The pack of shrikes fell in behind Kyle and the alpha as they dashed through the canyonlands. The sunk below the horizon, the red rock illuminated by the crimson light of Ignition as they sped across the landscape. While Kyle didn’t strictly need the skill to keep pace, he wanted to have the boost in power available should he need to make a quick escape. C.H.A.D.D. faithfully kept its map in view, showing ever-increasing complexity of the canyon patterns.

  The shrikes didn’t show a single sign of hesitation as they covered ground, each step the alpha took heavy with purpose and conviction. Kyle felt like he was following a flock of homing pigeons, and he marveled at their instinctive sense of direction. The shrikes were far more complex than he’d initially assumed, a lesson he planned on taking with him from Er’Mithren. D Grades weren’t just simple creatures, and the existence of C Grade variants made that even more true.

  [DR. MAYHEW, I AM DETECTING THE PRESENCE OF MORE C GRADE WARDS AHEAD.]

  As C.H.A.D.D. spoke, a segment of the map took on an opaque tone. The drone’s voice was quiet, and Kyle used Synaptic Barbs to gauge any reactions from the nearby shrikes. Not seeing any, he responded quietly. “Do these wards feel like the same make from the village?”

  [YES, DR. MAYHEW.]

  Kyle nodded. They were close, and in just a few short minutes, he would be in the nest of the C Grade shrike matriarch. He steeled himself for what was to come. While he truly didn’t sense any malice from the alpha, there was a chance that would change. Still, the opportunity was exciting. He was hopeful that treating the sick shrikes would be personally fruitful, and with some luck, he’d be able to get some directions to get back to the Resistance.

  Depending on the number of shrikes that needed treatment, he expected to only need a few days before he could turn his attention back to his travels. If he was able to get even a clear direction, he was confident in crossing the distance using Ignition. His sustainable travel speed was impressive, even if it would be a bit painful after a while.

  The alpha turned a corner, and Kyle nearly ran into it as it slowed. He came to a stop, eyes widening as he looked at the canyon wall ahead. The wall was made of the same red stone, a sheer cliff face. That is, except for the massive slice through the middle. It looked like a colossal knife had been taken to the wall, carving a deep gouge through the stone and into the ground below.

  He activated Identify on reflex, looking at both sides of the wall. Runic inscriptions blazed on it, removing any doubt about their origins. If anything, these were even more powerful than those at the village, unsurprising given the C Grade nearby fueling them with mana.

  As they watched, the shrike alpha took slow steps toward the fissure, letting out a chirp that echoed through the canyons. Another chirp followed soon after, and the alpha turned to look at Kyle before turning and walking past the wards. The other shrikes followed suit.

  “Are you ready, C.H.A.D.D.?” Kyle whispered.

  [I AM, DR. MAYHEW.]

  The moment they stepped past the wards, Kyle felt the telltale aura of a C Grade wash over him. Auric Perception warned him incredibly dense, powerful mana lying in wait near the back of the ravine. Yet, despite the force of the presence, something about it rang hollow to Kyle. At first, he chalked it up to his near-death experience with Zierlan and the Progenitor. As he reflected, however, that didn’t feel quite right.

  Even when he compared this presence to that of the Scourge, it felt like it lacked a certain depth. Despite the inherent danger any C Grade posed, he didn’t feel overwhelmed like he had before. Instead, he walked forward confidently as he followed the shrike alpha deeper into their nest.

  C.H.A.D.D.’s map highlighted a handful more packs led by alphas in the canyon complex, some nestled deep inside caves, while others preferred to rest under the stars. As they got closer, the drone started highlighting certain groups of shrikes with different patterns.

  [THESE SHRIKES ARE CARRYING SIGNIFICANT MARKS OF THE MANA PLAGUE, DR. MAYHEW. I CAN ALSO DETECT ASPECTS OF THE DISPERSING PARTICLES FROM DEEPER WITHIN.]

  “Thank you, C.H.A.D.D. How many are infected?” Kyle asked.

  [AT THIS TIME IT LOOKS AS THOUGH THERE ARE APPROXIMATELY 27 INFECTED TO THE POINT OF SEVERE DAMAGE, WITH 2 OF THOSE BEING SHRIKE ALPHAS. ADDITIONAL INFECTED COULD INCREASE THAT AMOUNT BY A DOZEN OR MORE, THOUGH I AM NOT DETECTING SIGNIFICANT IMPACT TO THOSE INDIVIDUALS AT THIS TIME.]

  Kyle nodded absentmindedly as he looked at the scans. Fewer to treat than the goblins, and his patients, if they could be called such, were all in D Grade. With him being able to borrow their energy more freely, it should be more than possible to treat 10 to 12 shrikes each day. Still plenty of time to meet the deadlines, Kyle thought, reviewing the timeline. Convincing D’Oillelat to leave was still a hurdle he’d have to overcome, but he shoved that to the back of his mind. For now, he was here to help the shrikes.

  The alpha who was guiding him let out another loud chirp, and Kyle snapped his thoughts back to the present. Go in. Meet her. Help.

  Kyle felt a hint of stress and concern in the shrike’s thoughts, the others also moving off to the side. He nodded to the shrike, sending a simple message in response. I will. Thank you. The shrike chirped once more, and he stepped past it to meet the C Grade waiting beyond.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  He and C.H.A.D.D. walked in silence for a minute, the pressure of the shrike matriarch growing more powerful with each passing moment. Finally, at the end of the ravine, Kyle saw her. She was lying down, belly and chin on the stone as one piercing yellow eye watched Kyle. The other eye was gone, a nasty scar trailing from the top of her skull down to her jaw.

