The first thing that Bridget and Phatagin noticed as they exited the Lippity Dungeon was that Charlemagne was nowhere to be seen. The second thing they realized was that there was no longer a miasma of radiation hanging over the area like a thick fog.

  Our leader must have drained the entire area when he empowered himself in the Dungeon, Phatagin noted as they searched for the enormous rooster.

  Yeah, that’s interesting and all, Bridget responded, but wasn’t it nighttime when we entered the Dungeon? Why is the sun up?

  I imagine that our Class Evolution took longer than we anticipated. We can’t assume that ours took the same amount of time as Charlemagne’s.

  Despite being on high alert, the pair chatted as they searched the area for Charlemagne. They finally spotted him a few minutes later, standing atop the enormous pile of rubble that used to be the headquarters of the National Assembly. He was staring at the sky.

  Boss, there you are, Bridget sighed with relief. We were worried that the canines had captured you.

  Bawk, Charlemagne responded without looking away from whatever it was he was focused on.

  I am afraid that I don’t understand. Something is up where? Phatagin asked.

  Bawk.

  Must be another powerful bird, Bridget answered somewhat flippantly.

  Bawk, the rooster rebutted.

  Well, whatever it is, let’s maybe focus on getting away from here, since we’re still alive, the mosquito suggested. You can stare at the sky when we’re safely away. Right, Phatagin?

  I am of a similar mind. We should take to the air and plan our next move from there, the pangolin agreed.

  Charlemagne continued to stare off into space for some time, giving no indication that he had heard the request of his Party members. Then he shook his head as if to clear it and looked to the north. Without warning, he took off like an arrow.

  Bawk! he called back to the others, who had been caught completely off guard.

  “There’s no way that we can keep up with him!” Bridget buzzed as she began to follow Charlemagne, pushing her wings to their breaking points.

  “There is no need,” Phatagin noted as he pushed past her, his ability to manipulate the very forces of nature proving superior to Bridget’s enhanced flight. “Remember the Party Upgrade Token?”

  The mosquito focused her attention onto her mental image of Charlemagne. It was no surprise that he was still moving in a straight line toward whatever he had sensed. What was surprising, however, was the speed at which he was moving.

  I didn’t know that anything could move that fast, she sent over the Party chat.

  Classic Charlemagne behavior, Phatagin responded with a chuckle.

  Charlemagne felt a strange pressure as the surrounding air buffeted him around a bit. He pushed himself harder, but the pressure only continued to mount as he flew through the air. His incredible field of vision, which was a bit over 300 degrees, was sufficient to allow him to see the incredible wake of his passage. The trees themselves were pushed back by the overpressure wave as he zoomed across the land.

  As the rooster accelerated north, he noticed a few humans here and there. When they noticed him, mostly after he had already streaked past, they screamed in terror and fled. Charlemagne didn’t have the time to hunt them, nor did they seem strong enough to bother with later. He was hunting stronger prey.

  As the rooster neared his destination, he detected another human’s scent and mana signature straight ahead. It seemed familiar, but Charlemagne couldn’t recall where exactly he had seen it before. It was strong, strong enough that the rooster had a short flashback to his battle with Raul Sanchez. However, the rooster settled down a moment later as he realized how much stronger he had grown since he had fought the supremely powerful human. With his current abilities, fighting ten Rauls at once wouldn’t even make him break a sweat. With renewed confidence, Charlemagne landed at the edge of an abandoned soccer field and strode out to meet the pack that had just recently been hunting him.

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  There were eight of the canines waiting for him, arranged in a semicircle. Their leader, an enormous Azawakh with red fur, had her front right paw on the neck of a supine human.

  “Greetings, Champion,” she barked. “I am Sirius the Red Fang, Champion of Dog. Believe it or not, I wish there to be peace between us.”

  “Bawk,” the rooster said, stepping forward and preparing to attack.

  “As Dog as my witness, I offer you a thirty-day truce. I will not attack you if you do not attack me, and you will not attack me unless I attack you.”

  “Bawk?” Charlemagne demanded, taking another step forward.

  “Ah, that was…just business. Unfortunate, messy business, but nothing personal. I had a Quest ordering me to kill you. Now I have a Quest ordering me to cooperate with you. I even brought you a little gift here: this human. I know how much you love terrorizing them before you kill them. So, before we get down to a serious discussion, why don’t you play for a bit?”

