Chapter 90

Luke’s back slammed into the tree hard enough that he felt the wood crack. The whole trunk groaned and shifted, with a few roots popping up out of the ground when it tilted backwards. Stars flashed across his eyes, blinding him, and he did the only thing he could think of. He reached down and grabbed the monster firmly with both hands, prayed he didn’t get a finger bitten off, and threw himself forward to slam it into the ground.

His mace landed next to him with a thump, and as his vision cleared, Luke saw that he had grabbed hold of something that looked sort of like an armor-plated squirrel, except without the tail. Its legs thumped uselessly against the ground and its teeth gnashed while it twisted and squirmed in place to get some meat in its mouth.

Luckily for Luke, he’d managed to grab it right around the neck, and his hand was keeping its jaw forced up and away from him. That didn’t stop its stubby little paws from clawing at him with something sharp and hooked. It was rather like getting attacked by a cat, and about as effective. Once upon a time, he would have been howling in pain. Now, his stamina was so high that it was barely leaving scratches on his arm.

His chest hurt like hell though. Either this thing was insanely fast, or something else had thrown it. Since Luke didn’t sense anything else nearby, and given the speed at which its paws flailed around, he was assuming the speed was all natural. He lifted it up and slammed it back into the ground, which had no noticeable effect on the creature, other than perhaps driving it even further into a wild frenzy.

“What’s going on!” Zea yelled, finally working her way out of her blanket.

“Well it’s not a fucking spider or gremlin or whatever shit-ass prediction System had, I know that much.”

His flashlight clicked on and Zea swept it around their campsite until she found Luke, still struggling to keep a hold on the monster. Her breath caught and she said, “Holy shit, is that an armaril?”

Luke lifted it up off the ground again and grappled with it while it tried to escape. If not for his ridiculous grip strength, it would have long since writhed its way free. Even then, he didn’t trust himself to hold it with one hand. “Do you think you could kill this thing for me?” he said, grunting in pain as it landed a series of lightning-fast kicks against his wrist.

“I don’t know, can you hold it still?”

“I’m trying! Damn thing isn’t that strong, but it’s slippery as fuck.”

Luke carried it over to a tree and held it as far away from him as he could with it pressed against the bark. “You think you can get in there and shank it in the belly or something?”

“I’ll try,” she said, eyeing the wriggling creature. Luke didn’t like the lack of confidence in her expression, but she got her knife out and advanced inside his arms.

The armaril kicked up its attempts to escape to a whole new level, now moving so fast that it was practically vibrating in his hands. “Sooner would be better,” he said.

With a huff, she brought her knife up and jabbed it into the armaril. It let out a loud shrill squeal and sprayed blood all over both of them. Luke caught it all over his arms, but Zea got it right to the face. She gagged and staggered away from them to spit on the ground. “Gods damn it. I will stab that little fucker again.”

Its thrashing became feeble and, before Zea could make good on her promise, its movements stopped completely. “I think it’s dead,” Luke said, still holding on tight until he got the kill notification. When that didn’t come, he added, “Or it’s faking? Maybe you do need to stab it again.”

“Armaril are famous for their durability and speed. Catching one is damn near impossible.”

Apparently recognizing that its attempts to play dead hadn’t worked, the monster shrieked and resumed its vicious clawing and scratching at his arm. “Come stab it again then. This fucking thing is shredding my arm.”

After wiping her eyes clean, Zea scooped the knife back up from where she’d dropped it and stabbed the armaril four more times. It was only after she angled a stab upward that it finally jerked once and died.

[You have assisted in slaying Catapult Amaril (lvl 21). 255 XP awarded.]

“Well, that was an unpleasant wake-up call.”

“Be gentle with the body,” Zea warned when she saw him about to toss it on the ground. “Those things are incredibly valuable.”

“They are? Why?”

“The hides. Those armor plates on its back and head are damn near indestructible.”

“I mean… okay, but it’s not that big.”

“They’re not used for making armor.” Zea’s eyes were sparkling now as she stared at it. “A big problem with enchanting is that your material needs to be strong enough to hold up against the strain of the magic. Amaril hide is just about the best thing you can get without dipping into extremely expensive alchemically forged materials. That thing is probably worth a hundred gold as it, easily twice that if it was properly butchered and prepared.”

“Damn, that’s a lot. But who would we sell it to?”

“Someone would buy that. It would be best to sell it in Sicanti right before we leave. Whoever buys that is going to remember us.” She looked up suddenly. “You’ve got some loose AP, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Take [Butchering], at least rank 1, but rank 2 if you can afford it.”

