Four hours later, when the sun was almost at its highest point, the party found themselves walking down a dirt road. To the group's right was a wide-open plain, and to the left was the tree line of a forest that seemed to go on forever. Three hours ago, they went a few hundred meters into the jungle to find a neat and calm clearing, then they picked some berries. Once their bellies were full, which was easier said than done for a Kobold and their mighty appetite, they were back on the path.  

It was a quiet walk. Not that many words were being spoken or uttered. They were eventually going to be in combat with the dangerous juncea. The only one to really have any experience in life or death combat was Servi.  

The other five have all been in fights with sticks, rocks, or fists, not axe, club, sword, or shield. Even Feral never encountered such a monster like a juncea. He loved to fight and spar, but those were matches in which he knew he wouldn’t die.  

All of them, sans Servi, knew there was a chance they would not make it back to Canary.

“Okay, you see that sign up ahead?” Fisher broke the monotonous silence and stopped walking.  

Squinting, Servi barely made out a big, brown sign with a stylistic bee holding a sword drawn on it.

“That means we’re getting close to their nest. When we get the clearing, we’ll set up camp. Then I’ll go over the strategy.” 

All six nodded, and they continued on.  

Thirty minutes later, they found a small opening in the tree line to their left. Following Fisher, they found a small area where there were no trees. It was almost like it was a natural barrier. The grass was soft and green, with nary a leaf or limb or branch or even a bug. It reminded Servi of the quiet and calm spot where the shiroblooms were at.  

It's only been a month or two, but it feels like it was a year ago.

“Alright. Drop your bags and take a seat,” said Fisher. As the mentor, he remained standing.  

“Does anyone have any experience or any knowledge about juncea?” he asked his class. All six were sitting in the grass. Some had their shields on their arm, and some had them on their back. However, all had their weapons in their hand.  

All of them shook their head, so Fisher began his little lecture by talking about the bees, the juncea.  

“Their sword-like stinger are incredibly sharp and dangerous, able to cut through leather like nothing. In addition, they have dagger-like antennae and razor-sharp blades on the end of their legs. In short, most people believe juncea were bred and created for war. They do, however, have some trouble cutting through metal. And as all of you have metal shields, you should be fine. Remember the training we did.” 

Servi’s mind went back to that moment where she should’ve died for the second, third, and fourth time. Three juncea attacked her, piercing her chest and stomach with their sharp and dangerous sword-like stingers. She wasn’t afraid of them now since she knew she could burn them to a crisp in a great wall of fire or flatten them like paste with Stonehenge, a skill that could bring untold pain and agony to someone like Servi.  

I have the power now. I can’t forget that.  

“Then how are we to attack them? What’s the plan?” Riki asked. He shook lightly. Sure, the Dwarf was older than Servi and Fisher, but Riki was still a Rank 10 member who was about to go up against monsters that were seemingly designed for battle. He was pretty much jumping into the deep end of a pool without learning how to swim. Deep in his mind, and in the minds of everyone else except Servi and Fisher, they were wondering if they would remember their training when shit hits the fan. Fisher's mentees knew, even as inexperienced as they were, that training and fighting in a safe environment were drastically different than doing it in for real. 

And that was something they all wanted. If Riki, Rakkire, Silverado, Desperado, and Feral wanted to grow as a person and a fighter, they had to get down and dirty. They were scared and frightened, but good luck getting them to admit it.

“That’s for you all to decide.” 

“What do you mean?” Servi inquired, and Fisher answered.

“Unless there is a mating ritual going on nearby, a juncea will meet an opposing force with an equal number of allies. Let me explain further. If I were to go up to the nest and wait, one will come out and face me in combat. If I went with four people at my side, then five juncea would come out.” 

“I think I get it," Silverado placed a hand to his silvery-scaley chin. “We should decide if we want to do it as a group of two, three, four, five, or six, right?” 

“That’s right. I’ll be off to the side with Lucem at the ready.  If there's any trouble, then I'll use it and jump right in. I won’t say it’s impossible, but there is a chance to die. At the very least, you can expect to be injured if something goes wrong.” 

