Author's note 1:

Welp!

I'm grateful that those who had read the last chapter had a great time! Remember though, we have the wonderful Author-san helping me, putting in his inputs and grammar checking to help me sharpen the iron on the sword you're all ogling with great interest (bad analogy, but whatever).

Author-san: Like a thief in the night, my actions are invisible to untrained eye; I swipe away these chapters, stuff them in my mouth, thoroughly masticate them, and spit them out with a fresh dose of polish. ... Why yes, I'm terrible at analogies too; it's something we have in common. But I digress. Take it away, Gino!

Enjoy!

Booorring.

There was no other way he could describe his current assignment. Sure, guarding meant depleted energies either way, and sure, it required a sense of focus that had to be carefully crafted and put to work. Guarding was like art: You either had the internal preparation for the slow, agonizing part of it, or you had to call it quits at the first sign of absent-mindedness. No ifs, no buts. The world of warriors worked like that.

Yet, nothing stopped him from criticizing it, at the very least.

How could the older warriors stand still for hours and hours without anything to skewer with their spears? Anything to crush with their sledgehammers? Anyone to slice with their swords? Or even anything to eradicate like bad harvest during the Great Winters? Bad weed had to be separated from the rest of the batch, for the natural flow of the wilderness established this law. Anyone not following would meet their rightful end.

Kalop exhaled through his slightly opened maw as his eyes scanned the path he and his supervisor were tasked to watch. Maybe that's why scalies hate us. There's still a fiery spirit inside us all. The grip on his spear tightened. Shifting on one foot and then the other, Kalop ran his tongue on his sharp teeth. His tail swivelled in wide circles, something he was taught as a youngling. A way to kill time.

The ape glanced at his companion. He was a senior member of his species, neither too old nor too young. Life expectancy among primates, not counting wars, went as far as sixty years. Omaib was forty, almost a rare achievement considering the desperate times all citizens of the Dragon Realms faced during the Cursed War. Kalop forced a growl down his throat at the thought of the late Dark Master and the influence he exercised over his kind.

He respected the two Saviors for freeing them. Though his sentiment was just that: respect. Not admiration, for he still felt a good amount of indifference towards the two. One had been another of Malefor's countless pawns, and the other had killed Yarath knew how many fellow comrades throughout his travelings. A dragon capable of mastering all the known elements? Now that was a nice recipe for disaster on the enemy's front lines.

Omaib's hair already sported grey strands anyone could see from a proper distance. It didn't mean the ape couldn't defend himself, though; compared to Kalop, the older ape was stronger, sturdier, and bigger. Omaib carried himself with a powerful and imposing grace, his presence enough for most apes to pause their conversations and gaze at the veteran with deep respect in their sparkling eyes. Omaib grunted a greeting each time this happened before continuing whatever activity he had to complete.

A scar adorned his neck, a small souvenir the purple Savior of the Realms gifted to the old ape. Omaib was the sole survivor of an expedition in the swamps back before the scalies would unite and push the Dark Forces away from their precious lands and cities. The ape had received a rather deep slash, yet he had been able to bandage his wound before gurglingly choking to death on his own blood. Omaib had learned to never underestimate his opponent from then on.

As for Kalop? The young soldier had never witnessed the battlefield first-handed. But he had heard stories from both sides: One group detailed the "job" as meeting Yarath sooner than you'd expect, the other merely supported aggression as a mean to test themselves and prove their worth to their God. The society of Kodak, however, stood in the middle: Never initiate a pointless struggle unless they do it first, in which case anyone is free to bask in the adrenaline of holding a life in your hands and snuffing it out without remorse or mercy.

So there he stood, guarding an empty path leading into the forest, a young ape having just received Yarath's mark from the High Shaman: white paint covering the lower half of his face, two light-blue lines tracing an oblique path from his cheeks down to his upper lips, with two yellow dots splotched around that area as well. Kalop wore Yarath's mark with pride, snorting and puffing his chest out each time the younglings back in Kodak flocked around him like a storm of birds to closely analyze him. Being a young soldier, he entertained himself by telling grandiose stories to the children so as not to crush their simplistic minds and expectations of reality.

