Chapter 16 Training With Dozens Orc.
The merchant's cart rumbles over the dirt road, the wheels kicking up clouds of dust that catch the midday sun.
His name is Garp, a round man with a bushy brown beard and a wide-brimmed hat that sits perched on his head like a mushroom.
He's perched on the driver's seat, flicking a whip at the two horses pulling the cart, while Hannah and her companions walk alongside—Suzy's hammer thudding against her hip, Sneider's bow slung over his shoulder, Toby's sword glinting at his side.
Ren is curled on top of the caravan's canvas roof, his black scales blending with the shadowed fabric, his red eyes half-closed as he pretends to nap while eavesdropping on every word.
At his current size—about that of a large cat—he's far too heavy to perch on Hannah's shoulder for long, so the roof has become his favorite roost during travel.
"Southbrook's a quiet little place," Garp says, turning to them with a grin.
"Nothing like Ironhold—no arenas, no rowdy adventurers, just fields and farms and a market that sells the best turnip stew you've ever tasted. Roads are usually safe, too—bandits don't bother with us, not when the caravan's this small but well-guarded."
He taps his chest proudly.
"Got a good crew here. My two lads—Jake and Tom—they're tough as nails. And you lot? An E-rank arena star, a hammer-wielding warrior, a master archer, and a plucky kid with a sword? Unbeatable."
Suzy snorts, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Plucky kid? Toby here stood up to Goliath. That's more than most grown men would do." She's not fat—not even close—just broad-shouldered and muscular, with arms thick from swinging her hammer.
The nickname Fat Suzy had stuck when she'd out-eaten a team of lumberjacks at a tavern contest, and she'd embraced it ever since.
"Name's Suzy, by the way. Don't let the hammer fool you—I can cook a mean rabbit stew too."
Sneider nods, his gaze sharp as he scans the treeline.
"Sneider. I hunt monsters for a living. Arrows are my specialty—poisoned, if needed." He's quiet, reserved, the kind of man who speaks only when he has something important to say.
Toby brightens, puffing out his chest.
"Toby! I'm training to be a knight—someday. I've got a sister back home, Lila. She's sick, so I'm doing this mission to pay for her medicine." He pats his sword hilt, and Hannah smiles—she remembers how he'd clung to that blade when Goliath had threatened him.
Garp turns to Hannah, his eyes widening when he takes in her size—142 centimeters, tiny next to Suzy's 180 and Sneider's 175.
"And you're the arena girl? Hannah, right? Hard to believe someone that small took down Goliath. Bloke's twice your size—must've been a trick."
Hannah's lips twitch into a faint smile.
"No trick. Just speed." Ren snorts from the roof, and she glances up, catching the glint of his red eyes. "And a good partner."
Garp laughs, shaking his head.
"Well, whatever you did—impressive. Southbrook's gonna love hearing about you." He adjusts his hat, pulling it lower over his forehead, and Ren's tail twitches.
The dragon's wings flutter once, twice, sending a gust of fake wind straight at Garp's hat. The fabric flutters, then topples off, rolling into the dirt.
Silence falls.
Then Suzy snorts. Then Sneider chokes on a laugh.
Then Toby bursts out giggling. Even Bess—who's been trotting behind the cart, her ears flopping—nickers loudly, a horse's version of a laugh.
Garp's face turns bright red as he grabs his hat, shoving it back on his head and covering his bald patch with one hand.
"Bloody wind!" he sputters, and Hannah can't hold it in anymore—she laughs, a loud, genuine sound that makes Ren preen from his roof perch.
I am a genius, he crows in her head.
The afternoon fades into evening, the sun dipping below the trees and painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
Garp calls for a stop, and the group sets up camp by a stream—Jake and Tom unhitch the horses, Suzy starts a fire, Sneider sharpens his arrows, Toby helps gather firewood.
Hannah climbs onto the caravan roof, and Ren hops down into her arms, his body warm and heavy.
She carries him to a quiet spot by the stream, where he shifts into camouflage mode—his scales blending with the dappled sunlight and shadow, making him almost invisible. He curls up in her lap, his head resting on her knee, as she says,
"Need to hunt, and scout the area. Be back soon."
Suzy waves a hand, stirring a pot of stew over the fire. "Bring back something good! I'm starving!"
