“Charge!” shouted Rosabella, holding her lance aloft. Like all of the Hartwood Sentries, she had been trained to use a variety of weapons, but when she was atop her mount, the long weapon was the obvious choice.

  Her crab – named Clackle – skittered sideways into the surf. In moments, it – along with the gnomish girl on its back – disappeared beneath the waves. Three others – a sea elf boy, a dwarven girl, and a young human boy – followed. The trio were similarly mounted on their own crabs, though they were far less powerful than Clackle, who’d become the alpha among the crustaceans.

  Miguel followed, diving into the water behind them.

  Even with their unique abilities, the Hartwood Sentries could not outpace him, but he kept his distance all the same. This wasn’t about him. It was about letting the so-called crab cavalry show their worth.

  Within a hundred yards, they reached a massive drop-off, but they didn’t hesitate to plunge ahead. Miguel had been surprised to learn that crabs were more than capable swimmers, though he couldn’t deny that they still looked a bit awkward. Their back legs were flatter than all the others, and they used them almost like paddles to propel themselves forward through the water.

  And given their size and strength, they could cut through the water with shocking speed. Their riders crouched low, their ten-foot-long lances held in the ready position. Even from more than a hundred feet behind them, Miguel could feel their ethera churning as they prepared to engage the enemy.

  He wasn’t certain whether he would categorize the school of fish-like humanoids as monsters, sapient creatures, or something in between, but according to Nara, they were very similar to an invasive species native to her mostly aquatic home world. They differed in a few key ways, but she’d confidently called the Earth-creatures nuissances, and Miguel was inclined to agree.

  For weeks, they’d been finding damage to the corral reef surrounding the island – which wasn’t alarming in and of itself. However, when Nara had discovered that something had taken a hunk out of the salvaged-but-still-growing leviathan’s bones, she’d sent Miguel to investigate.

  And a few nights later, he’d found a troop of what he thought of as sea monkeys gnawing on the corral. The name was only partially appropriate. They were bipedal, with long tails and a demeanor that reminded him of the terrestrial simians. However, they also had a carapace like exterior reminiscent of shrimp, complete with facial features that marked them as crustaceans, claws instead of hands, and a segmented, paddle-like tail they used for locomotion.

  What’s more, they swept through the corral reef like locusts, eating everything in sight. It only took a little observation to determine that they could not be allowed to upset the balance of the grove.

  Thankfully, they weren’t particularly strong. Maybe level fifty or so, with an alpha a few levels higher. So, instead of taking care of them himself, Miguel had opted to use the creatures as a training exercise. Mostly, that decision came from the fact that Rosabella wouldn’t stop bugging him about going on missions or running the tower.

  The gnomish girl was obsessed with progression and dedicated to the grove in a way that sometimes scared even Miguel. Was it because she’d grown up in its shadow? Was it her attunement? Just a naturally obsessive personality? Or some combination of those and other factors that Miguel couldn’t even begin to untangle?

  Probably the latter.

  In any case, he hung suspended only a few feet below the surface as he watched the battle unfold. There were nearly two-dozen sea monkeys versus only four members of the crab cavalry. However, the Hartwood Sentries all had the benefit of a watered-down version of Miguel’s own Pledge of the Greenwarden, which granted them a few extra attributes based on their proximity to the grove. In their case, it was called Oath of the Hartwood, and though it was much less potent than his had ever been, it was enough to let them fight well above their levels.

  Second, they were all equipped with powerful weapons. Unlike Miguel, they weren’t limited to using naturally sourced gear, and Nara had commissioned some truly powerful weapons and armor for them to use. Not on par with what Miguel’s mother could forge, but they could never have used those anyway.

  Mortals simply didn’t have the capacity to wield such potent equipment.

  Instead, the Hartwood Sentries had been equipped by apprentices, which still made the gear quite impressive by normal standards.

  In some ways, Miguel envied them. However, he already had plans to rectify the issue of his broken blade. He just needed a little more time before he could put them into motion.

  He watched as the cavalry clashed with the shrimp-like simians. The invasive creatures fought with incredible ferocity that reminded Miguel of videos he’d seen of wild baboons. But the Hartwood Sentries held their own, with Rosabella and Clackle standing strong against all comers.

  The crab’s claws snapped out, snipping the less powerful sea monkeys in two with every iteration. The attackers responded with renewed fury, but in response, the crabs showed their true worth when the sea monkeys found their offensive fouled by a bubble-like shield that came naturally to the crabs.

  It only held for a few seconds, but that was enough for the Hartwood Sentries to bring their lances to bear. They impaled their enemies, filling the sea with clouds of blood. Despite their youth, none of them shied away from the carnage. They might not have been veterans, but each of them had seen enough death to inure them to its effects. A little gore wouldn’t change that.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Through it all, Miguel was prepared to step in. With the massive influx of attributes he got from the grove, he could easily swat the creatures. However, he knew that would run counter to the goal, which was to allow Rosabella and the other Hartwood Sentries to protect the grove and gain some experience fighting in the water.

  They’d all been inside the Sea of Sorrows, so it wasn’t an entirely alien experience. But they couldn’t take their crabs inside the tower, and more than anything, they needed to learn to work together.

