While Sirius’ pack scattered, Charlemagne turned to Ndiogou the Blind Hunter.

  “Bawk?” he asked the human.

  Several strong emotions flickered across the man’s face as he considered the rooster’s request, but he said nothing for a few moments.

  “It would behoove us to depart quickly,” Phatagin warned as he watched the seven canines disappear into a clump of dense foliage.

  “Bawk?” the rooster repeated.

  “I will…I will join you. It would be a shame if we all died before you had a chance to start a new family. Perhaps if we all survive I can help you track down some hens. It would be the least that I can do for you, especially if you aid me in my vengeance.”

  “I’ll help too!” Bridget promised.

  “Although I possess no special skill at tracking, I will aid you as well,” Phatagin promised.

  “If Dog allows it, my nose will be your guide, and together we will find these hens you seek,” added Sirius.

  Charlemagne felt a new sensation welling up inside him: a strange sense of belonging that he had previously only experienced when in the presence of his own kind. It felt…nice.

  “Bawk!” he agreed with great enthusiasm.

  Having convinced Ndiogou to travel west with him, there was still one thing that Charlemagne needed to do before he was ready to head out. He concentrated on his desire and was shortly rewarded with a new message.

  “Bawwk?” Charlemagne asked, confused by what the Squiggles had shared.

  “I was once a Champion, yes,” the man confirmed. “But I lost my status after I disobeyed the word of Brett. I suppose I never lost the benefits, because I have no issues understanding the speech of any man or beast. I imagine that I will never regain his favor, even if I aid you in protecting the planet.”

  Testing, one two. Bridget sent over the Party chat.

  I can hear you just fine, the mental voice of Ndiogou responded. But Sirius cannot, so we should use verbal communication for the time being.

  “So...how are we going to get all the way to Ghana in less than an hour?” Bridget asked. “I’m certainly not that fast.”

  Sirius joined the quartet and looked each member up and down except for Bridget, whose diminutive stature obviated the need for such measurements.

  “Charlemagne is the fastest among us, is he not?”

  “Bawk,” the rooster answered with pride.

  “I thought so,” she continued. “My suggestion is that Charlemagne fly at top speed, holding onto Ndiogou. Then Ndiogou holds me, and I hold onto…I am so sorry I forgot your name.”

  “It’s Phatagin,” the pangolin replied in an annoyed tone. “And I am a pangolin.”

  “Thank you. I hold Phatagin, and then…uh…”

  “Bridget,” supplied the mosquito.

  “Bridget finds a safe place to hang on until we get there. Does that sound good to everyone?”

  “Bawk?” the rooster asked.

  “We will arrange ourselves first, and then you can pick us all up in one go,” Ndiogou suggested. “It will be simpler that way.”

  The plan having been set, the four allies made a rather awkward bundle as they waited for Charlemagne to loop around and grab them on the wing. The rooster’s heavy claws, with their razor-sharp talons, dug into Ndiogou’s shoulders as he snatched the man straight off the ground, causing the Blind Hunter to yelp in surprise.

  Let’s just hope that we don’t look like easy prey to any bats, birds, or flying squirrels, Bridget joked as Charlemagne began to pick up speed, slowed only slightly by the extra weight and wind resistance. Of course, the words had barely left her mind when a flock of Marabou storks burst through the tree line and sought to bar their path. The storks all appeared to have a number of levels under their belts, and several of them had strange markings that set them apart from the rest.

  Next time, please keep such musings to yourself, Phatagin complained to the Party.

  Charlemagne flapped his mighty wings, swiftly gaining altitude as he outpaced the enormous birds. In no time at all, the storks had fallen so far behind that they appeared as merely dots on the horizon.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I guess we shouldn’t have worried, Ndiogou sent. We are now flying as fast as an airplane. It’s…it’s incredible.

  Bawk, Charlemagne asked.

  It’s like a giant metal bird, with wings that don’t move. Instead it uses devices that blow very hot air very fast out of them to push the plane forward.

  The rooster had a very dim memory of encountering something very similar in the past, but he couldn’t quite recall when or where.

  You can see a couple below us, actually, the Blind Hunter continued.

  As Charlemagne looked down at the remains of Cotonou’s international airport, the site jogged his memory. He remembered one of the grounded aircraft in particular, recalling how he had nearly been sucked into a round metal spinning device and then later how he had managed to get inside one of the giant beasts to eat the humans that it was harboring.

  Bawk, he sent back.

