They reached the site of the Burrows without too much difficulty. Cleaning up after the griffon had been easier than expected as well. The fallen members joined them within an hour or so, brought by a courier. They were sheepish as they reclaimed their dropped gear and asked after the monster. Jerik had caught them up to speed on the battle, leaving out the fear he’d felt when the griffin had grabbed him. Their eyes were wide as he explained everything, marveling out loud at the impressive description of how Nicholas had dealt the killing blow.

Nicholas and the research crew had dismembered the griffon’s corpse, gathering as much materials as they could. By the end of it there was nothing but a pile of bones, which Nicholas insisted on keeping. With the research crew’s help, they dried and stored the bones in the back of the wagon, which was quite full now. Jerik frowned thoughtfully as he saw that. There was no room to put its head once all was said and done.

“Really wish we had a toad,” he’d remarked to Morgan. “How the hell are we going to bring this all back? There’s still a lot of monsters left, and we’ll have to stow those materials.”

“We can always make camp and process what we have,” was her suggestion. But Jerik knew from past experience how long that process would take. In the end, he’d emptied the cart of the lesser materials, and sent a few of the platoon’s front squad to sell them back in Zenken. It meant that he lost three of his fighting force for the rest of the trip, but it was a worthy cost in his eyes. Within the hour, they’d sent him a message, telling him that the bulk materials had earned them just over eighty thousand points on Market Street.

Now they were at the Burrows, and after nearly an hour of defensive action and another two hours of going into the burrows themselves, they’d flushed out the worst of the monsters. Even as they began to set up a small camp, he could see the surviving monsters fleeing the area, moving away to whatever hideout they’d inevitably use. He smirked at the thought that they might expect the humans to chase after them. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards.

The builders that had accompanied them went to work quickly. He was in awe of their teamwork and efficiency as he watched them beginning to make the first of the buildings that would constitute the outpost. In less than thirty minutes, the skilled constructors had put up the frame of the first building. In another half hour, they’d finished it.

“If people could build at this speed back in the real world, construction would be so fast,” he’d remarked. The workers had laughed at that, pleased, as all master craftsmen were, at compliments to their work.

Jerik and his platoon had provided security while the buildings were put up. Everyone beside the research crew did their part in patrolling and standing guard, as they had a large area to cover. Morgan moved constantly around the campsite, checking that everyone had what they needed; refilling ammo reserves, bringing gear to and from the research crew for repair. The rest of the day passed in a long blur of work, tired muscles, and exhaustion after their march.

As night drew closer, the builders set to work on finally erecting the defenses. They put up thick wooden walls all around the outpost, which measured nearly five hundred meters across. Six buildings of various sizes clustered along the path, walls to protect them, and a primitive kind of moat circling the wall to slow down approaching monsters. Eight hours later, you cold almost believe that no monsters had ever lived in this exact spot.

“They work fast,” Nicholas commented, towards the end of the night, right as they were told it was safe to leave their post. He’d spent the last two hours sitting alert beside Jerik, silently watching the darkening horizon for any sign of approaching monsters. But none had come. Now they stumbled blearily back into the safety of the walls, pausing to watch the simple bridge spanning the moat being pulled in behind them.

Jerik made a muted noise of agreement, too tired to talk much. The one part of life in Menora that constantly reminded him it wasn’t a game was the exhaustion. You still had to maintain the basic necessities in Menora, including sleeping and eating. Of course, you couldn’t die, but hunger and exhaustion still had very real negative effects that were best to avoid.

“Let’s get some food,” he said, his mind on the hunger part of it. Sleep could come soon, but for now he was starving. Nicholas agreed enthusiastically, so they moved towards the largest of the buildings, a combined mess hall and resting area.

“Welcome,” one of the civilians who’d helped with the construction said, his grin wide and welcoming, “to the Smoke Hut.”

“You’ve already named it?” Jerik asked the man, pausing just before the door. “And after us?”

The use of the word Smoke hadn’t escaped him. Nor did the obsequious smile the man offered him. He gave a little bob of his head. “Of course! I hope that’s okay with you. It’s our way of showing appreciation, after all.”

Jerik gave a noncommittal grunt in lieu of an actual response, and stepped inside. The platoon had already gathered before them, and they called out a happy welcome at the sight of their commander and Nicholas. The young swordsman grinned at the energy inside the room, and even Jerik couldn’t help a small smirk forming. Food was laid out on a huge table, and everyone was eating and drinking with gusto.

“Come joins us boss!” One of them shouted, eliciting laughter from the others. “A toast to the commander!”