It was the middle of the day. The sun shined brightly from the sky, indicating Yarath's favour in their expedition. Too bad the heavy armour Kalop had to bring, combined with the sweltering temperature, was inducing a sweat attack. He slid the palm of his free hand across his purple forehead and snorted in annoyance. Thank Yarath the painting the High Shaman uses is very resilient to temperature. I wonder what ingredients they mix for the ritual?

Sweat and nothing to kill, truly a perfect combination. His hearing caught signs of the birdsong on the trees above them; Kalop momentarily shifted his attention to the branches and spotted a nest. Birds always fascinated him: less intelligent than other species in the Realms by a wide margin, yet capable of surviving multiple extinction-level threats. Their small bodies and ability to fly allowed the tiny preys to flee from any battle unharmed. He couldn't help but let out the smallest of hoots.

"Concentrate on your task, young warrior."

Kalop nearly yelped and backflipped. Instead, his fur puffed up, and he turned to look at the interlocutor. Omaib rested his sword on his shoulder and wore a deadpanned expression at the contained reaction his subordinate almost let out. "Yarath almighty..." He muttered, shaking his head. "You are indeed still a child. You have much to learn before you can consider yourself a true member of our ranks."

"Hey!" Kalop bumped a fist on his chest. "I've got Yarath's mark! I am an adult! And I personally received our King's benediction to be recruited in Kodak's army, so I am a warrior!"

"And yet you're scared of your own shadow." Omaib countered. He ignored the snarl that followed the statement. "A warrior doesn't simply exploit his weapon to take life. Each passing day serves to test your patience, wisdom, and senses. Your tutelage under my guide began today, yet you've already failed the patience trial." Omaib pointed his sword at the empty path. "Never take your eyes off the objective. What if a dragon or a dark creature rapidly approached while you were distracted and I desperately needed your help? I would have died."

"You're stronger than me." Kalop looked away.

The old mammal chuckled. "Every veteran may finally meet their match and perish. Unlike most of our kind back in the War, I learned what it meant to face Yarath's calling and find the strength to delay it." Omaib sneered. "You have failed your second and third lessons."

Third lesson? But he was using his sens-

From behind, hasty footsteps crunching on grass reached his ears, Omaib had already glued his eyes on the cause while Kalop blinked a few times and followed suit.

Two unarmed apes jogged on all fours towards the two guards, wooden baskets full of fruits strapped on their backs. "You missed their calls while speaking to me." Omaib grinned at the now-flustered Kalop. "Always keep your guard up on everything happening around you."

Indeed, he had missed their call. What a disgrace.

The two scavengers beamed, and the one with the fuller basket stepped forward. "The Chieftain was right! There are many fruits growing in these lands. Yarath must have blessed the trees, for it is impossible that life could thrive around swamps otherwise." The scavenger ape snatched two peaches from his basket and offered them to the guards. "Here, you must be greatly suffering under the sun. We have enough of them to extract dozens of seeds; they should be helpful for the farms back in Kodak."

Refreshments! How could he refuse them? Kalop squealed and accepted the peach from the smaller ape. He didn't waste time taking a bite, and immediately the flavour invading his taste buds melted his worries about the infernal heat. The fruit's liquid travelled down his throat, blessing it with its cool touch. He ravenously munched it down, going as far as licking his lips so as to not allow a single drop to be wasted.

Omaib, on the other hand, took his time in savouring his meal. His bites were slow and meticulous, analyzing the peach closely as well as its flavour. He closed his eyes and sighed, a tiny smile spreading across his face as he came to the conclusion that the fruit was exquisite. Omaib passed his tongue over each torrent of juice that entered his mouth, savoring the sweet aroma his taste buds registered. The old ape even took hits of the eaten meal's smell, letting it invade the inside of his nose.

The clear difference between the two apes brought a silent chuckle out of the scavengers.

