"Shit. Shit. Shit."

Adom muttered the curse with each pounding step as he retreated from the ridgeline, moving with all the stealth of someone trying very hard not to become a four-armed ape's dinner. Zuni clung to his shoulder, tiny claws digging in to avoid being dislodged by Adom's frantic pace.

John had gone back into the inventory.

"Did it see me? I think it saw me. It definitely saw me."

No, that wasn't quite right. The silverback had looked in his direction, but its posture had been one of generalized awareness, not focused hunting. If it had truly spotted him, it would have already been charging up the ridge. The fact that no twelve-foot monstrosity was currently breathing down his neck suggested he'd managed to duck away before being definitively spotted.

Small victories.

Adom only slowed once they'd put a decent patch of heavy forest between themselves and the clearing. He leaned against a massive tree trunk, pulse hammering in his throat.

"Biggins," he wheezed, "is a damn liar."

The warning had been clear enough—the silverback was dangerous. But there's "dangerous" in the academic sense, and then there's watching a creature rip another apex predator's jaw off with its bare hands.

For a brief, possibly insane moment, Adom had considered attacking right then. The beast had just finished a difficult fight. It was wounded, bleeding. Logic suggested it would be weakened, vulnerable.

Logic, in this case, could go straight to hell.

Even wounded, the silverback radiated power. Its movements remained fluid, controlled. The way it had snapped the wyrm's spine suggested it had plenty of strength to spare. If Adom had charged in, believing it weakened enough to take on, he would have ended up just like that wyrm—another trophy in a clearing already painted with blood.

Even with his full magical arsenal, this would be a difficult fight. Without it, relying purely on his physical abilities? That was suicide with extra steps.

"Okay," Adom muttered, trying to settle his breathing. "New plan."

Zuni poked his head out from where he'd burrowed into Adom's collar during their retreat, whiskers twitching questioningly.

"We're going to need a better approach."

Adom spotted a massive oak about fifty yards further into the forest, its branches thick and sturdy. Perfect for a temporary hideout.

He began to climb.

The bark was rough under his hands, providing decent grip despite his sweaty palms. He hauled himself up branch by branch until he found a solid perch about thirty feet up, hidden by a canopy of leaves but with enough gaps to keep an eye on his surroundings.

Zuni scampered up after him, settling on a nearby branch with a concerned chirp.

"Yeah, I know," Adom said, leaning back against the trunk. "Not exactly going according to plan."

His heart rate was finally returning to normal. He took a deep breath, then another, forcing his mind to focus. Panic wouldn't help him now.

The silverback wasn't just an obstacle—it was the whole point of this excursion. The creature's unique physical makeup made it ideal for the transmutation ritual Adom needed to perform.

But to do that, he needed to draw the transmutation circle, immobilize the beast inside it, and perform the ritual—all without getting torn in half first.

"So," he murmured, ticking off options on his fingers. "Can't outfight it." One finger down. "Can't outrun it." Another down. "Can't surprise it." A third finger.

If he tried to wear it down with ranged spells, it would likely just charge him before he could do significant damage.

Traps were an option, but what kind of trap could possibly hold something that had just ripped apart a Graven Scale Wyrm?

"Think, think..."

He pulled out Biggins' map, studying the dungeon layout. The silverback's territory seemed to center around that large clearing, but it likely patrolled a much wider area. If he could somehow lure it...

No, luring implied he'd be the bait. Hard pass on that.

What about poison? Doubtful. According to the notes, the silverback's metabolism processed toxins almost instantly.

Adom was running out of fingers to count failed strategies on when he noticed something on the map. A narrow canyon about a quarter-mile east of the silverback's clearing. The walls were steep, according to the topographical markings, and there was only one way in or out.

If he could somehow get the beast in there, block the exit...

But how to get it there in the first place?

Zuni chirped again, head tilted as he watched Adom think.

"I'm working on it," Adom assured him.

He closed his eyes, visualizing the problem from another angle. The silverback was territorial and aggressive. It had just killed a major predator encroaching on its space. What if...

What if he wasn't the one who needed to lure it?

A plan began forming in Adom's mind. Risky, but with a decent chance of success. His eyes snapped open.

"Bingo."

Zuni stared.

"Don't worry," Adom said, reaching over to scratch behind the quillick's ears. "This'll work. Probably."

Zuni's expression suggested he found this less than reassuring.

*****

Adom spread Biggins' map across his lap, the parchment crinkling as he smoothed it flat against his thigh. Zuni peered over his arm, occasionally trying to taste the paper.

"Okay, the silverback's territory is here," Adom muttered, tapping a circled area near the center of the map. "What we need is something big enough to give it trouble, but not so big it'll kill the silverback before I can complete the ritual."

