Chapter 150: It makes me sick

The rabbits exchanged a long, hesitant look. The young boy looked at the feathers and let out a small, muffled sob. Finally, the eldest looked up at me, seeing the sincerity in my eyes.

“The fowl your… mate… brought back,” he started, his voice barely a whisper. “They were not wild. They are a specific breed of sacrifice raised under our care. We raise them with our finest so they are fat and heavy.”

Ah, it was no wonder they tasted so good.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“We are weak creatures so we can do nothing when our safety is threatened. And that’s why we simply have a quota we must meet for the ones who ’protect’ us. With those two gone, we are short on what we must offer this time around. If the tribute is not full when the moon reaches its peak…” He trailed off, his eyes wide with terror. “Our tribe will be in trouble. They won’t just take the birds. They’ll take us.”

I felt a cold prickle of guilt settle in my stomach. Damar hadn’t just hunted for dinner; he’d accidentally stolen the ’protection money’ meant to keep this tribe safe from a much nastier predator.

Gosh, I didn’t think such a thing was going on in this world as well.

I looked at Damar, but his emerald eyes were firm. There wasn’t even a single flicker or a trace of regret about what he had done. To a predator, if it moved and it wasn’t a person, it was food.

I guess I should be glad he did not suddenly find their children and mistake them for wild bunnies.

Ah, that would be terrible.

But something burdens me. What beastmen were using rabbits to fill up their own bellies?

They’re just being thugs, exploiting weak creatures.

I know it’s the law of the jungle that the weak have to bow to the strong, but this is just nasty, and I can’t let it slide, especially since, because of us, two of the rabbits would be used to substitute the fowls that were short of.

“Who are you paying this tribute to?” I asked, my jaw tightening. “Who is threatening your tribe over a couple of birds?”

A visible shiver ran down the eldest rabbit’s spine, starting at the tips of his long ears and traveling all the way to his heels.

The others huddled closer together, their eyes darting toward the darkest parts of the forest as if the mere mention of the name would summon a demon.

“The Stone-Martens,” he whispered, the words sounding like a curse.

Huh?

Stone what?

“They are a pack of vicious, bloodthirsty beastmen. They are small, but they are faster than the wind and their claws are so sharp and dangerous.”

“They don’t just kill to eat,” the young boy added, his voice trembling so much it was hard to understand. “They kill because they like the sound of the screaming. They tell us that as long as we provide the ’Feast of the Moon,’ they will stay in the high crags and leave our burrows alone. But if the count is wrong… even by one bird…”

The adult rabbit-man gripped his staff until his knuckles turned white. “They are ruthless. They consider the Silent Reach their playground and us their… their larder. If they show up tomorrow and find two fowls missing, they will claim it as an insult. They’ll use it as an excuse to raid the nursery.”

My eyes widened and then I felt a low, vibrating growl start in Fenric’s chest.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“It makes me sick.” He said. “They’re definitely evil if they enjoy raiding nurseries. And I will destroy them.” His eyes gleamed with disgust and hatred.

He was angry, his blood boiled and then I remembered Fenric was a beast warrior. And one of the roles of a beast warrior is to rid the beastworld of worries in the places they step their feet.

And that’s why only the best of the best, the strong ones, get to be beast warriors.

They need not just strength but knowledge.

That’s why Kaelor is traveling around in his quest to become a beast warrior.

“So,” I said, my voice cold. “These Martens take your hard-earned food and threaten your children, all because they’re ’fast’?”

“There are many,” the rabbit insisted. “And they are masters of the trees. No one can catch them.”

No one, huh?

I looked at Fenric and Damar. One was a snow tiger who could crush a boulder with a swipe, and the other was a silver serpent who moved with the silence of a shadow. If anyone could handle a pack of arrogant weasels, it was them.

Besides, we owed these rabbits. We had eaten their peace of mind for dinner. We might as well get rid of their troubles altogether.

“Well,” I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off my legs. “It looks like we have a debt to pay. We’re the reason your tribute is short, so we’re going to be the ones to fix it.”

“What?” the rabbit-man gasped. “You… you can’t! You’ll be killed!”

I shared a look with Fenric, who was already cracking his knuckles with a predatory smirk, and then with Damar, who looked ready to rip a few pieces of flesh to pieces.

“Trust me,” I said, looking back at the terrified rabbits. “The Stone-Martens have never met a ’snake’ and a ’tiger’ that’s why they act so high and mighty. And if they have, well, they’ve never met ones like my mate so they’re in trouble if they think they can handle this.”

I hoped this was enough to alleviate their worries, but it wasn’t.

“Why don’t you lead us to this Flat Rock where they reside? I think it’s time your ’protectors’ learned what a real predator looks like.”

I could see the conflict warring behind their wide, liquid eyes. They didn’t look relieved; they looked like they were watching a second, even larger disaster unfold right in front of them.

To them, the Stone-martens were a nightmare they knew how to survive by being subservient. We, on the other hand, were a total unknown—predators who had just ’offered’ to help by starting a war on their doorstep.

The eldest rabbit-man stepped back, his ears twitching nervously toward the forest path.

“We… we appreciate the spirit of the offer,” he stammered, his gaze flickering toward Fenric’s claws and then Damar’s cold, emerald eyes. “But if you fail… or if you leave after the fight… the Stone-martens will return. And they will take their anger out on our kits. To you, this is a night’s scuffle. But to us, it is the end of our tribe.”

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