Hannah nods, and she and Ren slip into the woods.
The moment they're out of sight, Ren drops his camouflage, spreads his wings and takes off, his black scales glinting in the fading light.
Stay here, he orders. I will find the biggest prey. You are too slow.
Hannah rolls her eyes, but she sits on a fallen log, listening to the crickets chirp and the stream gurgle.
It's quiet—peaceful—and for a moment, she forgets about the count, about the missing posters, about the life she left behind. She just is—a girl, a dragon, a forest, and the promise of a warm meal.
An hour later, Ren returns—his wings beating furiously, his jaws clamped around the scruff of a wild tiger's neck.
The beast is huge—taller than Hannah, 2.5 meters long, its orange fur striped with black, its claws still twitching. Ren drops it at her feet, panting.
"Tiger," he says, preening. "Best prey. I am the greatest hunter."
Hannah stares at the tiger, then at Ren. "Bess can't carry this. We need help."
Ren huffs, but he doesn't argue.
Hannah leaves him to guard the tiger and heads back to camp, her boots crunching on the leaves.
Sneider is sharpening his arrows by the fire, and he looks up when she approaches.
"Need help," she says, trying to keep her voice casual.
"Got something bigger than a duck."
Sneider raises an eyebrow, but he stands, slinging his bow over his shoulder. "Lead the way."
He follows her into the woods, and when he sees the tiger, his eyes go wide.
"Tiger?" he says, his voice cracking. "You killed a tiger?"
Hannah shrugs.
"Team effort." Ren, who's curled on the tiger's belly in camouflage mode, purrs loudly—loud enough that Sneider glances around, confused.
Sneider doesn't ask questions.
He just helps her lift the tiger—Hannah grabbing the front legs, Sneider the back—and they carry it back to camp, grunting under the weight.
The others stare when they emerge from the woods, their mouths hanging open.
"THAT'S A TIGER!" Toby shouts.
Suzy's eyes sparkle.
"Hell yeah! We're eating like kings tonight!"
Garp and his lads gape, and even Bess nickers in surprise, trotting over to sniff the tiger's fur.
Suzy wastes no time—she grabs her knife, skins the beast, and starts cutting chunks of meat to roast over the fire.
The smell fills the camp, rich and savory, and Ren's stomach growls so loud everyone hears it. Hannah glances down at her lap, where Ren is still camouflaged, and stifles a laugh.
"Someone's hungry," Suzy says, grinning at Hannah. She slices off a huge piece of tiger meat and hands it to her.
"Heard you ate two gallons of milk and a whole venison platter at The Roasting Boar. Wanna make it a contest? Me vs. you—who can eat the most tiger meat?"
Hannah's lips twitch. "Sure."
Ren cheers in her head. I will win. For you.
The contest starts at dusk and ends at midnight.
Suzy eats three huge plates of meat, her jaw working furiously, while Hannah picks at a single plate—for show—as Ren devours plate after plate, invisible, his teeth tearing into the meat.
When Suzy slumps back, groaning, her stomach stuffed, Hannah sets down her empty plate (Ren's done with it) and wipes her mouth.
"I win," she says, and Suzy laughs, holding up her hands in defeat.
"Fair play," she says. "You're a bottomless pit, girl."
The others laugh, and they settle around the fire, telling stories until their eyes grow heavy. Garp assigns the night watch—Toby first, then Jake, then Tom—and everyone curls up in their blankets, the fire dying down to embers.
Ren curls up in Hannah's lap, shifting back to camouflage mode so no one but her can see him, his body warm and steady against her legs.
She drifts off to sleep, the sound of the stream lulling her.
She's woken up hours later by Ren's claws digging into her skin. Wake up, he hisses in her head, his voice sharp. Enemies. All around us. Orcs.
Hannah's eyes snap open.
She's wide awake in an instant, her hand wrapping around her dagger. She can hear them now—the grunts, the footsteps, the clinking of weapons.
She sits up slowly, her eyes scanning the dark. Toby's spot by the fire is empty.
There, Ren says, pointing with his tail.
Hannah follows his gaze—and her blood runs cold. In the distance, two orcs are dragging a figure through the trees—Toby, his body limp, his sword missing. He's unconscious, but he's alive.
Thirty-six orcs, Ren says. A dozen are with Toby. The rest are circling the camp.
