“I don't think we need to go after them,” Rowland said as Lily directed the direwolf.

  “Trust me, we have to,” Lily said, her hexonomicon in one hand. The time left before dungeon entrapment was forty five hours.

  “What about my sister? Didn't she send you here?”

  “I already told you, it was the angels who sent me.” Lily leaned forward as the direwolf sped up.

  Rowland sighed in resignation. There was no way to appease the terrifying woman in glasses. So he just braced himself behind her as they rode the huge direwolf as if it was a stallion charging into battle.

  They wove their way through the trees that scraped at the sky. Pearl carried them for a few miles before Lily pulled the beast to a halt in a clearing. The girl frowned behind her round rimmed glasses. The ghostly shadows had disappeared.

  Lily hopped off the direwolf and wandered to the middle of the patch of land, surrounded by trees from all sides. If Pearl's phantom scent had led them here then that should've meant two things. One, Rowland's captors were in the vicinity. But that wasn't the case, she knew. If they were, more shadows would have appeared in her and Pearl's eyes. And two, the area was enchanted with the captors’ scents.

  Lily's eyes went wide with excitement. “We are in a hunter's domain!” she said.

  Rowland winced. “You seem quite thrilled to be in a place that has such an ominous name.”

  Lily ignored him and took her satchel off her shoulder. She pulled out her box of potions and set it down on the ground. Rowland got off the wolf and made his way towards the girl curiously. She was browsing through the multiple bottles of various colored liquids in the box. Before Rowland could ask her what they were she pulled out a bottle with a teal colored liquid and a rag of cotton from her pocket.

  She carefully unstoppered the bottle and threaded the rag into the opening until the other end of it was dipping inside the teal liquid. Then with a matchstick she set the rag aflame. “Cover your eyes,” she said and tossed the bottle into the air.

  Rowland didn't resist to comply and covered his eyes as quickly as he could blink. There was an explosion a few metres overhead. When they opened their eyes, some of the trees and the glass leaves around them were smeared with a glowing yellow paint.

  “I was right,” Lily said with a triumphant smile. “This is indeed a hunter's domain.”

  “I still don't know what that is,” Rowland said. “Are you planning on telling me?”

  “Those glowing marks on the trees.” Lily pointed. “Those are illuminating the pheromones left behind by a predatory species. Usually, those aren't visible to the naked eye but the Brackman's varnish brings out its color. Those pheromones serve multiple purposes. They confuse the prey and mark specific territories, like this one.”

  “Those sound like wild animal traits.” Rowland frowned. “The people that abducted me were…well people. Or at least they looked like people.”

  Lily took a thoughtful pause. So they are intelligent, they can fly and they look like humans. That's when it struck her. “I get it now.”

  “What?” Rowland asked warily.

  “You are the prey,” she said.

  “What?!”

  “Yes, it makes complete sense.” She brought a fist down on the palm of her other hand. “They tied you down and laid those traps around you so the other predators won't get you. They marked their territory because they intended to bring you here…so they could cook you and eat you.”

  “That makes no sense at all!” Rowland waved his arms frantically. “They looked very much like people. They were wearing clothes made of woven fabric, not animal hides and they carried guns.”

  Lily gasped at the new information. So they can also craft weapons. “We might be dealing with some really advanced civilization of cannibals here,” she said. “But I don't get it, why did they leave you alone there by the tre–” she paused when it dawned upon her. “Miss Elsa…they must've detected Madam and Miss Elsa,” she mumbled.

  Then she grabbed Rowland by his shoulders and gave him a firm shake. “Rowland, I need to get you battle ready.”

  “B-Battle ready?”

  ****

  Witches relied on two things to perform witchcraft--rituals and gear. The kind of witches that relied on the former to perform witchcraft were called ritualists. The ones who used the latter were called forgers. Then there was a third type that relied on both who were called fuses.

  The type really just boiled down to the kind of malice a witch possessed. Sometimes certain malices could form a perfect affinity for one of the three types of witches. Like in Elsa's case--where knowledge was perfect for performing rituals.