“Then if you have to intervene, does that mean we fail?” 

“Both yes and no. Yes, in the sense that you fail at what all of my guards have done in the past. No, in the sense of me not allowing you to compete in the tournament. Pass or fail, you all have my blessing to participate. In fact, I already submitted the applications.  But I’m here to make sure that you all come back alive and in one piece. A juncea is a ferocious beast, and many an overzealous Rank 10 have died by their claws and stingers. But if you can overcome that fear and kill one in combat, I have no doubt that you all will be ready for your Warden careers.” 

NO, it's not fair! How can he speak like that to us now, when he looked like he was about to kill Seka and Seko?! 

Servi felt her breathing increase and rage flashed across her mind, like a volcano ready to erupt. She made the subtlest movement to get up, witnesses be damned, but a single voice froze her in her tracks.

It was Momo. Her adorable face appeared in Servi’s mind, and a voice kept repeating itself over and over again.

“I know you do. I believe in you, too. I know you and all the others will pass this test with flying colors!” 

Dammit, Servi! You need to calm down and think things through. If you did kill Fisher right here, then what? You’d have to kill the other five as well because you know they wouldn’t keep it a secret. Their families would be upset because they would never see them again. And what about Marissa, Mari, and Meri? They would lose a husband and a father.  

Servi took a deep breath in, quietly thanking that nobody noticed it, and kept her eyes on Fisher as he kept talking. It was like something flipped inside of her when her head suddenly started to hurt, and she was calm and collected in the next moment. 

I need to commit to it. I have to. That’s why I was given this power, right? That’s why Itarr reached out to me, right? I have to protect those who can’t defend themselves. Even if it means I have to destroy countless families and kill husbands and daughters and brothers and sisters. Tonight... I’ll do it tonight. I swear it. I can do it, right?

“Now then! You take this time to talk amongst yourselves and figure out how you want to divide this up. It makes no difference to me if you do it in a group or not.  However, if you decide to do it in a group, you all need to contribute an equal amount.” 

“Are we restricted on anything?” Desperado asked.  He tightly gripped the handle of his shield. 

“Only Rank 10 skills may be used. I know some of you are blessed and thus have access to Rank 9 or even Rank 8, but you cannot use them. Anything else?” their instructor answered as he took off his helmet, revealing a brow plastered with sweaty, brown hair.

“Will the juncea just stand by and allow us to carve their dead? They'll attack us, right?” Rakkire wanted to know.

“Good question. The answer is no. These beasts are honorable in that sense. Once a battle begins, they have no interest until it is finished. If one of their own is still standing, then they welcome it back. If it dies, then they don’t care what happens to the body. They won’t jump in to help if one of their own is losing, but they will if an opponent is cheating. So, keep that in mind. Any more questions?” 

How strange. I never knew those monstrous beasts could do anything but kill. Itarr thought. She was strangely quiet for the day, and she didn’t even say good morning to Servi.  Though that could have been because she was already awake when the morning came.

After waiting a moment, Fisher continued. “Alright. You all take a little bit of time to talk it over, and I’ll go gather some berries and hunt for some animals. We’ll have some meat tonight to celebrate!” 

Fisher walked away to go deeper into the forest with a bow slung around his shoulders with a quiver of arrows on his back.

Servi was left alone with her five other mentees as they prepared to talk about their plans for the upcoming battle.

“Does anyone here feel comfortable taking one on solo?” Silverado started the discussion.

Servi and Feral both raised their hands.  

“I believe I could take one on. My shield is tough and strong. I think I just need one good hit to put it down,” Feral said when Desperado asked him to explain his reasoning.

“Same here. If it’s one on one, I’m pretty confident of my chances," that was Servi's short and brief explanation.

“I don’t think I can do it solo. I mean, aren’t you scared?” Silverado asked. Servi stared at his silvery, shaking scales. “Juncea are pretty frightening, and you’re the only one wearing leather armor.” 