  The next half an hour passed quickly as the rooster’s incredible speed allowed the group to pass mostly unmolested over a variety of terrains. It took only a few minutes by air to reach the spot where Charlemagne had first received the System. Moments later they came under fire from a rather unlikely source: a full-sized replica slave ship attempted to shoot Charlemagne out of the sky using very real cannons that fired a combination of metallic and mana-based rounds. However, none of the hastily-aimed shots came close to hitting him, and no other attacks were forthcoming. Soon, the five allies found themselves passing over another popular tourist destination: Grand Popo, which sat right along the border between Benin and Togo. The Squiggles appeared as they passed over a cluster of round bungalows right on the beach.

  The rooster made a special note of the area while keeping an eye out for trouble. Enormous crabs were crawling all over the place, but they didn’t seem to notice the strange group flying directly above them. The area also featured a number of overgrown cacti with sharp-looking needles. Despite their menacing appearance, the plants didn’t react to the rooster passing overhead, so Charlemagne crossed over into Togo without incident and continued to head west.

  Passing over the city of Lomé was an interesting experience for the rooster. The seaport, once one of the most active in all of Africa, was completely abandoned, just like Cotonou’s had been. However, unlike the port of Cotonou, the machinery was still largely intact and the cargo undisturbed. The rooster spent long moments staring down at the thousands of shipping containers that were stacked neatly, wondering how the humans had managed to perform such labor without the benefit of the System. While he pondered that particular mystery, Charlemagne passed over the U.S. Embassy, where a scrappy band of former diplomats (minus the recently deceased Raul Sanchez) were still surviving within the increasingly dangerous city.

  “Bawk?” Charlemagne asked as they left the city behind.

  “Just keep following the coast,” Sirius answered, her voice almost carried away by the wind. “You’re not quite halfway there.”

  Charlemagne flew faster.

  Back in GOD’s territory, Grimfalk had taken his leave of Canius and Brett and had returned to his own demiplane. He and Longclaw were watching Charlemagne’s progress with great interest.

  “I still think he should have killed the human,” Grimfalk griped. “Just on the principle of the matter if nothing else.”

  “It’s not about the principle,” Longclaw pointed out. “Charlemagne just secured a powerful new ally. If he wants to kill strong creatures, he can always find more Special Areas or Dungeons. There’s apparently a lot about the System that even we don’t understand, and having well-informed allies means that he will gain knowledge faster. We can make good use of that information to help out your other Champions too, you know.”

  “Don’t remind me about my other Champions,” the other theropod groaned. “I still can’t believe that we lost Sunday to a rat. A rat!”

  Longclaw decided to forestall Grimfalk’s impending rant by changing the subject.

  “I’m going to grab a Stoat Water. I’ll get you a ‘Dillo Bucket while I’m up, if you want.”

  “Not a ‘Dillo Bucket,” Grimfalk corrected. “Get me a box of Rat Balls. If you can’t beat ‘em, eat ‘em, I always say.”

  “Fine,” the female theropod chuckled as she left the room. Stress eating was infinitely preferable to the alternative, which was having to listen to Grimfalk complain about another Champion’s demise for the next several weeks. Besides, it wasn’t like Longclaw didn’t have stress of her own to handle. She had bet quite a large amount of DKP on a Champion defeating the asteroid. The odds she received had been excellent since almost everyone expected Brett to handle the situation personally.

  When Longclaw returned, she found Grimfalk aggressively flipping through the available feeds.

  “Here’s your Rat Balls,” she said as she handed them over. She opened her Stoat Water and took a long swig before moving over to her own spot and plopping back down. “What are you looking for?” she asked once she was seated.

  “There’s not much going on with Charlemagne,” Grimfalk responded. “He’s just flying. I’ll flip back over to him in ten minutes when he finally arrives in Accra.”

  “So…I know we said that we’d bet on him, but I’m worried there won’t be enough radiation in Accra for him to absorb,” Longclaw confessed.

  “Why wouldn’t there be?” Grimfalk asked. “The bomb that landed on the city was just as big as the one that hit Porto Novo. Maybe even bigger.”

  “Well, yes,” the other theropod admitted. “But from what I can gather, both the System-generated monsters and the Dungeon at the center of Porto Novo magnified the radiation. I am not sure what the area surrounding Accra will look like. Maybe there’s a chance that he could make it to another city that was bombed? What about Abidjan? That’s pretty close, right?”

  Grimfalk picked up the remote and, after a few tries, managed to pull up a map of West Africa on the main screen. The pair perused it for a few moments.

  “I guess not,” Longclaw finally added. “There’s no way they can make it to a second city in time. They’ll only have a few minutes to prepare for the asteroid once they arrive at Accra.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to hope that he’s strong enough to handle the asteroid with what’s on hand,” Grimfalk sighed. “I would send him some aid, but all our DKP is tied up right now, isn’t it?”

  “Why didn’t you send him something before I made all these bets?” Longclaw demanded, exasperated. “We could have given him at least a few boon tokens to use!”

  The other theropod shrugged as he changed the channel again.

  “I forgot.”