The Squires moved through the forest in absolute silence, their eyes darting nervously to the shadowed tree line. The deeper they ventured, the tighter their circle grew around the hulking steed at the center.

  Squire Charles now held his sheathed sword in his hand. He kept one hand firmly on its grip, his knuckles pale and palms red by the constant strain. Periodically, a distant howl or low growl echoed from the forest, pushing the men closer together.

  They crossed over tree roots as thick as a man’s height, passed beneath forests of sharp hanging vines, and traversed sections where the shadows seemed to breathe. Their pace slowed, steps dragging as exhaustion set in when suddenly, Charles paused.

  As Aayan was directly behind him, he froze, licking his lips as his hands reached for his sword. "Why did you stop?" he whispered nervously, eyes darting around.

  Charles relaxed his grip on the sword, his shoulders loosening. "I see a fire."

  "A fire?" Ihsan echoed, his head poking around the animal’s body.

  Charles nodded sharply as he stepped forward. "It's probably Knight Müller."

  The Squires followed, their steps quickening. Bilal, trailing behind, glanced nervously over his shoulder. "How do you know?"

  "To the best of my knowledge, no beast in this forest can conjure fire," Squire Charles explained, leaping over an exposed root and landing lightly atop it. He paused, his brow furrowing as he considered. "At least, the quest orders Knight Müller received didn't mention anything about that. But perhaps something has changed."

  Aayan grunted as he struggled up the root, his plump face flushed with exertion. His finger dug into the gnarled bark as he pulled himself over the edge. He collapsed momentarily, catching his breath, before pushing himself to his feet.

  One by one, the squires felt a surge of energy as they scaled the root, the elevation bringing the fire's glow into their line of sight.

  Aayan's stomach grumbled, breaking the somber silence and drawing the attention of the other squires.

  Charles shook his head and began climbing down. "If that glow is indeed from Knight Müller and he says it's safe, we will eat something," he said, much to the men's delight.

  The men pressed onward with renewed vigor and began maneuvering the ridgewalker over the root. After struggling to force the beast to the other side, the men rushed forward, eager for whatever meal they could get.

  The massive trees obstructed their view, leaving the men unable to discern anything beyond the large flames. As they drew closer, their pace slowed, excitement giving way to caution. What if it wasn’t Knight Müller? What would they do? Uncertainty crept into their minds, prompting them to unhook their shields and draw their weapons.

  Moments before stepping from the forest, the Squires exchanged loaded glances and whispered silent prayers. Then, with steeled hearts, they emerged from the trees.

  A wave of sweltering heat greeted them as they entered the clearing, but they barely noticed. Their eyes were locked on the fire at the center.

  It wasn’t the flames that held their attention, but what hung above them—a wolverine. The illumination of the light revealed that the beast was skewered on a spit, slowly roasting as the fire lapped at its charred body.

  They hadn’t seen it from the forest; the dense canopy had hidden it from view. But now, its full, horrifying state lay bare: its skin cracked and split along its body, revealing deep-red muscle beneath. Droplets of rendered fat dripped from the roasting flesh, hissing as they met the roaring flames, sending plumes of thick, greasy smoke into the air.

  "Is that...?" Ihsan muttered, eyes locked on the burning beast.

  "A wolverine," Charles finished the thought, his stomach twisting. His nose wrinkled at the overpowering scent—a harsh mix of burnt hair and sizzling meat.

  Aayan swallowed hard and took a cautious step forward, his wide eyes flitting around the clearing as he raised his shield. Then, suddenly, he froze. His hand slipped from the shield's grip and shot up, fingers trembling as he pointed. "Squire Charles... look."

  Squire Charles half-unsheathed his sword at the alarm in Aayan’s voice. His eyes snapped left, then right, before narrowing.

  A stone’s throw away, lying in a heap, were the lifeless bodies of two more wolverines.

  "More wolverines?" Bilal asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Even for Müller, is it possible to kill so many?"

  "Oh, I assure you it is."

  The voice sent a chill through Charles. Without hesitation, he fully unsheathed his sword and turned sharply, his gaze searching.

  Moments later, his grip slackened. His sword lowered, and he inclined his head. "Knight Müller."

  Müller stood behind the Squires, an easy-going smile plastered across his face. "I'm glad to see you all made it here safely. Honestly, I wasn’t sure of your chances."

  Charles stepped aside, allowing the Knight to pass. "We haven’t been attacked since splitting up from you."

  Müller’s ears perked up. "Really?" He tapped his fingers lightly against his thigh. "I would have thought you'd be swarmed. Three—no, even two wolverines would have been enough."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Charles shook his head. "Apart from some tense nerves, it was an uneventful journey. Nothing whatsoever to report."