Omaib wiped the excessive amount of juice on his chin away with the back of his hand and nodded to Kalop. The young mammal tapped his spear three times on the ground. The scavengers snapped to attention and retreated behind their guards' shadows. Kalop and Omaib advanced through the forest at a decent pace, their eyes shifting left, right, and on the front to make sure no one would ambush them.

Meanwhile, the scavengers exploited the two bigger apes as living shields.

If the enemy had arrows, their armour would deflect most projectiles; if the enemy attempted a direct assault, they'd be stopped by Kalop's spear and then quickly finished off with a strike from Omaib's blade. A tactic specifically crafted for tasks like these, where scavengers couldn't defend themselves and had to rely on an escort. Kalop felt proud at the prospect of him being the one tapping the spear on the ground.

It felt... good. Almost as if he was in charge.

He silently wondered, while keeping Omaib's lesson to heart and focusing on protecting the innocent mammals behind him, how he would fair as a Captain. The role of Chieftain was given only to those apes who greatly distinguished themselves both in and out of the battlefield, for political affairs often regarded the Officers too.

Omaib was still a soldier after all of his years of service. If he hadn't been promoted to Captain yet, then it was probable that Kalop would face the same destiny and wait years and years for a promotion. This possibility became almost a factual thesis when one considered that the war with dragons was over, and that Kodak searched for anything but hostility. He guessed that dragons were tired of fighting... because, well, they were tired too.

A familiar terrain eventually unveiled itself to Kalop's eyes. The time for pondering was over. They were almost back at the camp. Their group settled near a river, a natural oasis resting in the swamps' vicinity. The journey back to Kodak would be a bit long, although they had each other, and no one would be left behind. Not if their weapons had anything to say about it.

Kalop and Omaib stopped in front of four bushes. The former tapped his spear three times yet again. The bushes moved, and out of them, four apes emerged and grunted a greeting to the returning party.

"How was the scavenging?" One of them asked, holding a blade in each hand. The others relieved the scavengers of their cargo, letting the smaller apes breathe sighs of relief. Kalop visibly winced at the various POPS! emitted from the apes' spines as they cracked them. Truly, scavengers faced great pressure in their role. They often sacrificed much to serve.

"If you're speaking about any dragon spotting us, then no. We did not encounter them." Kalop bit his lip. "How-uh... Did the Chieftain return? How was his hunt?"

"Chieftain Boris returned a few minutes before you did. Thankfully, he was successful and brought a lot of meat. Our supplies should last until we return home."

Kalop nodded. "That's good to hear." Unless Yarath had cursed the Chieftain, Boris' lack of results in hunts couldn't be explained. Where most Chieftains gloriously lead their troops and returned with dead prey, Boris failed. This induced frustration in the Chieftain, who often vented his anger on anything. If there was one thing Kalop quickly learned, it was to never cross Boris' path when he came back from a hunt.

Luckily for him, the Chieftain had been successful and wouldn't squeeze any of his subordinates' necks. They were still aggressive to the heart, although no longer savages manipulated by a giant scalie with world-ending powers. From the day they were free, the apes had vowed not to bow. Not to cheetahs, not to moles, and most certainly not to dragons. They all had a leader and a new vision of life to follow.

The other apes who didn't wish for peace? They were to be eradicated so they wouldn't crush the fragile and silent peace established between the two species. There was no written contract, no pact; the apes merely found a home as far away as they could from Warfang and the Dragon Lands.

What irony that their home resided near the birthplace of the Purple Dragon himself!

Their group consisted of fourteen apes, including two scavengers who had no knowledge of self-defense. They spotted the biggest primate of them all sitting with the rest of the platoon near a makeshift fire, cooking their hunt. Wooden planks were scattered around the camp in case they ever needed to fuel or relight it. A magical sledgehammer was laid on the ground, close to Boris, pulsing with fire energy.

Boris the Chieftain was tearing the cooked meat apart, swallowing piece after piece like a hungry animal. The other soldiers released ape-like noises of greeting and this made Boris pause. The Chieftain shifted his gaze on the approaching guards. He puffed his chest out and hiccuped. "Was your mission successful?" As he asked that question, Boris pointed to the remaining free space around the campfire.