“I am, but I also have this shield,” Servi raised her arm and showed it off. The evil eye painted on it stared at her comrades. “I’ll be fine.” 

Rakkire sighed. “If that’s what you want, then you can go solo. Remember, these monsters probably won’t stop even if you beg them to.” 

“I realize that. I’ve never faced a juncea, but I have fought monsters like rats and roaches in the sewers. I know what it’s like to take an attack and feel the pure adrenaline rushing through my body. And I even had an encounter with Black Croc. And I survived,” Servi lied about the first part, but the rest was authentic.  

“Black Croc?!” the two Koena said at the same time. While they hadn't seen it before, they had heard the stories.  

“Did you fight it?!” Rakkire stared at Servi as he waited for an answer.

“You fool, not even a Rank 8 could take it solo. Haven’t you heard the rumors? It’s a miracle that someone hasn't died to it yet," his cousin replied.

Servi shook her head. “I used Lucem and Thunder Snap to frighten it. I don't know why it ran away, but I'm glad it did.  But on the fear front, I know it very well," Servi told the truth about fear. The horror she felt when her hand was cut off, and she had to run for her life was genuine.

“In that case, good luck. You too, Feral," Silver said. He looked to his other three members, and they nodded in agreement.  

“Well then, how about us four?”  

“Sounds good to me," Desperado said to Riki.

Rakkire and Desperado nodded. “Might as well. Hey, do either of you two mind going first?” Rakkire asked Servi and Feral.

“I don’t mind,” said the girl with red eyes. She stared down at her hand, which held her shield and formed a tight fist. 

Am I actually looking forward to getting revenge on those damn things? She smiled lightly and unconsciously placed her free hand on the hilt of her sword.   

“If it’s fine, I will go second,” growled the mighty Kobold. He placed his large hand flat on the surface of his shield.  

Silverado stood up and began to stretch. “Desperado, we need to stretch before a fight. It’d be bad if we suddenly cramped up.”  

Desperado placed his wooden club on the ground and stood up. Following his friend, they performed a series of stretches to loosen up their tight muscles.  

“Aye, cousin?” Riki said. Rakkire and followed Riki over to a spot a few meters away. The green grass crushed underneath their stocky bodies had the chance to breathe for a moment before finding themselves under metal boots.  

The armor and the bucklers the two of them were wearing were entirely made out of metal. A self-respecting Dwarf would be hard-pressed to wear leather when metal could be both tougher and lighter. But that wasn’t all. The armor they wore was actually forged by their own hands. It was a test from their father, and they passed with flying colors.  

Sure, it was crude and a bit deformed in some areas, but what it lacked aesthetically, it made it up for in toughness. The metal heads of their axes were made from a piece of mythril they had found some years ago. Both of their fathers worked in tandem to make their weapons and shields. They didn’t have any fancying markings, nor was the wood used to make the handles of the axes anything special. But it had the joy and love of their families, their blessing, behind it.  

Servi watched with calm eyes as the two Dwarves took a stance. Riki raised his shield arm and slammed into his cousin’s shield, who promptly did the same. The noise of metal bashing and clanging against metal became background noise for the next five minutes.  

“Why are they doing that?” Servi asked.  She had no idea what the two Dwarves were up to.

“I’ve heard of some Dwarves and Kobolds who do a type of 'ritual' to get themselves ready. Perhaps this is it?” spoke Silverado.  

“It is,” Feral explained. “In my village, there were two Dwarves who worked the village forge. This is called enerurgi. They would perform this before every hunt.” 

“How interesting…” Servi put her hand to her chin as she stared. Riki brought his shield hand back, Rakkire did the same, and they both put all their energy into one final slam.  

The noise produced by the final slam was so loud that it forced every bird within 300 meters to scatter like ants.  The sky, what little they saw through the thick, brown branches and leafy, green leaves, became filled with scores of red and blue and other colorful avian animals.  