  "Hmm." Müller’s gaze drifted, unfocused. "Strange, yet interesting." He licked his lips and smiled. "Quite interesting."

  The men stood at attention, waiting for Knight Müller’s instructions.

  BAYYY!

  Müller’s steed cried out, breaking the silence and yanking him from his thoughts. "Ah, yes." His figure blurred—vanishing—before reappearing beside the ridgewalker. He patted its side, a light smile on his face. "Now I'm glad you survived."

  After inspecting the beast, he nodded and turned to Charles. " There were no injuries. You did well," Müller praised.

  Reaching into a pouch strapped to the creature, he withdrew a candle. Under his men's curious gazes, he walked over to the fire and lit the candle. He then laid the candle on the ground before dusting his hands.

  Bilal stepped forward, eyeing the candle warily. "What is that, Knight Müller?"

  Müller spared him a glance before turning away. "Nothing much. Just an item that repels beast."

  The men froze.

  Aayan let out a nervous chuckle. "What are you talking about, Sir? Something like that exists?"

  Müller nodded. "Yes. A new creation from the Temple—I learned of it just before coming here. If you doubt me, ask Charles."

  Charles answered the questioning gazes of the Squires with a nod. While they stood frozen in shock, his gaze shifted to the roasting wolverine. "You built that yourself, Sir?"

  Squatting beside the fire, Müller dropped something into the flames. "Yes," he replied, carefully drawing his blade across the beast’s charred hide, carving out a piece of meat. "I killed them and decided they'd best serve as a meal."

  He placed the meat in his mouth, closing his eyes as he savored the taste. Then, without turning, he called over his shoulder.

  "Hey."

  The men stiffened.

  "Join me, you all look terrible."

  Aayan, Bilal, and Ihsan exchanged loaded looks. Then, in a flurry of movement, they surged forward.

  They fell upon the wolverine with ravenous hunger, tearing into it with whatever they could—hands, swords, anything. It didn’t matter. Their only thought was to stave off the weakness clawing at their stomachs.

  Müller folded his hands beneath his chin, watching them devour their meal with an amused twinkle in his eye.

  Eventually, they were satisfied, leaning back with content looks on their faces.

  "I assume you're all finished?" Müller asked, scanning the men. "Good." He stood, his gaze shifting to the ridgewalker. "Gather the supplies—we need to take inventory. Bring everything. I don’t care if it's personal."

  "What?" Aayan blurted, torn between staring at Knight Müller and the charring meat. "But I can still... eat."

  "Get up, tubby!" Ihsan grabbed him, ignoring his protests, and hauled him toward the resting ridgewalker. Bilal followed, shaking his head. The beast raised its furry head at their approach, let out a braying cry, then flopped back down.

  The three Squires got to work, unbuckling pouches and satchels strapped to its frame.

  Once finished, they emptied their supplies, gathering everything before trudging over to Knight Müller, faces tinged with regret.

  Müller chuckled at their expressions. "Relax. I'll replace what is used."

  He began rummaging through the supplies, muttering under his breath while taking mental notes.

  Seven water pouches, three strips of jerky, ten throwing knives, and some odds and ends... Müller rubbed his eyes with a sigh. Not much to work with. I can't imagine completing the quest like this.

  His gaze shifted to the wolverines' corpses. We can make more jerky, but what about water?

  "Squire Charles, when was the last time you passed a water source?" he asked abruptly, glancing up.

  Charles folded his arms behind his back. "Nothing since we entered the depths. The last was that stream," he answered tonelessly.

  Müller exhaled sharply, scratching his chin. "I thought so."

  His gaze swept over the Squires, who stood in silence. "We'll push on a little longer. Once our provisions can’t sustain us, we turn back immediately."

  His eyes lingered on Aayan. "That means rationing everything—there's no room for indulgence or waste."

  He ignored the offended look and continued, "We'll move in a tight formation around the ridgewalker. If we're attacked, everyone except Charles focuses on protecting it. He and I will handle everything else."

  "That's all. Reattach the supplies—we leave as soon as possible."

  Müller dismissed the men and turned to the licking flames, his mind still running through his options.

  Perhaps we should cut our losses and leave? It’s the smarter, safer choice. He slowly knelt, bowing his head toward the fire. But I don’t want to leave a bad impression on her. This is the first request she’s given me, and with the length of my indenture, I’d hate to start on the wrong note.

  Straightening his back, he placed his hands on his thighs. Then again, didn’t she mention she has jurisdiction over a small settlement? Maybe they have someone who knows these woods and is competent enough to guide us through them.

  He sighed, closing his eyes. I’ll leave that as a last resort. That’s not how I want to introduce myself to the locals.