Omaib and Kalop gladly accepted the offer, practically falling and breathing deeply, their feet sore from standing up for so long. Kalop took the lead in speaking. "Yes, Chieftain. We have baskets full of fruits and seeds." He smiled. "With how erratic the weather has been in the last couple of months, this should help the farmers in Kodak."

A soldier offered a waterskin to Kalop. The ape thanked his kin and greedily drank from the container.

The tents they erected were positioned on both sides of the river, whose gentle flow accompanied the calm atmosphere of the day. It was broken by one of Kalop's comrades speaking up. "So, uh, how are we gonna deal with any scalies we run across? They hate us and we kinda dislike 'em too."

Boris snorted. "You know the rules. Don't engage in a fight unless they attack first, the unarmed ones are to be calmed down and let go, and the warriors need to be pacified without resorting to violence. We are not savages, not anymore. The scalies might hate us still, so if we ever wish to establish proper contacts with them someday we must show we've changed. Understand?"

All apes nodded around the campfire, but the mammal that asked the question also narrowed his eyes. "The last batch we've encountered had that feisty female dragon. She scratched my genitals! How am I gonna ever find a mate if 'little ape' doesn't work?!" The soldier finished his sentence with a loud growl. Many rolled their eyes while others laughed; Boris simply sported a deadpanned expression.

"The greater good of our kind is more important than your genitals." He shrugged, then grinned. "Besides, you might discover that many females like a 'little ape'."

The flustered soldier watched the rest of his comrades hooting loudly, unable to control themselves. Chietain Boris joined them and beat his chest with his fists, grinning toothily. The smaller mammal crossed his arms and looked elsewhere, pouting. "I'm starting to regret ever coming here..." He muttered under his breath.

After the commotion, Chieftain Boris returned serious. He got up from his seat, gaining the attention of the rest of the apes who gazed at the imposing primate. "All right, playtime's over. Here's the deal..." He produced a map from his pockets and opened it, then showed it to all of his subordinates, pointing to each location with a finger. Starting slightly rightward from the center of the map, he traced a possible route going to the north-east. "We are currently here. The dragons have designated this river as 'The Silver River'. To return home we must pass through the swamps themselves, birthplace of the Purple Dragon. We cannot follow the same route we came from; scouts have reported the traitorous kin are increasing their activity in the region. All we have to do is ignore the Valley of Avalar's route."

"We shouldn't encounter much resistance. But if we do, you know the orders." Boris grabbed the giant sledgehammer and ignited it. The flames burned brighter, threatening to incinerate any fool stupid enough to get close to Boris. "Show no mercy to these traitors!"

Boris ended his speech by raising his weapon and planting a fist on his chest, proclaiming: "Glory to Kodak!"

"Glory to Kodak!" The platoon echoed, raising their spears, clubs, or swords as they shouted their war cry into the sky.

Kalop wore a determined expression.

They would get back home. Whatever the cost.

The Swamps...

Home to many creatures from the tamest frogweeds to the dangerous giant bulb spiders and Growths. Mushroom towers were spread across the whole area, acting as a second refuge to the endangered species, a final hope for survival from the lurking predators. A perfectly balanced ecoystem, where preys and predators could co-exist in equal numbers, so that the preys weren't overwhelmed by a single predator, and the predators' source of food didn't exclusively include prey.

Indeed, the predators even killed each other half the time.

The sun weakly glinted through the tall towers, the mushrooms acting as an effective shield, plunging the entire swamp in a brownish spectral ambience.

Kalop's group proceeded, the young ape narrowing his eyes at the calm atmosphere, not convinced at all about their own safety.

In fact, the smell here was much more awful than whatever stench dragons perceived emanating from the primate's bodies. It wasn't their fault they were mammals and sweated from their whole bodies! Besides, it greatly helped them with hunts, tracking a prey down and simply waiting for it to get tired while the liquid flowing down the apes' skin boosted their stamina and lowered their body temperature.

