushing the tree trunk with a loud snap, causing it to slowly topple and finally land with a loud crash.

  She glanced in the direction from where the boulder came from and saw that the fight between the winged drake and their two leaders now involved boulders and logs being flung by both parties every which way. Aristomache watched as a tree was uprooted from the ground and used as a club to swing at the winged drake. The drake in turn spit out a hot breath of fire, burning and pushing the log out of the way. A few boulders floated from beside it and were flung at the humans, some of which were flung all around the place.

  Aristomache looked back at the boulder that had narrowly missed her and saw that it had instead grazed one of her subordinates, his unconscious form lying on the floor. She pointed at two of her subordinates and gestured at their fallen comrade. "You two, take him and bring him to the second." She then directed her remaining two subordinates to follow the heretic, who had continued to escape.

  Dodging roots, low foliage, and the occasional boulder, they steadily gained on the heretic. Finally, a boulder landed before the heretic, cutting off his escape route. He turned around and intended to flee back the way he came, yet his escape route was cut off by Aristomache and her two remaining subordinates.

  A grim expression set into Telamons' face, and the young man pulled out a short obsidian knife, entering a combat stance. He briefly glanced to the side uphill, yet that side was too steep for him to use as an escape route. Aristomache raised her hand in an appeasing gesture before her.

  "Easy there, we're not here to fight. I am here, to tell you not to go to the southern city. Now that we have found your trail there is no reason left for the city lord Feidi to keep your father alive. I'm sorry, but it's too late. Head further west and wait until we contact you once more. I don't know what the appearance of this winged drake means, but I imagine it means that this area won't be safe for you. Travel further west away from human lands."

  Both her subordinates gazed at her with bewildered expressions. One of them she had handpicked for her squad, loyal to her and the young mistress. The other was an immigrant from the capital, his allegiance uncertain, but she deeply hoped he would choose wisely. The immigrant pointed his spear in her direction and questioned her with an incredulous voice. "What is the meaning of this captain? Are you trying to commit treason? I'll have to-" Before he could finish his sentence, the spear of her loyal subordinate pierced through his lung, his gurgling coughs resounding within the basin, adding to the cacophony of the battle.

  The young loyal subordinate wore a haunted expression, but Aristomache patted his shoulder. "You did well. Unfortunately, the heretic escaped, killing one of our own in the process." Telamon watched with wary eyes, never letting his knife down. He slowly nodded, before inching his way around the gurgling man on the floor, and once his escape route was clear, turned and ran away.

  Aristomache let out a weary sigh while patting the shoulder of her trusted subordinate once more. Glancing at the main battlefield, she saw the winged drake rear its head, before spitting an intense flame. The flame was aimed at His Highness Aster, and he used his powers to dash to the side, however, the drake narrowed its eyes and the flames suddenly changed trajectory mid-flight, impacting the royal heir squarely across his chest.

  Aristomache cursed heavily. While she would love nothing more personally if that man were to die, however, the consequences of the Queen's firstborn dying while supposedly under the protection of the Zander family would be disastrous. She ran back with her subordinate, reconnecting with her second and the rest of her squad.

  "We need to evacuate His Highness! You three, grab the wounded and return to our last camping grounds. The rest, with me!" Shouting so, she ran down into the basin dodging past fallen trees and boulders. The young mistress was distracting the winged drake, buying them time, but having used up all their bronze weapons she had to rely on flinging trees and boulders while dancing between the drake's talon strikes.

  She arrived with her squad next to the heavily burned Aster. She ordered her men to carefully pick His Highness up and to speedily retreat to their old camping ground. She then rallied the remaining fighters from her squad combined with what was left of the right wing and prepared a volley fire. "Ready, fire!" A dozen spears sailed through the sky, raining down onto the winged drake. This distracted it long enough, for the young mistress to disengage safely. After throwing the volley, Aristomache and the remaining men retreated as quickly as possible. Luckily the winged drake didn't choose to pursue, likely due to its heavy wounds.