His finger traced outward from the silverback's domain, following Biggins' neat annotations. The old dragon had marked most major monster territories with small symbols and brief notes.

"Spinejaws? Too small. Acid Hoppers? Too unpredictable. Blood Moss colony? Can't exactly herd plants..."

Zuni chirped impatiently, as if to say hurry up already.

"I'm looking, I'm—" Adom stopped mid-sentence, his finger hovering over a spot about a mile east of their current position. "Well, hello there."

The area was marked with the a reptilian symbol, but drawn multiple times in a tight cluster. Beside it, Biggins had written: "Graven Scale breeding ground. AVOID."

Breeding ground. Which meant multiple Graven Scales. Which meant...

"Exactly what we need," Adom said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "If one gave the silverback trouble, what might three or four do?"

Zuni did not look convinced.

"It's perfect," Adom continued, already folding the map. "We provoke the Gravens, lead them to the silverback, let them soften each other up, then use John to teleport the silverback to our prepared circle."

He slid down from the tree, Zuni scampering after him. The quillick seemed less enthusiastic about this plan, but Adom was already mentally calculating the fastest route to the Graven breeding ground.

The trek through the deepening forest took nearly an hour. As they approached the coordinates, the vegetation changed. The ground became marshy, the air thick with mist and the sweet-rot smell of decaying vegetation. Massive ferns unfurled in every direction, their fronds beaded with moisture.

"Should be just ahead," Adom whispered, crouching low.

He crept forward, parting the last stand of ferns to reveal a wide, swampy clearing. At its center, a shallow pool of murky water steamed in the afternoon heat.

And there they were.

Three full-grown Graven Scales lounged at different points around the pool. Each was similar to the one the silverback had killed, though varying in size and coloration. The largest had an oily black hide crossed with deep red markings, while the other two were more greenish-brown.

[Identify]

Graven Scale Matriarch (Deadly threat)

The dominant female of a Graven Scale pack. Her scales contain concentrated mana crystals.

Graven Scale Bull (Deadly threat)

Male Graven Scale with territorial instincts. Slower but more heavily armored than females.

Graven Scale Hunter (Deadly threat)

Faster and more aggressive than other Gravens. Specializes in ambush tactics.

"Three deadly threats," Adom whispered. "Perfect."

The monsters seemed relaxed, almost lethargic as they basked in the afternoon heat. The Matriarch occasionally dipped her massive head into the pool to drink, while the Bull gnawed lazily on what looked like the remains of some unfortunate creature. The Hunter was the most active, patrolling the far edge of the clearing with deliberate steps.

Adom studied them, formulating his approach. But seeing the creatures in person, their massive jaws and powerful limbs, made his plan suddenly seem less brilliant than it had when he was safely perched in a tree.

Would they actually follow him for nearly an hour's trek to the silverback's territory? These weren't mindless brutes—they were apex predators with territorial instincts. And speaking of the trek, could he realistically outrun them for that long? Sure, he could move faster than his leisurely walk here, but still. The Hunter especially looked built for speed.

And what if, after all that effort, they simply caught sight of the massive silverback and decided discretion was the better part of valor? Territorial or not, most creatures had a healthy sense of self-preservation.

Maybe he had it backward. Perhaps bringing the silverback to them made more sense? The canyon with his carefully prepared transmutation circle was roughly equidistant between both territories. He'd previously spent nearly an hour carving those runes into the stone walls, positioning markers on trees and arranging river rocks to complete the pattern. It would be a shame to waste all that preparation.

But how to lure a silverback? The beast had just eaten, so hunger wouldn't motivate it. Territorial aggression seemed the most reliable trigger, but that meant Adom would need to find something the creature valued and threaten it.

Zuni suddenly let out a high-pitched squeak and grabbed Adom's ear with his tiny paws, tugging frantically.

"Hey! What are you—" Adom turned to look at the agitated quillick. "What's wrong?"

Zuni squeaked again, more insistently, then pointed his nose deliberately toward the far side of the pool.

Adom followed the quillick's gaze, adjusting his position slightly to see past the Matriarch's massive bulk.

And then he saw them.

Nestled in a depression at the edge of the pool, partially hidden by reeds, were seven or eight smaller shapes. Much smaller. Baby Graven Scales, their scales still soft and iridescent, tumbled over each other in play. One was trying to catch a dragonfly, snapping ineffectually as the insect darted just out of reach. Another was curled up asleep, its tiny tail twitching with dreams.

"Oh," Adom said, the spell dissipating from his fingertips. "Those are..."

Zuni nodded solemnly.

Oh, for God's sake. Adom sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.