  But malice of wrath wasn't something that could really pull off complex rituals like Elsa could. So Smokewell had trained Lily to become a forger.

  “And forgers make things,” Lily explained to Rowland, brandishing different bottles of potion in her box. “I'm quite strong but pure strength isn't always a benefit. So madam told me to pair my strength with my gear.”

  “I see.” Rowland nodded as he listened to her patiently. Then he said, “Wait, why are you telling me all of this?”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “So that the audience can understand how my powers work.”

  Rowland looked at her, dumfounded. “Audience?”

  “The people that are watching all of this unfold.” Lily pointed at the sky. “The gods and immortal beings that like to put mortals like us in this game called ‘dungeon’ for their entertainment. That's what madam told us at least, the last time we were here.”

  The dumbfounded look hadn't left Rowland's face. “I don't understand a single thing that you are saying.”

  “Patience, Rowland. Patience.” Lily turned back to her box of potions. Then she took a bottle of clear liquid that Rowland almost confused for water. “Drink this.” She thrust the bottle towards him.

  “What is it?” Rowland frowned.

  “It will turn you invisible,” she said.

  “Oh.” The man hesitantly took the bottle and examined the liquid. Then he looked at Lily and said, “Don't you want to drink this too? It would help you sneak up on those people who had captured me.”

  Lily shook her head. “The potion only works on non-users. I brought this along for your sister and another companion of mine who might've needed it.” Then she started packing her box of potions back into her satchel. “Also, even if it worked on me, I wouldn't use it because it's a safety measure. And I think we've already established who the safety is meant for.” She hopped back onto Pearl.

  The potion bottle was still in Rowland's hand. “So, what exactly are we going to do now?”

  Lily pushed back her glasses and said, “Since your captors had tied you to that tree and secured the area with traps, it means they were going to return to take you away. Which means, if we hurry now, we can catch them.”

  Rowland looked at her hesitantly. “Do we really need to go after them?”

  “Yes,” Lily said without hesitation. “Yes we do. Now drink the potion.”

  ****

  When the four captors arrived, the first thing they saw was the large blood leaf tree fallen on the ground and its foliage painting the ground maroon with its pigments. Their leader was a woman named Agatha. She was in her late thirties, standing six feet tall with a lithe body and wiry muscles. She had a rifle slung across her back and a survival knife on her hip. She was the one who had tamed the screechers they rode.

  That had proven her dangerous among her companions. Which meant her authority wasn't something to be questioned and if someone dared, she would have the screechers pick their flesh clean off the bone.

  The screechers were tall and monstrous birds that resembled pterodactyls from the prehistoric times of a planet in another universe. They didn't have real teeth in their mouths but razor sharp serrated beaks and a long tongue. Their wings didn't have any feathers and resembled that of a giant bat’s. The claws on their talons were long and curved and glinted like platinum.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  So there was no doubt that the screechers were dangerous. The only person among the four captors who wasn't afraid of them was Agatha.

  “What the hell happened here?” said Arron, who had been riding the second screecher.

  Him and the other two men, Craig and Wilhelm were examining the broken pieces of the bear trap. Agatha was busy gazing at the tree.

  “Guys, the tree wasn't chopped,” Willhelm said, “It seems like it was uprooted.”

  “What kinda monster would do that?” Craig said.

  Agatha didn't utter a word. She was examining the rope they had used to tie the man with. The ends looked like they were ripped apart. Not sliced through. But ripped.

  And their prey was nowhere to be found. Agatha finally spoke. “There's no blood either. Whatever came and took that pipsqueak away didn't plan to kill him here.”

  “Are you sure it was a wild animal though?” Craig said. “Despite the monstrous strength on display, the job looks kinda clean. No claw marks anywhere, no weird scents left behind. Almost as if it was a human.”

  “What's the point in trying to figure out who stole the pipsqueak?” Willhelm scoffed and kicked a stone. He took his pump action shotgun off his back and leaned on it like a walking cane. “We lost the guy. Which means we'll have to live on animal scraps for another week again.”

  “We can always try tracking them down.” Arron shrugged.