“Are you sure that’s a good use of AP?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “I guess that depends on how long you want to spend in Sicanti doing odd jobs while we scrape together money. This is our ticket off the continent, but only if we can preserve the hide. Before we can do that, we need to skin the amaril, and trust me, that’s not that easy. The underside is the weakest part, and if this knife wasn’t alchemically enhanced, I would not have been able to pierce those scales.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

He bought the first rank of [Butchering] for 1 AP, then upgraded it to rank 2 for another 3. “Rank 3 is 8 AP. Should I keep going?”

“Yes, and rank 4 if you can.”

Another 8 and then 15 AP later, Luke had his first rank 4 skill. He looked down at the corpse now and absently grabbed the knife Zea had offered him. It wasn’t the ideal tool for the job, the blade being far too long and not really tipped properly, but it would work. Luke laid the body out on a flat rock and got to work.

His hands moved of their own accord, expertly sliding the knife under the edge of the soft scales right where they became thicker, heavier plate, and making a smooth incision. With one hand, he pried the hide back so that he could continue to skin the amaril. A few minutes later, he’d salvaged almost the entire hide. Other than a ruined spot in the belly from Zea’s stabbing and the individual fingers, which lacked armor plates anyway, they were now the proud owners of one amaril hide.

“Do you want the claws too?” he asked. “They’re not that sharp, but they’re just going to go to waste otherwise.”

“No,” she said. “I need a… damn it… here, empty one of these satchels out. I’m going to put a preservation enchantment on that. I think I’ve got everything for that. It won’t be as effective as a nice wooden box, but we’ll pick one up tomorrow.”

They unpacked one of the satchels and stuffed as much of the food as they could in the other one. Zea got to work while Luke held the flashlight, and he knew better than to interrupt her. She used a small pen-looking thing to etch that weird scribbly script into the leather of the satchel, working non-stop for over two hours. Finally, she held the satchel up to him.

Luke gently placed the amaril hide into the satchel, the insides of which now made his hand tingle. Zea closed the satchel, tied it off, and went back to inscribing even more symbols on it. “There, done. Now this can’t be opened without breaking the magic, and everything inside should last ten times as long.”

Finally done, she allowed herself to relax. “This is the find of a lifetime. I can’t believe we just randomly stumbled across one out in the middle of nowhere.”

“I wouldn’t say we stumbled across it,” Luke said, rubbing his chest. It still hurt from where the thing had cannonballed into him, more so than his back from being slammed into the tree. “That thing would have killed me before I even got a good look at it if my stamina wasn’t so high.”

“Oh shit, yeah. How are you feeling?”

“Oh sure, now you ask.”

“I was distracted earlier.”

“I know.”

“It’s a lot of money!” Zea pouted. She moved closer and said, “Here, let me see.”

“It’s fine,” Luke said. “You know you’ve still got blood on your face?”

“Don’t care. Take off your shirt.”

“What?” Luke took a step back.

“Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”

“I told you it’s fine.”

Zea advanced on him, her gaze predatory. “Take it off.”

When Luke didn’t move, she pounced on him and wrapped her legs around his hips. Her hands worked between them to lift the hem of his shirt up and she pulled it up to his armpits. Luke lifted his arms and she stripped it off the rest of the way.

“It’s a bit cold for this, don’t you think?” he said.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, definitely. Your ribs are all intact,” she said as she ran his hands over his chest.

“You know, I thought this was going to be the sexy kind of de-shirting.”

Zea wiggled her hips against him. “I’m sure you did.”

“Uh, is it the sexy kind of de-shirting?”

“Not yet. I want to make sure you’re really fine.”

“This really isn’t doing it for me,” Luke said. “The blood and all. Maybe we should go get cleaned up.”

Zea ran her hands across his back and then stopped with a scowl. She plucked something out of his skin and said, “You’ve got wood splinters in your back still. Here, turn around.”

She dropped back down to her feet and spun him with her hands, then made him sit down so she could pick the splinters out. “They would have popped out on their own, you know?”

“You rely on your high stamina too much. If I clean them out, everything will heal up that much faster.”

“A likely story. You just want an excuse to run your hands all over me.”

“Like I need an excuse.”

That was true enough. Given the circumstances and places they’d found themselves in over the last few weeks, it was remarkable how often they’d gotten frisky. That having been said, receiving medical care was not one of his fetishes, and he truly was still sore from the impact. Thankfully, the amaril had attacked him instead of Zea. It might have killed her in a single shot if it had.

“We got kind of lucky, didn’t we?” he said softly.

“Hell yes, we did. We’re fucking rich now.”

“No, not that. That it didn’t go after you first. Is it irresponsible of me to drag you out here?”

“No,” Zea told him. “Because I’m not your responsibility. I’m older than you are. I make my own choices. Now shut up and be happy that our financial woes are solved.”

“Well, there is that,” he said. “Hey, what are you-”

Her hand snaked down his back and dipped into his waistline. “We’re rich,” she said. “I’m excited. Celebrate with me.”