After the grand feast, the journey above the Salina of Astarne began.
The trio accepted the protection of Ǣg-berend, who was only interested in the Procreator. And, for that, she needed the trio to stay alive. Otherwise, she herself would have to return to the Monster Continent.
UNION
— And who are the others of the ten? — They flew on Godwyna, the four of them, with the centaur standing, and the serpent-keeper straining under the weight.
— Leofwynn, I don't know them all. The Monster Continent has its own guilds, and there are many. If you don't ally with one of them, you get crushed. — Ǣg-berend spoke with a distant gaze, Æthelflæd attentive, well, almost attentive, leaning to the side, resting her head on Cwenburg's shoulder. — As I said, when they discovered the Demon King had chosen three servants, it shifted the balance among the monster factions. Each of the ten most powerful factions sent one of their strongest.
— Sent where? — Æthelflæd still couldn't follow, it was too much information.
— Æthelflæd, they sent those ten to kill us. — Cwenburg explained for the third time.
— That's absurd! Tell them, Ǣg-berend, I'm level one! And they are terrible!
— Hey, we're not that bad!
— And I'm great! — Leofwynn wouldn't back down and matched Cwenburg's tone.
— That doesn't matter, you two. It's a misunderstanding, they can't be taking us seriously. It's not possible! — Æthelflæd knelt with her hands on her head, as Leofwynn returned to the important point:
— But it's not just those ten? You said, Ǣg-berend…
— That's right. Above all monster guilds there is one name, the First. He is the most powerful being in the Monster Continent. Two were chosen from his servants. I'm sorry to say this… — The centaur ate some of the cookies served by Æthelflæd. — Against those two, well, I can do nothing. Probably, if we meet them, they will kill us.
For two days, only the crystalline waters with coral reefs were the view.
The group slept more than they stayed awake.
The centaur looked at the lolis and remembered her own past, when she was still a little filly.
Forty-seven years earlier…
In the Republic of Erma…
Northwest of the Demon King's continent…
And what a beautiful memory, Ǣg-berend's heart swelled with nostalgia…
The one speaking to the little fillies was an Amazonian mistress, the centaur Hyrethryth:
— Yes, he rode me. It was like flying through the southern pastures. — As she spoke, the Amazonian mistress placed her front hooves on the table.
She illustrated the act by moving her enormous centaur body, making the little fillies blush.
— Can he love all of us, Miss Hyperion Hyrethryth?
— All of us! He is chosen by our God to impregnate us! And he will love all of you one day.
Ǣg-berend, after class, in the centaur school hallway, found the Amazonian mistress.
She asked what had long remained in her youthful memories:
— Did Mommy get ridden by him too?
— Oh, little one, Ǣg-berend, yes. Right next to me. And next to my seven sisters. That's how you and your classmates were conceived.
— But I was born before them… and Mommy is no longer with us.
— Oh, filly, you were born premature, like I was in my time. I saw when he took her, she was the one who moaned the loudest, and he loved her, as he will love you one day too.
— When, Miss Hyperion Hyrethryth? When will he return?
— Don't rush. The Procreator is on a perpetual march, visiting all centaur villages. And that's why the journey is so long. Grow up first, and… — Hyrethryth shared a secret. — When he returns, know that Alípio always starts with those of the highest level.
Soon after graduating from the centaur academy, Ǣg-berend joined a guild, the White Wall.
She wanted to become stronger, she wanted to be the most powerful. And she would strive for it.
Her main weapon? Horseshoes.
It was brutal, and she used her large body like no other centaur in her class.
After the first few months, difficult for anyone who still lacks a name or deeds, she gained her first companions.
They were three.
Mægenlēoþ, a wind mage, lamia, with healing spells and studies at the human capital's University of Promise Columns.
Wudu, the gallant triton, who tried to sleep with the centaur for all the decades they spent together, including after his first, second, third, and fourth marriage, all failed, after all, the rogue Wudu couldn't live without prostitutes, gambling, and all sorts of vices.
John Keats, the silent vulturine poet, an expert archer who, in Ǣg-berend's memories, always hit half his shots.
In the early years, the centaur's physical prowess grew unprecedentedly.
She could kill a troll with a kick.
They became famous after defending the city of Southern Current, attacked by hill giants.
Despite offers from other, more renowned groups and guilds that paid better, Ǣg-berend remained in Erma, in the White Wall guild, with her group, then known as Donkey's Kick.
Three decades later, the Impaler, a white dragon, made his fire nest atop Fir Mountain.
He had gone mad and attacked all who sought him with good intentions.
Only a few years remained before the Procreator's return, and the Republic was being prepared to receive him.
A statue was erected. He, the Procreator, above twenty beautiful centaur warrior maidens in marble.
The stables were being renovated.
That's when Donkey's Kick accepted the extermination mission.
Ǣg-berend, then at Level 18, wanted to reach 19, she yearned to be first in line when Alípio set hoof in her homeland.
During the battle, the white dragon proved to be cursed, he had deep marks, scars from an unknown magic, rotten and ominous.
The fight was quicker than expected, and, except for the burns, as part of Fir Mountain burned with white flames, the final blow, a kick to the dragon's chest, prevented any serious harm to Donkey's Kick.
The Curse passed from the scales to Ǣg-berend's golden fur, and she fell, if she hadn't jumped from Level 18 straight to Level 20, she would have met her death at that moment.
The white dragon was ancient, nearly fifty thousand years old, and if levels above twenty existed, she would have reached them.
However, only the Demon King could evolve beyond common knowledge.
And the law was one, either Ǣg-berend would face the Demon King, or she would accept being sent to the Monster Continent, which is what happened.
— And what was the Monster Continent like? — Æthelflæd asked at dusk, with the centaur staring blankly at the horizon.
— The purest horror… — Ǣg-berend turned her face away, and the three didn't broach the subject again.