Winston summoned a shield of food energy in front of him, protecting himself from a spray of Renir’s blood.

  For the second time in just a few minutes, Winston felt something snap in him. And this was worse than last time. He hadn’t known Renir well, but they’d hunted together, and he was a friend of Erynd. The friends of those whom he truly cared for were his friends as well. Last time, he thought he’d known anger, but this was different. This was like losing Roderic all over again. He’d barely known either of them, but their deaths hit him hard.

  His wrath wasn’t all towards the bird, either. Some of it was directed at himself for not protecting him, as illogical as it was. But even more so than that, it was at the System. He was angry at the System for killing those he cared about. For dragging him into this hellish world. For taking his humans, his family, away from him.

  Winston growled. It had taken enough. It would have nothing more. A spear of energy was launched from Winston, stabbing into the alpha’s neck. Just like with the orb of condensed energy earlier, it barely did any damage. But that was enough. The beast glanced down in surprise and winced.

  Erynd and Norra lunged forward, ready to capitalize on Winston’s brief distraction. But Winston was faster. He leaped through the air, eyes devoid of emotion. There was nothing but him and the beast. He activated Mental Manipulation, not even feeling the drain of energy on his already exhausted mind.

  As he flew through the air, time seemed to slow down as he fought a silent war with the alpha. The beast, despite its own anger, was methodical. Waiting for Winston to make the first move. Being as efficient as possible. Conserving as much energy as it could. And that was its mistake. It expected Winston to play its game. It expected him to be logical, but right now, Winston was anything but logical.

  Winston poured everything into the mental attack. It was like a sand castle standing alone against a raging storm. One layer at a time, the castle was stripped of its defenses. The sand held strong for a moment, but the second a single grain fell, the rest came with it. And in the blink of an eye, it was gone. Winston was in the beast's mind.

  Unlike with the normal fringillades, the alpha’s mind didn’t crumble—only the defenses. Winston knew he had limited control over the beast. He couldn’t just order it to kill itself; he didn’t have nearly enough control for that.

  As Winston flew through the air, coming closer and closer to the Acolyte-tier beast, Winston absorbed as much knowledge as possible. He didn’t even have to try. All he’d had to do was break into the beast’s mind, and then the information poured into him. Most of it was incomprehensible, seen through different eyes and a different mind. But some of it was just innate understanding, and that was what Winston took.

  Closing off his mind to the constant downpour of memories and emotions, Winston latched onto one thing. Why was the bird so durable? The other beasts, namely the Nightrender and ursiterra, had been powerful, but Winston and the others had been able to hurt them. The Alpha Fringillade had barely been injured before it had impaled itself. Winston’s most powerful attacks were barely enough to break the skin, and Erynd’s arrows only lodged themselves on the outer layer, not even piercing through.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The bird’s natural defenses weren’t that powerful. Not even close. It was being reinforced by a constant stream of the same energy it attacked with. It harnessed the energy of the sun, Winston realized. Back at its nest, it had a collection of crystals similar to those lodged into the skin of every Caltheran. They sat at the top of a small stone spire, basking in the eternal sunlight.

  Winston’s eyes widened. That explained why the beast had never seemed to run out of energy. Another realization came to Winston. The beast wasn’t to be slain by them. It was meant to be fought at its nest, where contenders could destroy the crystals. But when the System had made all of the powerful beasts automatically attack any Contenders in their territory, it’d left its nest the second it detected them. Looking deeper into its mind, he found that it seldom left the nest, spending most of its time caring for its mate and chicks, only hunting in a small area around it.

  As Winston felt his control waning, with more and more slipping away from him by the moment, he used all of his remaining willpower. He didn’t ask. He didn’t influence. He demanded. And the beast complied.

  Just as Winston was expelled from the alpha’s mind, he forced it to sever its connection to the crystals. While it still had some pent-up energy to attack, it had far from enough to maintain its reinforced body.

  Winston felt time speed up once more as he neared the alpha. He knew what to do now. A razor-sharp blade of energy appeared before him, slashing into the beast’s neck. Unlike before, it pierced the skin. Blood gushed out of the bird’s neck, surprising both the beast and Winston. He hadn’t expected it to be anywhere near this effective. But he wasn’t done yet. The beast was still alive, and he wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead—and it wouldn’t be him.

  Channeling everything he had left, he jabbed the beast again, earning another spout of blood. It still wasn’t enough. He’d used up all of his cards except for one. With a snarl, he clamped his tiny jaws shut around the alpha’s jugular. The unpleasant texture of feathers and the taste of blood filled his mouth, but he didn’t care. His jaw was far too small to clamp down on even half of the bird’s neck, so he just hung there. As he dug his razor teeth into the beast’s neck, he stabbed it with his claws. A few seconds later, after the rest of the party recovered from their shock, they joined in as well.

  [You have killed Alpha Fringillade - Acolyte 3]

  Winston let go of the beast’s neck. Dropping to the forest floor, he just sat. He sat and stared into the distance. The rush of victory was already gone. In fact, there hadn’t even been one in the first place. No matter the outcome, it didn’t change the fact that Renir was dead. Just like Roderic.

  Winston was disgusted with himself. Not because of what he’d done to the beast. No, that had been necessary and justified. He was disgusted by his own thoughts. He wished that the one who died would have been one of the nameless scouts. Just another person that Winston didn’t truly know.

  Winston had tried so hard to learn their names, but he’d only ever remembered Renir—and now he regretted it. It felt like he was tarnishing the few experiences they’d shared by wishing things like this.

  Renir had visited Erynd after the incident with the ursiterra. They had made up and ended up sitting around the fire, trading stories. Winston had been there, too. Renir was kind, and through the stories, Winston got a window straight into his life. A window that, as much as he hated to admit it, he wished he had never gained.

  If only Renir could’ve just been another nameless casualty in the grand scheme of things. Like the countless others that died from the Nightrender.