  “Bawk,” the rooster denied, looking more closely at the mana signature of the downed human. He knew somehow that he had seen it before. It was a testament to the pack’s strength that they had been able to subdue him without any visible injuries, but that wasn’t a surprise to Charlemagne. He knew firsthand just how effective the canines could be when they worked together.

  “Him? He’s a traitor to humankind, so Dog commanded that we hunt him down. It was my idea to give him to you as a peace offering. Should I let him up? Make him run so that you can chase him down? How do you want to do it?”

  “Bawk.”

  Sirius stepped back and growled in the man’s ear. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and wiped the dust off of his ruined clothing. Then, for no reason, he began to laugh.

  “Oh, Brett, you absolute scumbag. I escaped your rigged Quest once, so what do you do? You have man’s best friend hunt me down and present me to the very rooster you once demanded I kill. Are you running a divine comedy from your lofty throne? But, no matter, once I die, I will join my children, and that is enough for me. Come, chicken, end my life quickly.”

  “Hold your miserable tongue, you cur,” growled a male dog only a bit smaller than Sirius herself.

  Charlemagne realized how he knew the man: this was the hunter who had turned away instead of attacking him when he was in the process of evolving his Ember Core.

  “Bawk,” he demanded.

  “I didn’t attack you because you were already dying, and there was enough mana going wild inside your body to level a small city. I don’t know what you are, or why you are humanity’s enemy, but I want to join you if you’ll have me. I hold no love for my own kind. And, as you can see, my deity holds no love for me either.”

  “What did I say?” the dog barked, incensed by the casual blasphemy.

  “Peace, Scourge,” the Red Fang hissed. “The rooster can do with him as he wishes.”

  The smaller dog pulled his ears back and lowered himself at the mild chastisement of his superior.

  “Bawk,” the rooster answered.

  “I am Ndiogou Gueye, the Blind Hunter,” the man answered. “I can help you find strong prey, and I know the ways of your enemies. I will offer you my service until my death if you will help me gain vengeance against the remaining animals who killed my family. If not, then I will accept death by your beak.”

  Before anyone could answer, a large, round, green shape burst onto the soccer field. It slammed into the ground right next to the rooster, sending stray bits of grass and dirt clods flying, before unfurling. Phatagin bounded upright and assumed what could have passed as a combat-ready stance, had he not been a pangolin. As it was, he looked rather silly.

  Against my better judgment, I shall aid you in the upcoming battle, the pangolin swore.

  Guys, what battle? Wait for meeeeeee, Bridget called through the Party chat.

  “So, you already have allies?” the human asked. “How interesting. I had assumed that Parties would almost always be composed of members of the same species. It is good to know that this is not the case.”

  “Of course it’s possible, human,” Sirius interjected, “but please, everyone, listen to me. I have very important news to share.”

  “Bawk?” Charlemagne asked.

  “What? How…how did you know it was going to be about the giant asteroid that is falling toward Earth? Did your deity tell you?”

  “Bawk,” the rooster answered.

  “You sensed it approaching? How high is your Sense Mana skill?” the Red Fang gasped before adding, No, no, don’t answer. That was very rude of me. One should never ask another their Skill levels unless they are in a Party or have agreed to share information.”

  “A giant asteroid is headed toward the Earth?” Ndiogou asked. As he spoke, a strange look passed over his face.

  “I’m here!” Bridget announced as she dropped from the sky to hover a bit above and behind Charlemagne’s head. “What did I miss?”

  “Another companion?” Sirius asked. “I am amazed that you found not one, but two others crazy enough to work with you. No, three if you include the broken human here.”

  “A giant asteroid is heading toward Earth!” Ndiogou yelled with a laugh. “Come, then, and wipe the planet clean of the filth that is humanity!”

  Everyone present pretended that the human had not just invited certain doom upon them all.

  “I have received a divine Quest from Dog,” Sirius added helpfully. “He is ordering me to work together with you to stop the asteroid from destroying the planet. He…he thinks that Charlemagne might be strong enough to destroy it by himself.”

  Phatagin relaxed as an intellectual problem asserted itself, the lazy pangolin being far more suited for think tank work than the front lines. He looked up at the blue sky but saw nothing but the sun and a few puffy clouds.

  “I think that, if everyone here cooperates, we might just have a chance. But, there’s a very important question that I need to ask you all.”

  “What is it?” the Red Fang responded, taking the request seriously.

  “How much radiation do you have access to?”