  “Think again, Arron,” Craig said. “You wanna track down someone who can uproot a tree like a blade of grass?”

  Willhelm rolled his eyes and turned to Agatha. “Let's just go back to the base and dig into leftovers from yesterday. We lost him cuz we got greedy and went after that giant shadow thing lumbering by. Serves us right, I guess.” He shrugged.

  Agatha was glaring down at the fallen tree, conflicted about whether to just go back to the base or go looking for the game that they had lost because of their own greed. That's when one of the screechers raised its head and rolled out its long tongue to taste the air. The animal let out a wary growl.

  “Something's coming this way,” Agatha said.

  Everyone went quiet and strained their ears. The sound that they heard first was low and distant. And then it grew louder and closer. It sounded like galloping footsteps. But not quite that of a horse.

  Then they finally saw it. Willhelm straightened himself and lifted his shotgun. “Is that a girl riding a wolf?” he said.

  “Prepare your guns boys,” Agatha said, feeling a bolt of excitement strike her at the view. She pulled her own rifle off her back. “We are gonna have a feast tonight.”

  ****

  “See Pearl, I was right,” Lily said in excitement as she galloped closer to the people by the fallen tree. “The captors would come back to take Rowland.”

  She was about to let out a loud, triumphant laugh but stopped when she noticed the three men and the bald woman preparing their guns and aiming at them. Then there were also the tall, lizard-like birds that screeched and took off towards Lily and Pearl.

  Lily's brows furrowed. “Pearl, I'll take the cannibals. You handle the birds.”

  There was maybe a distance of a few hundred metres between them and the captors when the gunfire began. Lily launched herself off Pearl's back and took cover behind one of the large trees on her left.

  Bullets whizzed past her and punched into the trees around her. Dust and splinters rose in the storm of ammunition. Lily was frowning behind her glasses. “If they are immortal, then why are they using guns and not magic?” she muttered to herself as she unsheathed her ritual knife and infused it with her malice.

  The blade gleamed a bloody red and she dove out into the fray of violence. She had focused her wrath into her limbs, so when she ran, her feet left behind a shockwave with each step. And when any bullets got close to her, she either flicked them off with her bare hands or simply shielded herself with her arms to take the projectiles against the rock solid skin of her arms. Even though the bullets couldn't pierce her, it didn't mean they couldn't hurt her. It was still solid metal punching at her flesh. But thanks to her malice enforced skin, their fatality had been reduced significantly.

  Her indifference to their bullets seemed to throw off the immortal cannibals. They regarded her with shocked faces--which was again weird for an immortal. It was almost as if they were afraid of her killing them.

  Lily made her way straight towards the bald woman who seemed to be their leader since she was standing far behind everyone, barking orders that everyone followed. When the bald woman realized that Lily was headed straight for her, she whipped out a silver whistle and blew into it.

  One of the lizard-like birds that had been busy with Pearl immediately turned their attention to Lily and swooped in at her. Lily launched herself off the ground to meet the bird halfway into the air. The creature flapped its huge wings forward, blowing a brutal tide of air at Lily, throwing her back against a tree.

  The trunk cracked and splintered on impact. Lily winced as a sharp pain erupted through her back. At the same moment, Pearl flinched and faltered in the middle of her fight with the second bird.

  The screecher that had deflected Lily was homing in on her again. Lily grabbed the black doll that she carried with her everywhere. With her ritual knife, she slashed a cut across the doll's neck. There was an explosion of black dust at the moment the bird drew closer, its bladed beak wide open.

  The black motes settled on its tongue and sent it into a frantic fit of breathless wheezing. Lily didn't waste any time on the bird. She rushed at the gunners right away who had been weirdly mesmerized by what they had just witnessed a moment ago.

  Lily headed straight for the bald lady again. The woman aimed her long barrelled gun at her. There was anger in her eyes and her mouth was twisted with fury. The expression would’ve scared anyone. But not Lily. Because at its core, the woman was still just angry. Still just annoyed at having her hunt foiled.