They all echoed the cry, lifting their tankards and mugs. Jerik shook his head and joined them, sitting at the empty seat at the head of the table. Morgan was on his left side, lounging in her chair with a glass of wine. Benji and Katrina were on his right, devouring what looked like their third plate each. Benji seemed especially giggly under the influence of the beer she was drinking, and gave him a broad grin, batting her eyelashes. Within seconds a plate towering with food was placed before him, and he tucked in without a word.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. He ate his fill, and, with the encouragement of Benji, knocked back a few mugs of sweet ale. It had been brought by the workers. The temporary owner of the tavern announced proudly that he’d distilled the swill himself. He was filled with pride from the compliments of the platoon as they congratulated him and asked for more.

“It is good,” Jerik said, draining the last drops of his third mug, then pushing his chair back. “I think I’ll turn in now. Where are we setting up the tents, Morgan?”

She’d opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could speak, the tavern owner cut in. “You don’t have to sleep outside, Commander Jerik. We’ve got rooms ready upstairs. You can pick whatever one you want.”

“Very well,” he said, too tired to discuss it much. “The rest of you stay out of trouble, and get plenty of sleep. We’re setting out first thing tomorrow.”

He stumbled slightly as he rose to his feet, and Benji moved quickly to support him. Between the leg injury he’d taken, the exhaustion, and several tankards of the sweet ale, he was unsteady on his feet. She grinned at him as she put one of his arms around her shoulder, and started to guide him to the stairs. He quickly pulled free.

“Thanks, but I can manage,” he said. “Just dead-tired.”

“Before you go,” Morgan said, appearing on his other side. She gave Benji a small frown. “Give us a moment.”

Benji moved away with a shrug, going up the stairs. Jerik watched her go, wondering what that had been about, then focused as Morgan shoved a tablet under his nose. He took it, seeing her feed brought up. “What am I looking at?”

“The knowledge on the griffon was added to the codex,” she pointed with one finger. “Nicholas is registered as its killer.”

“Right,” he said slowly. This didn’t come as a surprise to him. “That’s how it works. What’s so important that you had to interrupt me?”

Her eyebrows contracted slightly, but she didn’t reply, choosing to brush past his short reply. “Well, we already have three people wanting to buy the trophy.”

Understanding dawned in his brain, and he understood. “Why aren’t they asking Nicholas?”

“He’s said that he’s giving the trophy to you. He doesn’t want it.”

“So they want to buy it from me. How much?”

“The highest offer is thirty thousand.”

“That’s it?” Jerik didn’t know much about how trophies worked, but to him it was just a decoration. Still, the more he thought about it, the more he disliked the idea. “No. Even if that’s a fair price for it, I’m not selling it.”

His answer seemed to surprise her. “I would have thought you’d be interested in earning points as quickly as possible. Why do you care about keeping a trophy?”

“It’s not about having a trophy to show off,” he said, shifting his feet. The ale was starting to really hit him now, and he had trouble focusing. “Think about what it means to the platoon. It was our first real challenge.”

“And?”

“I’m going to put it up in our base,” he said. “So they can remember. They’re not only the first group to kill a griffon, they’re the only one. That’ll help with inspiration.”

Her eyebrows shot up at that, and despite her slight irritation, she seemed impressed. “You picked up on that fast. How’d you know that would be so important?”

“It’s obvious. Humans like celebrating their achievements, and permanent proof helps.”

She smirked as she took her tablet back, turning the screen off. “Alright then. Guess you don’t need my help with that from now on. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As she moved away, he saw her eyes glanced towards the stairs, and again, she frowned. Just for a moment, her mask of calm indifference slid away, and she looked irritated. Jerik stared after her, curious. What was her problem with Benji? Was it the lack of impact she’d had during the fight with the griffon? Somehow he doubted it. Benji was highly skilled, and she’d already proved her worth. Shrugging the thought away, he made his slow way up the stairs, waving in response as the platoon collectively wished him a good night.

He chose the first open room he found, fairly stomping inside. Bleary with tiredness, he nearly didn’t notice that Benji was in the room already. He stopped in his tracks, his brain seeming to jam. She was standing beside a comfortable-looking bed, clothed in nothing but her underwear. He hurriedly stepped back, turning away, but he’d already memorized the sight of her pale skin against the light blue fabric, and the surprising curve of her hips on the petite form.

“Sorry!” he said hurriedly, already on his hurried way out. “Thought the room was empty!”

“Wait!” She called after him. Despite his nervousness, he paused in the doorway, and looked back. She was flushed at his surprise appearance, but she offered him a smile, and made no move to hide herself from his eyes. She took a deep breath, then spoke. “I knew you’d pick the first room. Come in, and close the door behind you.”