“What was all that about with Skyfall?” I asked once we returned to Whiteclaw’s building.

“He is a professional troublemaker. If it weren’t him, it would be someone else. He will share that wealth with his friends, and they will make sure there are no problems.”

“But won’t other people complain about not getting paid off?”

“Not at the rates I am paying. As for the others, they don’t have the backing or support. Our society functions based on sworn allegiances. I have several beastkin sworn to me, but Skyfall has a couple. That gives him the right to speak.”

“Different. I must ask two more questions. Why fists of food?”

“Because food gives strength to fight. That is why people measure them in fists. Beyond that, I couldn’t say.” ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel⟡fire.net

“And the names of everyone seem different from the beastkin I knew who ended up on the Eldarin Continent.”

“They probably changed their names to leave their past behind and blend in. Happy?”

“Yes, thank you,” I replied.

Whiteclaw shook his head. “Well, you have gotten a taste of our culture. There aren’t many legacies left for us, but the skills we take the most pride in are our stealth and physical fighting.”

“No books survived?”

“The few books left are priceless treasures. You will watch the training that Elder Keeneyes gives her brood of orphans. Learn what you can from that.”

The next day, I sat inside a building quietly watching as the Elder guided the younger beastkin on specific movements and how to use their senses. Whiteclaw surprised me by showing me this, but it was the most basic stuff. I already knew quite a bit from my time at the College and learning from Judy’s father, who was a Professor in charge of teaching Stealth.

“What do you think?”

“Interesting.”

Whiteclaw wasn’t with me, and Elder Keeneyes was giving me intense looks.

“Whoever you are, you aren’t Brownpaw. I knew Brownpaw when he was around,” I didn’t nod or react to that statement. “I don’t know what game Whiteclaw is playing.”

“I’m just curious about how things work around here before I leave.”

“Well, anyone with common sense knows you are an adventurer paying for all that food. An unknown passage into the dungeon?”

“Maybe.”

“Looking for a squire?”

“No.”

“A shame. A shame. Well contemplate the idea. Without training the future generation, what is there to live for?”

I just nodded slowly but didn’t answer the complicated question.

One question I hadn’t been able to get an answer to was why the beastkin used the terms and language of the Eldarin Empire. It was decidedly odd. The more I learned about the beastkin, the more I felt that their entire society was backwards.

Maybe it was because I hadn’t grown up in their culture, but learning about the beastkin showed how humans had lived thousands of years ago. The lack of books and standardized training methods across numerous skills was the fundamental difference. The College of Advancement wasn’t just about getting skill levels, but about a paradigm shift across the entire culture of the Eldarin Continent.

Here, the legacy system of apprentices and squires still existed with the beastkin. But it was a poor system, especially with lower-tier skills. The skills these young beastkin were learning were combat skills.

Combat skills did not help with growing food, crafting, or making society stronger, just the individual. It was one of the few lessons I had picked up from my father. While individuals like my mother may make waves, the countless individuals pushing her upwards supported her ascent.

The equipment, the knowledge, and the lessons from the people before her all helped smooth out bumps in her path to becoming a supreme legend. Once I finished watching, I looked around the settlement.

Most beastkin were mining to extract iron. The iron went through an initial refinement process at the center of the settlement, which I avoided. I could see and sense the despair around most of the beastkin as they tried to eke out their survival from the cold and unforgiving landscape.

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As night approached and weary beastkin made their way back to their homes from the mines, I made my way back to Whiteclaw’s building and where I was staying. He invited me to sit with him at dinner.

“So, what do you think of us?” he asked as we had a stew of potatoes and carrots. There was one piece of hard bread with the stew.

“Struggling,” I answered in one word, and he nodded.

“Life is a struggle. Against the cold. Against each other. Against everything arrayed against us,” Whiteclaw said, sighing heavily

“I don’t understand how you haven’t built back up after so much time,” I replied, and he shook his head. “I know you struggle to have children like elves and dwarves, but even they have bounced back more from the war against the Eldarin Empire than the beastkin.”

“It’s everything. And we have bounced back over time. But each time we try to recover a bit, there is always something dragging us back down. Infighting, roving demons and monsters, a terrible dark season, crop failure. What of you humans? Is life good on your continent? Lots of food? Demons? Infighting?”

“A demon killed my mother,” I replied honestly.

“Ah. There are stories that the human continent is a land of abundance.”