And speaking of stench...

Kalop raised his tail and farted, the gas unleashed being the only sound stretching across the silent path. Omaib sniffed the air and shrugged, unbothered. "Boy, ya should really keep it down with the meat. Don't know what it is 'bout that, but you produce an amount enough to knock down a scalie." Using their old accent from before the end of the Cursed War was a recurring joke among the apes, something to render a part of those dark times a story full of irony to tell children.

"What about Flash? You think he still doesn't appreciate our refined manners?"

"Flash?" Omaib chuckled. "Oh, don't worry. Your fart would be enough to decimate his entire colony." He hummed. "You know, there was this one time-"

A scream echoed throughout the swamp, making the entire expedition stop dead in their tracks. It couldn't have been a wild animal or a resident of the swamps because the scream's tone was deep. Creatures only released screeches and squeals when they were either attacked or killed. So, what had been the cause?

Chieftain Boris snorted. "It came from the north, right where we need to go. Keep your eyes open and your ears on alert! Kalop, Omaib, you stay on the front."

Taking the lead, the two led their group's investigation. They crouched as soon as the path led into an array of bushes, perfect hiding spots to take advantage of. Chieftain Boris, for obvious reasons, remained in the far back. His dimensions did not allow him to stay hidden for very long, not when his footsteps could shake even an entire mountain. Kalop and Omaib raised their hands, the other apes spread to the sides and formed a straight line, peeking from the bushes.

The Followers...

Rogue apes whose ideology stood in contrast to Kalop's faction... The ape bit back a growl. And apparently, they had grown bold enough to dare venture into the swamps. A group of sixteen apes, all warriors, was currently keeping two unknown creatures pinned down. They resembled their kind, although they were mostly furless except for the top of their heads, and they wore strange garments.

One had a green top, strange symbols adorned it. Perhaps they were the creature's tribe marks?

The second had a simple white top. Kalop could see a small pocket near one of its hidden breasts.

While half of the Followers were...

They were...

"Oh, Y-Yarath!" One of Kalop's comrades whispered. He whirled around and retreated further into the bushes. Kalop didn't need to see what he was doing; the sounds were a dead giveaway that he was vomiting his lunch. Kalop himself took deep breaths and diverted his gaze elsewhere so as not to watch the atrocious act unfold.

There was one debate within Kalop's kind regarding a certain subject: consumption of other species.

As long as the prey was non-sentient (or didn't display a high level of intelligence), anyone was free to consume its flesh as they pleased. Infighting and discourse always erupted when it came to higher beings, however. The smaller group proclaimed that if the prey was defeated, then the winner was free to indulge because they had proven to be stronger: 'A prey must never go to waste.' was their motto. The larger group, basically the rest of his kind, was utterly disgusted by the mere idea. Sure, under Malefor they were nothing but animals craving for violence and basking in the adrenaline it procured, but even they had limits.

This went far beyond the line they established. Hell, the unnatural violence displayed, without counting what was happening regarding the creatures' meat, was beyond Kodak's new line of conduct. Throw in how similar the apparent primates being eaten were to Kalop's kind, and you get the picture.

The screams died the moment they showed up, indicating that the creatures had been subjected to such a hideous fate for a while. Their eyes became empty, the spark of life leaving their faces. Kalop closed his eyes to ignore the sickening noises arriving from the Followers consuming their meal and silently prayed. May Yarath grant you safe passage into his realm and eternal life.

The Chieftain of the Followers regarded his subordinates with a detached gaze. He was easily recognizable by his size and the skulls and other such trophies that adorned his chest, presumably to display his skills and inspire fear. He grunted "Aight ye guys! Weh ave to go. Finish yer meal and get yer butts on the road before I smack ya dead!" To emphasize his point, the Chieftain slammed his giant earth hammer on the ground, making it pulsate with energy as a result.

The eating soldiers paused to turn around and look at their Chieftain, blood trickling down their mouths. They licked their maws clean and hooted, snatching their tools from the grass and running away.