Hannah moves quietly, stepping over Suzy and shaking her shoulder.
Suzy wakes up, her hand grabbing her hammer, and Hannah shushes her, pointing to the trees. Suzy's eyes widen, and she shakes Sneider awake.
Sneider grabs his bow, nocking an arrow, and they wake Garp and his lads—who immediately panic, scrambling into the cart and slamming the door shut.
"Stay quiet," Hannah whispers, her voice low.
"Sneider—take the ones on the left. Suzy—hit hard, hit fast. I'm going after Toby. Tend to the wounded when it's over. Guard the cart."
Suzy nods, gripping her hammer. Sneider nocks another arrow.
Ren leaps from Hannah's lap, dropping his camouflage, and flies to her side, his wings silent. Good training, he says.
Annoying training, Hannah thinks, but she doesn't say it out loud.
The orcs attack at dawn—yelling, charging, their axes swinging. Sneider's arrows fly, taking down three orcs before they even reach the camp.
Suzy swings her hammer, crushing an orc's skull with one hit, her roar echoing through the trees. Hannah moves fast—faster than the orcs can see—her dagger flashing.
Ren helps, diving at their faces, clawing their eyes, and when an orc lunges at Hannah from behind, he breathes a tiny burst of fire, singeing the beast's hair.
The orc screams, and Hannah stabs him through the chest.
To anyone watching, it looks like Hannah is everywhere—stabbing, slashing, dodging—taking down half the orcs by herself.
Ren's work is invisible, his attacks blending with hers, and the remaining orcs panic, turning and running into the woods. A dozen of them flee, taking the ones with Toby with them.
"GO!" Hannah shouts to Suzy and Sneider. "Tend to the camp! I'm going after Toby!"
She doesn't wait for a reply.
She runs into the woods, Ren flying ahead, guiding her.
She can hear the orcs' grunts, can see their shadows through the trees, and she moves faster, her boots crunching on the leaves.
She catches up to them a mile from the camp—two orcs, dragging Toby by his arms, their axes slung over their shoulders.
Hannah doesn't hesitate.
She leaps, her dagger stabbing one orc in the back.
The beast screams, falling to the ground, and the other turns—only to get a dagger to the throat.
He gurgles, collapsing, and Hannah kneels beside Toby, checking his pulse. It's weak, but it's there.
She sighs, then tries to lift him.
Toby is 160 centimeters tall—taller than her, heavier than she expects—and she struggles, her arms shaking, to hoist him over her shoulder.
Carrying him is harder than fighting the orcs—her muscles burn, her back aches, and she stumbles more than once, Ren flying beside her, laughing.
Weak human, he teases. Need help?
"Shut up," Hannah grunts, but she's smiling.
She gets back to the camp an hour later, Toby slung over her shoulder, her legs wobbly.
Suzy and Sneider are waiting for her, their faces relieved.
Suzy helps her lower Toby to the ground, and Sneider checks his wounds—a cut on his head, a bruise on his ribs, but nothing life-threatening.
"He'll be okay," Sneider says, bandaging Toby's head. "Just needs to rest."
Garp and his lads climb out of the cart, their faces pale. "You… you killed half the orcs?" Garp says, staring at Hannah.
Hannah shrugs. "Team effort."
Suzy laughs, clapping her on the back. "You're a beast, girl!"
They gather the orc heads—proof of their victory—and pack up the camp quickly, no one wanting to stay another minute.
Garp hitches the horses to the cart, Toby is laid on a blanket in the back, and Ren curls up on the caravan roof once more, his scales blending with the canvas.
They set off at sunrise, the road to Southbrook stretching ahead of them.
Hannah walks beside the cart, her muscles still sore.
She glances at Toby, who's sleeping soundly, then at Suzy and Sneider, who are talking quietly, and she smiles.
For the first time in her life, she has friends—people who don't care that she's small, that she has scales on her jaw, that she talks to a dragon.
Ren nuzzles her mind, a warm, proud feeling, and she glances up at the roof, catching the glint of his red eyes. Good training, he says again.
Hannah smiles.
"Yeah," she says, out loud this time. "Good training."
The sun rises higher, painting the sky in shades of blue, and the cart rumbles on—toward Southbrook, toward a new adventure, toward a future that's finally hers.
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.
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To be continue...