  Whereas Lily wasn't fueled by anger. She was driven by wrath, which was more potent than just annoyance and less clumsier than rage. It was the thing that gave each of Lily's movements their unstoppable force and made her skin impervious to external attacks.

  And maybe the bald lady realized that in the middle of the raging gunfire. That the person they were up against was someone who could actually win a gunfight with a knife.

  Lily spotted that small pinprick of fear in the woman's eyes and then she flung her knife with vicious yet graceful movement of her arm. The second the blade left Lily's hand, it turned invisible in the air.

  There was a loud stabbing sound, a spray of blood amid the storm of bullets and the bald lady went down. Her companions had noticed it but they kept firing at Lily.

  Even with their leader down, this was still a three on one fight. And they had guns. The girl had one knife. It was an unfair fight with the odds visibly in their favor. Of course they were going to win.

  That would be their last hopeful thought before the girl punched a hole through Willhelm's stomach. Craig saw her hand emerging from his back in a spurt of blood and cracking bones.

  And then she turned her bespectacled gaze at him. He knew he had to run. And he did just that. But Lily ignored him and went after Arron instead because Pearl had already handled the big bird and was still in the mood to play and went after Craig.

  The big white direwolf took off running after the man and struck him like an avalanche. Blood and bones splattered in all four directions as the two thousand pound beast came down on the man with all her strength.

  Arron stood frozen in place, watching the death and carnage with horror on his face. He wanted to run but his legs had stopped obeying his brains. And then the next moment, a hand was clenched around his throat. Then he felt his feet dangling in the air.

  The eyes behind the glasses were glaring daggers at him. “W-Why did they all die like that?” Lily asked.

  Despite the violence he had just witnessed this woman inflict and despite the deaths of his partners in crime, Arron found himself saying, “Are you crazy? What else were you expecting?”

  “Aren't you immortal?” She shook him in her grip, as if he was a toy that wasn't working the way he was supposed to.

  “N-No…” he said, finding it hard to breathe as her vice-like fingers tightened on his throat.

  Lily frowned deeply. “What were you going to do to that man you had tied down?”

  Arron's tongue was sticking out of his mouth now. His breath was growing thinner. “F-Food…”

  Lily felt disgust burning her throat. This man was human. And so were his companions. How could a mortal do this to his own fellow species? Lily could've asked him that question. But she didn't.

  Instead she asked. “Where did you all come from?”

  “Our plane…got lost…”

  Lily's fingers sank into the man's throat. Blood dribbled over her knuckles. “Where?”

  Before the last strands of his life snapped and broke, Arron said, “Bermuda…Triangle…”

  ****

  Lily stood alone amidst the blood and corpses, not even slightly out of breath. Then she said, “Aqua, you can come out of the camouflage now.”

  There was a loud thump next to her as if a large creature had hopped off one of the trees. The shape of a big frog materialized next to her. And riding the frog was none other than Rowland.

  “That was…incredible,” he said, taking off the satchel that she had given him for safekeeping and handing it to her.

  Lily gave a quiet hum and moved towards one of the giant birds that was now unconscious.

  “So, what do we do now?” Rowland asked.

  “Check the corpses to see if you can find anything interesting,” Lily said. “I'm going to handle this particular bird here.”

  Rowland gingerly set about doing what she had told him to while Lily took a piece of goatskin parchment and a crowfeather quill from her satchel. She began to lay down a quick sketch of the bird and scribbled several spells on the back of the parchment. Next she pulled a bottle of orange colored liquid from her box of potions and drained it on the bird. She pricked her finger with her ritual knife and smeared it across the sketch of the bird on the parchment.

  She put the parchment on the bird's unconscious body and said, “Mundare.” The bird's body caught fire. Flesh and bones began to dissolve in the flame.

  After several minutes, the bird had disappeared in a pile of ash. Lily crouched and probed inside the burnt residue, as if looking for something. Then her fingers finally grasped it.

  She pulled out a silver, rectangular card with a picture of the dead bird now printed on it. And the name that its creator had given it was: Windcleaver. This particular bird was a female.

  Lily's lips curled into a soft smile. She said, “I'm going to call you Opal.”