A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 687 The Blaze Forward - Part 8

"I can only apologise that we let it get to the point where it started to become a problem," Verdant said. "We should have made greater efforts earlier."

"No, no, it's still not a problem yet, my Lord, rest assured. It was just my intent to warn you before it became one."

"Then your warning is taken well," Verdant said. "We shall be gone for half the day, we suppose. Do not be alarmed when Ser Patrick returns ahead of us – he has other plans."

The gamekeeper glanced at Oliver, unable to hide the look of curiosity, but he nodded all the same. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. Wishing good hunting to the lot of you!"

The same line as he was no doubt contractually obliged to deliver, waving them through the snowy gate with a hand so hairy that it might have been a glove.

Their party had three sledges with them this time. Two of which had come from Oliver's men, and another that Lady Blackthorn had brought herself.

"Just in case," she told them when they'd asked about it. No doubt she meant to use it if her retainers got exhausted, which, to Oliver, seemed practically inevitable.

Holding the standard-issue map in Oliver's hand, he once more went over his route in his head, as they went through the well-trodden snow, further away from the Grand Forest's gate, and the high stone walls that surrounded it for miles around, keeping the monsters in.

Though, for the most part, it wasn't the stone that did that work, but various purple crystals that seemed to repel monsters just as smoke repelled insects.

Oliver's plan was simple. Run ahead of the rest, slay what was in front of them, and then trust them to catch up. He said as much to them, as he made sure of his route.

"You know that, right, Lasha?" He asked. "I won't have time for training. It'll be a disadvantage to you if you were to follow me around – you stand to gain nothing from all the corpse collecting that we plan to do."

The monster sites weren't dotted too far away from each other, so if things were to get truly bad, they reasoned that Oliver would be able to arrive to preemptively put a stop to them degenerating further.

Of course, that wasn't exactly a reasonable hope, in most cases. It would still be a reckless affair. At worst, it might take Oliver five or ten minutes to arrive, sprinting at full pelt. That was more than enough time for a monster to truly decimate their pack.

It was a risk – but they judged it to be an acceptable one. Oliver would drag each body a certain distance down the trails, towards relative safety, when the monster's strength dropped off, and then the others would take over from there. As long as the monsters kept within the respective limits of the map, then it was unlikely that too much could go wrong.

"Right," Oliver said, taking in a breath. He was fully geared up for the occasion – boots, warm socks, a long and thick woollen coat that went down to his knees, and his sword at his waste. All of it was lesser clothing, compared to what he normally wore, but that was only by noble standards. As far as effectiveness at blocking out the cold, they did more than enough.

He slid his boot back behind him in the snow. "I'm going to set off," he declared, feeling like a coiled spring, or an excited dog. The mere act of running uninhibited was an appealing one.

"Right," Jorah said. "We shall follow closely behind, my Lord."

"I wish you speed, my Lord," Verdant said.

"We'll deal with anythin' strange, so don't worry about us," Karesh put in.

"Then, I'm counting on you," he said. "You as well, Blackthorn. You're amongst the strongest here. I'm counting on you to keep anything from going wrong."

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She straightened at the responsibility. "Right!" She declared, like a soldier receiving an order, her eyes hard.