When Kodak's forces were sure the Followers went away, they slowly got up on their feet and exited the bushes. Six apes, Chieftain included, covered the area, while Kalop and the others checked the dead creatures to get a proper look at their features. Kalop sidestepped to avoid the blood on the ground and focused only on the faces, he really did not want to look at the opened portions of the body.

They were really primates in nature, just... furless. Furless apes? No one in centuries had ever heard of such a species; not even the original apes themselves. Something caught Kalop's attention: the green thing had a symbol with blue, white and red colours meshed together. It was a rectangle with red and white stripes, but there was a second smaller rectangle in the top left filled with... fifty white stars in total.

"Kalop!"

The young ape shifted his crouched stance to look at his superior. Omaib was offering him something. "Check this out."

The object was still tainted by fresh blood on the upper sides; thankfully, it only obscured what Kalop could only guess to be an ornately detailed drawing of the white creature. There were words scribbled on it, but from the looks of it, it couldn't be ink. The strange card in his hands offered what appeared to be insight on the dead furless ape before them, the words written in the common language. Praise Yarath for Kodak's political moves in the last two years! They began a process of literacy, trying to precisely replicate how dragons often communicated through written messages.

Being very young, Kalop was one of the lucky few working on this issue. Older apes like Omaib would be left as the last batch to be taught how to read and write, for it was better to work on the younger generation, the future of their kind.

Grant Worthington... United States of America... Colorado... Sector Seven?

All unknown words to either him or his comrades. Wherever these furless apes came from, it could have been outside of the Dragon Realms altogether, a far land unknown to every resident. This was something out of their common knowledge.

Chieftain Boris listened to the report and nodded. "We don't have much information on this unknown species. But if there were two of them here, we should expect more to roam the Swamps, or even the Realms." He sighed and gestured at the bodies. "Grant them a prayer and let's move on. There's nothing we can do."

"Sir?" Boris stared Kalop down. The young ape shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the giant ape as he looked up to address him. "If the Followers pushed as far as going into the Swamps, there could be more on the road. I'd like to scout the zone alone and report back."

The Chieftain grumbled for a moment. "Permission granted. Make sure no Followers or creatures will attack us and get back as soon as you can."

Kalop pushed the bloodied card into his pocket (it could be useful later, who knows?) and sheathed his spear on his back. Receiving a nod of approval from Omaib, Kalop crouched on all fours and bolted for the nearest tree. It felt natural to scout the zone using his climbing skill: In the past, his kind had often taken advantage of the terrain to ambush overconfident dragons who thought their flight capabilities would be their key to victory.

Kalop jumped from branch to branch, from tree to tree. The area ahead seemed empty of possible hostile entities.

He stopped on a particular branch and crouched, exploiting his tail to balance his excessive weight over the thin wood.

This section of the swamp didn't possess the same amount of mushroom towers, allowing more light to shine through. Resting under a tree in an otherwise empty space, was apparently another member of that unknown species. He couldn't properly see its face since it was hidden by a hood, and the angle wasn't exactly favorable. Its clothes were even stranger than the previous two: It possessed a green garment that covered its whole body, going even above its neck, equipped with a triangular cutout in the front. From it, grey clothing and brown boots peeked through. It made Kalop wonder why some species liked to hide their feet so much.

The position allowed the entity to be shielded by the sun... along with another creature.

This one was clearly quadrupedal, sporting a long muzzle and tail as dragons do. Unlike the scalies, this animal was covered in fur. It honestly resembled some kind of hybrid between a cheetah and a small dragon.

Though Kalop had to admit, it looked... cute.

Sliding down the tree and using a small mushroom tower to bounce safely on the ground, he unsheated his spear and tip-toed his way to it. Careful not to disturb the either sleeping or unconscious mammal, he nudged the hood with his spear. This creature had more hair than the previous ones: a sizable amount especially accumulated on the chin and cheeks. Its eyes were closed, yet it didn't appear to be sleeping.