“Are you two finished?” Desperado asked with a hint of annoyance. He had his club in both hands as he dodged an imaginary enemy.

“Aye.” 

“We’re done.” 

“Good. I’m pretty sure you scared away all the animals,” Desperado sat down on the ground. Silverado followed him. 

“Maybe, but it’s a Dwarven traditional. I don’t regret it,” Riki replied. “Traditions that don’t hurt anyone deserves to be kept.” 

Desperado went to respond back but was interrupted by the noise of the nearby underbrush being crushed. Turning around, he saw a familiar man in black armor.  

“Have you all decided?" Fisher asked. He held both hands out while chanting, and the corpse of a deer appeared. It had two arrow wounds in its neck. He sat it on the ground and retrieved a carving knife before getting to work. With a gruesome sound, the silver blade pierced the dead skin. Blood oozed as the knife slithered down, cutting the brown fur from the body it used to keep warm.

Fisher wasn’t getting enjoyment from doing this. In fact, if he could help it, he’d rather eat fruits and vegetables. But that wasn’t an option. He knew a Kobold needed meat to keep up their strength.  

If I were the old Fisher, I’d forced them to eat nothing but berries. But I’m not.  

“We have,” Riki said, staring at Fisher. He glanced up for a moment, but his hands continued skinning and dressing.  

“I'll be going first by myself," Servi announced.

That's not really a surprise. Servi is hiding something, and that something is what makes her more powerful than me... I can feel it.

“Then it’ll be me," Feral growled.

That’s not a surprise either. With Feral's physical strength, he shouldn't have any trouble.

“Then the rest of us will go together as four,” Silverado explained.

Considering their skills, that’s probably for the better. But I need to make sure of something.  

“I see. In party-based combat, there has to be an agreed-upon leader to prevent any confusion. Have you decided on one?”

Servi and Feral turned to the group of four, who quickly whispered amongst themselves as they huddled together.  

“I didn’t even think of that," Silverado and Desperado said, their voices echoing together.

“Neither did I,” Riki hung his head in shame.  

“How about this? Who here has been in the most fights? That experience could be used interchangeably with being a leader, right? I'll start.  I've sparred a bit with my father, but that was it,” Rakkire said.

“I guess that kinda makes sense. I’ve been in a few fights over the years, but I’ve never fought a monster to the death," Silverado confessed.

“Same here,” added Desperado. 

“And here. I've sparred against my dad a few times, but it wasn't anything major," Riki said.  Clearly, they weren't getting anywhere fast, so Silverado decided to change the criteria around.

“Hmm... What about any leading experience?" asked the silver Koena. He crossed his arms and held up a hand.

“Nope, but my cousin does."

"I led a small camping trip into the mountains where we grew up,” said Riki’s cousin. “But there was no fighting, just camping, and that was about fifteen years ago.” 

“I don’t have any experience," Desperado admitted.

“I, too, have led a camping trip. It was about six years ago, but I don’t think that’s enough experience to declare me the leader,” said Silverado. He broke off from the huddle and glanced at Fisher, whose armored hands were covered in blood. He was hard at work skinning and preparing the deer.  

“How about we watch Servi and Feral fight? Then we can learn how the juncea move and act. Whoever thinks they can take control after watching the two fights can be the party leader. Hmm?” Silverado made a good point. He received three nods in return, then they broke off from the huddle.  

Fisher turned his head towards the group of four who would brave the encounter together as he stacked the square cuts of meat on the green grass, turning it bloody. “Who’s the leader?” he asked.  A moment later, the food disappeared inside his Dimensional Storage.

“We’ve decided to see Servi and Feral fight first, then we’ll decide.” 

Fisher nodded. “That’s fair,” he finished dressing the deer, stored the rest of the carcass inside his Dimensional Storage, and stood up. A moment later, water began to fall from the sky in a neat, straight line. Putting his hands and carving knife under it, he washed the blood away before storing the knife.  

“If you’re thirsty, drink up. If you have any prayers, say them. We’ll leave in five minutes.”