“There is more food, less snow and cold than in this place. But more people just means more problems. There is a continent-wide war going on and other troublemakers,” I replied, thinking of the Dark Cabal.

“It is always nice to think of some place that is better. While I won’t apologize for squeezing you of your Mana cores, I also want to make this place better. For too long, my people looked backwards. Old grudges, old ways of thinking.”

“I plan to leave after they gather the food, and I make the last payment. I doubt I will be back for a long time.”

“Understandable. While I am friendly, almost no one else is. The dark season is approaching as well. Don’t travel during the dark season. The cold or the rare monster might get you.”

“Wouldn’t the cold impact the monsters?”

“There are cold-based monsters out there that can tolerate such an environment. They linger and hide around settlements, picking off beastkin who go looking for iron ore and new veins. We tunnel in that direction to stay warm and mine even during the dark season. But the monsters will follow you once you leave.”

“Do you know their levels or anything else about them?”

“They change. And while they aren’t intelligent, they have a base cunning. Only the wards keep them out. That is part of the danger we endure. If the weather is too bad, we have to choose between freezing or keeping monsters away.”

“And they will follow me,” I said with resignation.

“Most likely. You will probably survive, but you might not. The beastkin will not follow you.”

“I half expect you to betray me. Try to kill and rob me.”

“You are dangerous. What would be the point? I am already taking you for quite a bit. What you have left is not worth the risk.”

“Perhaps in time things will be fixed here and old hatred can be set aside.”

“If only everything were that easy. Anything else you notice or another of your endless questions?”

“How is the food gathering going?”

“The food reserves are being purchased and being moved. A week at most, probably sooner. Once you pay for what you will owe and are gone, I can rest easy.”

“It’s a shame I couldn’t have seen your people in their heyday.”

It really was a shame. The destruction of their civilization had caused the beastkin to lose their long history.

“I would like to think we were the strongest and the best, but we lost. No matter the reason, we lost and must endure. Our glorious empire — nothing but wasteland left.”

“This may be the End of the World, but where there is life there is hope. I like to think that your people can turn things around.”

While they were hostile to humans, it was depressing to see their entire culture and civilization on the brink of collapse.

“Hmm, we endure. Getting back home won’t be easy. You will be back one day.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps I will find another solution to return home.”

“Half a million orange cores for the legacy of the White Fox Clan.”

I paused at the last bit of stew and bread I was eating. I slowly chewed the stew-soaked bread and swallowed.

“That’s quite a bit. What is this legacy’s name and tier?”

I wasn’t that interested, but I would pretend to be, so he thought I would come back and would let me go without hassle. He clearly wanted more Mana cores from me.

He probably thought I was naive or foolish. But my desire to learn about the beastkin was to understand the culture if I needed to blend in and the level of risk, they represented to me.

I had my mother’s legacy and the promise of my father’s. Then, there were soul and ritual skills to learn. I had too many skills. I didn’t need any beastkin legacy.

“Treasure sense, a tier 2 sensory skill.”

“That sounds interesting. Also sounds hard to get and quite unknown.”

“So, are you interested?”

“Yes. Does it help locate natural treasures?”

“Of course. It is the legacy of my White Fox Clan. The issue is that natural treasures are rare and come with certain risks.”

Risks, probably Abnormals. Monsters that broke the standard leveling schema of the dungeon. That was very interesting to know if I ran across one again. There was a high chance of a natural treasure in the area.

“Then when I return, we can speak of this legacy skill.”

I didn’t plan on returning to this place. I could sense desperation and greed. Even if he had to wait several years, he was confident of drawing me back here. The skill was tempting, but the risk of interacting with the beastkin was quite high.

But I had made sure not to lie. I could feel a slight push of a social skill from Whiteclaw. He probably thought I wouldn’t notice. It reminded me of the fact that anyone who wasn’t in charge or nobility with social skills was probably a criminal of some kind.

I wasn’t sure of how Whiteclaw was a criminal beyond dealing with a human, but he clearly operated in a gray area of Beastkin society. He might bribe other beastkin openly, but my understanding of their culture was confusing.

The fact there was no beastkin-related history or etiquette skills should have been the proof that whatever had wiped them out hadn’t even left behind skills. Even the Dwarves and Elves had their own skills as well as several human civilizations. But the beastkin didn’t get recognized by the System at all.

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