"I'm not sure I catch your meaning, Sir Edmond. What do you mean by that?"
"I meant one of you should come along as a guide; it would be easier that way. Don't worry, I'll take good care of whoever accompanies us."
"I suppose that would be fine. Do you have any preference as to who will join you?"
Edmond gave the question some thought and glanced around the room. "A guy would be best, seeing as you all don't wear any clothes."
Damien sat quietly, breaking the acorn the little girl had given him. He took the time to think about what was happening. Essentially, this demi-human named Scrat was trying to use him. There was no way he would align with someone he believed had the power to take over his country and turn his own people into slaves.
He had to be absolutely certain that they would lose, and he suspected Scrat was using this opportunity to eliminate his enemy. This spoke to the level of confidence he had in the shamans. The people in front of him posed no threat to them. However, from his experience, those with the least amount of power are often the most cunning.
Something didn't sit right with him; it wasn't the demi-humans exactly, but how the war was proceeding. The very nature of the conflict seemed almost too political.
On one side were Edmond and that girl Élise, and on the other side were the king, his generals, the shamans, and the demi-humans. The side he was on felt almost too isolated.
Then there was the virus that no one seemed to know anything about. He needed to figure out what was going on, then flip this war between giants to where he stood at the top… or he could remain in the shadows until he had the power to fight among them.
In a way, he had what he needed; the problem was the risk that came with it.
Soon after, a male demi-human entered the room and approached them.
"This is Timothy. He'll be accompanying you on your journey if you'll have him. He knows Beastopia like no other."
"It's a pleasure to be traveling with you all," Timothy said, bowing his head politely.
They all left Sciurus Village soon after. With Timothy as their guide, they prepared for battle and followed him to where the White-Fang tribe was located. They lived in dens dug from holes in the giant cave-like structures in the ground.
From a distance, it looked like a giant anthill, with holes dug out to form entrances. As soon as they got close, a loud howl rang out through the air. The inhabitants exited their dens, descending the hill in a wild frenzy of howls and growls.
"Werewolves," Damien muttered when he caught sight of them. He was reminded of a legend from his home world, as that was the best way to describe these demi-humans.
Following Edmond's orders, the soldiers calmly aimed their weapons at the demi-humans charging toward them. The firing of their muskets produced a melancholy symphony through the forest.
A lot of the demi-humans were savagely ripped apart as the magical energy from the muskets collided with them. It was akin to stepping on a landmine, with bodies—minced bones, flesh, and blood—raining from the sky.
Some skillfully dodged their attacks, while other mages simply missed their mark. The sight of their dead comrades didn't seem to affect the demi-humans; they continued their relentless approach, closing in quickly.
Damien stood close to his four-man unit, readying his weapon as the demi-humans advanced. They attacked with untamed ferocity, clawing, scratching, and biting, limbs being ripped off as if they were nothing.
Damien and Elizabeth moved to the front of the group to cover Von and Darrion while they assisted from behind. A particularly large demi-human with reddish-brown fur turned its attention to Damien after savagely ripping out the throat of one of the mage soldiers.
It charged at him with unparalleled speed, but as expected of a race that acted like wild animals, it went for his throat like a real jackass. All Damien needed to do was pivot at the last moment and decapitate it without breaking a sweat.
Another demi-human attacked, this time coming in from below. It kept its body low and thrust upward, clawing at his midsection. Instead of dodging the attack, Damien decided to block it, holding his sword with one hand while reaching for his dagger with the other.
It was a little trick magicians called misdirection. Seeing Damien reaching for his dagger, the demi-human leaped back, creating the perfect distance for Von to blow its head off with his musket.
The blast splattered blood and pieces of brain onto Damien's face. He sheathed his sword and pulled out a red silk handkerchief he always carried, along with a water bottle made of snakeskin. He dampened the handkerchief with water and promptly began cleaning his face.
The sight enraged Elizabeth, but she was too engrossed in her own battle to do anything about it. Von just chuckled at the sight.
Another demi-human, shorter and a bit more nimble, saw his act of cleaning his face mid-battle as an act of disrespect and charged at him. Damien calmly unsheathed his sword and slung it in an upward thrust from the ground. The sword sent dust and rubble flying at the demi-human, obscuring its sight.
This move gave him enough time to create distance, but not before launching another attack of his own. He threw his dagger at the demi-human, embedding it in his shoulders. The demi-human leaped into the air toward him, claws bared at his face. Damien dodged the attack, but the demi-human followed up with another strike in quick succession.
This demi-human possessed incredible speed, far greater than his own, but its movements were starting to dull. The poison coated on Damien's dagger was beginning to take effect. This poison was Damien's own special recipe, made from herbs he had conducted hundreds of experiments on.
First, it attacked the nervous system, leading to paralysis and causing the victim to slowly lose control of their muscles, including those responsible for breathing. Then it caused the blood to clot abnormally, leading to organ failure due to blocked blood vessels.
But before any of that could happen, the moment the demi-human began to slow, Damien beheaded it.
His skill hadn't gone unrecognized by his 4 man unit. Their shock was evident on their faces. The sight before them was so unbelievable. A human with no magical ability using petty tricks and skillful swordsmanship to beat opponents that weren't just faster but stronger than he was.