  The Matriarch was massive, likely 7 or 8 meters tall when standing upright. Her scales were a pallid green, lacking the vibrance of many of the younger shrikes he’d seen. Broken spikes lined her back, though even the cracked remains of the once-brilliant spines gave off an aura of sharpness. She was covered from head to toe in vicious scars, a testament to a lifetime of conflict and struggle. Her left arm was missing, though her right bore a massive curved blade, nearly 3 meters in length all on its own.

  Her bulk shifted as her thick, therapod-like legs lifted her, talons digging into the stone below as if it was sand. As she stood, Kyle got a good look at more scars crossing her body. No, not scars, Kyle realized. Runes. Kyle activated Identify, taking a better look at the gigantic shrike. While there were certainly remnants of countless battles, hundreds of complex runic formations had been carved into the Matriarch’s body. He felt a rising anger at the sight. Is this how the Beastmasters treated their charges? Kyle wondered. Many of the runic inscriptions seemed inert, though a pattern on her chest lit up before his skill, familiar energy gently pulsing out as it mixed with her aura. And that’s the connection to the pipes.

  While Kyle looked the Matriarch over, she was silently taking his measure. Finally, she let out a deep exhale, her one eye seeming to sharpen in focus. So, you are the kin-slayer. Her voice rumbled in his thoughts, carrying with it a memory. He saw a trio of shrikes enjoying their meal as one suddenly fell dead; then his vision shifted to the larger pack attacking Varleez, before the final image from the perspective of an alpha encased in stone having its armor ripped away while Kyle launched a final attack.

  He steeled himself as he met the Matriarch’s eyes. I am. I was asked here to help, so I came. Kyle had no idea how to send memories to the Matriarch, but he called to mind his understanding of the mana plague, the pipes, and the goblin village. If I can help all of you, I will.

  She let out a snort, lowering her massive head to be level with Kyle. He saw pain in here eye, a deep weariness that pervaded her next thoughts. I am tired, kin-slayer. I do not trust you. I do not want you here. I do not have a choice. In slaying my descendants, you have demonstrated that you are uniquely suited to the task of treating this abominable plague. Do what you can for my hatchlings, and then return. You will be rewarded.

  The words boomed through Kyle’s mind, and he felt the hurt behind them. Unbidden, he saw the last few years of decay for the shrikes in the area. For the first time, he realized why he hadn’t seen any newborn shrikes in the nest. He felt the deep sorrow, and understood what the Matriarch needed. He gave her a nod. I will do what I can.

  He backed away slowly, not turning his back on the colossal shrike, even when she settled back in to lie down. The situation was both simpler and more complex than he’d thought. His hope was that the Matriarch was maintaining a connection to the pipes out of some sense of loyalty to the former Beastmaster, not that they were connected through sigils carved into her flesh. Disrupting the runes should be theoretically possible, though he would need to find a method that would be effective enough to damage them without the Matriarch treating it as an attack.

  Of course, that problem was for after he’d figured out a way to treat the ailing shrike population. “C.H.A.D.D., can you create a triage order for me? Tier 1 and tier 2, with a separate list for any on tier 3.”

  The drone’s map lit up as the shrikes most in need of treatment were circled, and Kyle began his rounds of examination. While he wasn’t ready to begin treating right away, he wanted to get a treatment plan put together for the shrikes most in need of care. From there, he would try to get a quick nap, and then start the process.

  Over an hour later, Kyle was resting with his back to the canyon wall, eyes closed as he tried to get what rest he could. Of the tier 1 shrikes, only 2 looked to be particularly problematic, with blockages in the mana network near the base of the skull. The others should be simple, with internal damage near internal organs more easily mitigated through Healing Impetus.

  The next day he got to work, priming each patient with Healing Impetus before attacking the blockage with Parasitic Resonance. He pulled his own mana back, along with the majority of the excess mana flowing through each shrike, then gave another quick Healing Impetus to the impacted areas.

  The alphas leading each pack watched him carefully, each staying nearby as Kyle treated their packmates. Their comfort grew over the next 2 days as Kyle continued his ministrations, the apex predators showing him a softer side he’d never have expected to see. They brought him strips of various plants, sliced from nearby plants, and he graciously accepted them, even if they were inedible. That is to say, C.H.A.D.D. accepted them in Kyle’s stead, gladly archiving any samples brought their way.

  Finally, on the third day, Kyle finished treating the last infected shrike, the blockage in the mana network not even fully formed. Looking at the alpha waiting nearby, Kyle nodded, sending a mental nudge. Done.

  This shrike was larger than the one that led him to the ravine, and it responded with a sound reminiscent of rumbling gravel. Good. Thanks. Happy.

  Its words seemed less sophisticated than the others, but Kyle was glad to have helped. Just as he was about to ask about visiting the Matriarch, a mental command crashed into him. Your work is complete, kin-slayer. Come, that we may exchange words, and put this matter to rest once and for all.

  Kyle waved his goodbye to the shrike alpha, trepidation mixing with his anticipation. Despite all the mana he’d drained, his Adaptive Anatomy wasn’t complete. From what he could tell from the Matriarch, she had an idea about most of the shrikes on Er’Mithren. If her orders to leave him be stood, he had no intention of killing shrikes unwilling to fight back. Maybe she’ll be willing to negotiate letting me drain mana until I get the upgrade? Kyle thought, considering his options. It was a better outcome than leaving with nothing, though timing was beginning to become an issue. If he wasn’t thoughtful, he’d miss his window.

  Approaching the Matriarch’s spot at the end of the ravine, Kyle stopped in place as she slowly rose from her lying position, looking at him with her one good eye. You have done well, kin-slayer. Now, it is time to tear out the root of the corruption. Prove yourself worthy, and let me rest once and for all.

  The sigils cause that much discomfort? Kyle asked, examining the exposed runic formation on her chest.

  No, she thought at him. But my time has come. You will slay me, and send me to my rest.