There was a giant, black 'tool', now that he spotted it, resting near its ankle. Grabbing it, he was confused by its curious design. If it was supposed to be a club, the small muzzle on the front certainly wouldn't be able to inflict heavy damage. Perhaps a… giant-small-knife to target eyes? Kalop was out of ideas, so he simply put it down.

Glancing at the quadruped companion and confirming it to be unconscious too, he levelled his free hand and touched the unknown mammal's cheek. Its skin was soft, softer than his kind, probably a side effect of the lack of fur. He wondered what advantage could this species receive from shedding their fur...

Suddenly, the entity's eyes snapped open, and Kalop found himself unable to breathe, his spear knocked away a good five meters of distance away from him. He stared at ocean blue eyes watching him. Only after a few seconds did Kalop realize the lack of grass underneath his feet... and a furless hand wrapped around his throat.

The young ape thrashed around, hoping the creature's hold would falter and offer him a chance to escape. It didn't work. Despite his best efforts, Kalop couldn't free himself. How strong was this species?! It didn't look that threatening from far away!

Kalop's mind kicked into overdrive as his lungs started to burn from oxygen deficiency. The world around him darkened more and more, the shapes growing fuzzier and his vision unfocusing. But not the animal's face. No, those two blue eyes continuously pierced right through his soul.

Kalop would have gulped if his predicament had allowed it. Instead, he wracked his brain for any last-ditched effort to this struggle, any last resort that would securely postpone his inevitable meeting with Yarath.

His eyes lit up as an idea popped into his mind. M-my dagger!

Moving his hands around, he frantically checked his pockets for a small dagger Omaib had given him, a backup weapon for safekeeping if he ever lost his spear. Feeling the handle's texture, he gripped it tight and raised it. What happened next would forever remain in his mind for the rest of his life.

He had expected the dagger to plunge into the creature's skin. He had expected it to pierce the meat and be ready to be twisted. He had expected the creature to scream like its kin or, at the very least, to groan from the pain.

CRACK! CLING!

Instead, he realized he was flying through the air as soon as oxygen suddenly resumed flowing into his brain. Kalop shrieked and aimlessly waved his arms around, not having a chance to do anything. He felt the impact on his back... then he comically fell face first on the grass. He raised his gaze when the whole ordeal was over and stumbled back to his feet. "M-mommy?" He asked.

Something inside of him finally snapped, and he clutched his head, shaking his vision into place. "That... was something, alright."

His jaw almost hit the ground as soon as his eyes met the furless ape's. The unknown mammal wore a very confused expression, which turned into fear when their eyes properly met. He (Kalop finally decided that he was a male specimen) was tall, taller than most members of his kind save for the Chieftains. Kalop estimated that, as a soldier, he only reached the guy's pelvis.

But it wasn't the entity itself that induced this reaction from him...

It was the dagger: The blade lay completely shattered in pieces at the furless ape's feet.

Author's note 2:

You know, I don't really know (double use, lmao) if the consumption of flesh thing automatically makes this story an M rated thing, since, you know, I didn't go into too much detail. Hopefully not, since my objective is to generally keep this T rated save for a few scattered scenes.

Anyway! I introduced many words into this chapter: Yarath, Kodak, Shaman etc.

I didn't explain them all, though.. My objective was to show the apes' point of view where they already know a bunch of things the readers simply read and don't understand. A different approach raising questions that will, of course, be answered later on.

And now, a word from our reviewers!

Guest 1: Honoured to be placed in that category! But, this is just the tip of the iceberg, believe me :)

Sir Unknown: Honoured (x2) to receive such attention from someone reviewing some little. I wonder, do you have anything to review about this chapter? 0.0 Stay tuned to find out more!

2017: Thank you!

Guest 2: If you say so. But the majority of other reviewers ain't agreeing with what you're saying. So, I'll continue, thank you.

Plague Doctor 2035: Cliche things are sometimes needed. The beginning are all the same seen tropes, but it's the 'later on' that matters. Sorry if it wasn't your cup of tea, but... well, there ain't much other ways to start a story like this one, XD. Thanks for the rest of the review and I hope you'll stick around for more.

Until next time!

Gino out!