  Despite the lopsided numbers, the fight didn’t last long. In only a few short minutes, the Hartwood Sentries had laid waste to their enemies. None of the sea monkeys even had a chance to flee. It was a rout, which was an expected but still welcome result.

  When the short battle had concluded, the four Hartwood Sentries dismounted and swam toward Miguel. Meanwhile, the crabs feasted – their reward for a job well done.

  Miguel motioned for the sentries to follow, and he swam back to the island’s rocky shore. He reached his destination well before they did, so when they crested the waves, he was already sitting on one of the boulders.

  They arrayed themselves before him, clearly waiting for his evaluation. Every face was flush with excitement, but unlike the other three, Rosabella wore a frown.

  “How do you think that went?” he asked, looking from one to the other. He kept his tone neutral, mimicking Ivin’s demeanor. Eventually, his eyes settled onto Rosabella.

  “Terrible,” she stated.

  “How so?”

  That opened the floodgates to her self-recrimination, and she went beat by beat through the battle, itemizing every tiny thing they’d done wrong. It ranged from a descent that was too quick to an overreliance on the crabs’ shields, and included everything in between.

  The others wilted under her evaluation.

  When she’d finished, Miguel asked, “And what went right?”

  “We won.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The weapons performed well.”

  Miguel tried not to let out a sigh. The gnomish girl was extremely hard on herself, which was fine. It drove her to excellence. However, it also had the detrimental effect of lacking positive reinforcement. In addition, she ran the risk of alienating her subordinates, and given that she had become the Sentries’ de facto leader, that was a very impactful issue.

  So, Miguel went through the battle, just as Rosabella had. Instead of enumerating their mistakes, he focused on the positives. He was effusive with his compliments, which buoyed the others’ moods. Rosabella remained impassive throughout, even when he directed his praise at her.

  Finally, he dismissed them, making certain to remind them not to slack in their training. They promised not to.

  Before they left, Miguel asked Rosabella to stay behind.

  “What is it?” she asked. “I failed. Are you going to punish me? I believe ten laps around the island would suffice.”

  “Why do you think you need to be punished?”

  “We didn’t perform up to our potential,” she answered quickly. “I can give you even more examples if you require them, though I would prefer to include them in my written report.”

  Miguel frowned. “I didn’t ask for a written report.”

  “I find that it’s better to do a second evaluation after I’ve had some time to consider our performance,” she explained. “It only makes sense to write it. Plus, it lets me practice my penmanship in various Earth languages.”

  The system automatically translated languages so everyone on Earth could understand one another. However, overreliance on that feature often left weaker people with headaches. It was much easier to simply adapt to the local languages, which was one of the goals of the local education system put in place by Ironshore. They’d settled on English, though they offered courses on other languages as well.

  “Do you know what your biggest issue is?” he asked her.

  “Hesitation.”

  “No.”

  She cocked her head to the side, then stated, “Lack of cohesion. We have been drilling together, but –”

  “Again, no.”

  Frustrated, she balled her hands into little fists. “Then it must be –”

  “You don’t consider how your words affect your people,” he said. “On Earth, there’s a whole branch of science that was dedicated to studying the mind. Psychology. Did you know that?”

  “I have heard of it,” she admitted hesitantly.

  Miguel didn’t believe her, but he didn’t make an issue of it. Instead, he went on to explain what he knew of psychology. Which wasn’t much, but he made a point to focus on the parts relevant to their situation.

  “You’re too negative,” he stated. “You can’t focus entirely on mistakes. You have to counter it with praise.”

  “I did.”

  Miguel shook his head. “Only when I pulled it out of you,” he pointed out. “And even then, it wasn’t enough. Positivity goes a long way. That’s not to say that you can’t tell them when they do something wrong. You should. And you should correct them. But that can’t be all you do. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “More praise.”

  Miguel wasn’t certain that she had understood his point about balance, but he reasoned that he needed to be satisfied with baby steps. So long as she threw out a compliment here and there, it should help.

  “Is there anything else?” she asked.

  He told her that there wasn’t, and that she was dismissed. She disappeared down the beach, and he knew that she went straight into her self-imposed punishment. She’d be running for hours unless he specifically forbade it. One day, she would burn out – just like he had – and the real measure of her mettle would come in the aftermath.

  For his part, Miguel felt like he was on the verge of getting his second wind. The Red Marsh had definitely taken its toll, and he still felt the same existential dread that had plagued him in its wake. But he was trying to get past it.

  Hope’s presence helped. So did the distraction provided by training the Hartwood Sentries. But more than anything, he knew he needed to keep busy. To that end, he retreated to the grove and checked on the tree he’d grown specifically to assist with his equipment problem.

  He didn’t have his uncle’s ability to manipulate plant growth, but he had the next best thing – Nerthus. The spryggent appeared a few moments after Miguel reached the tree.

  “It is nearly ready,” he said.

  “Do you think it’ll be enough?” Miguel asked, looking up at the fifteen-foot tree. He’d chosen a species called ironwood, which had been imported from some faraway region. The wood itself was characterized by incredible durability, though it lacked the magic that flowed through the ancestral trees.

  Because of that, it was much faster to grow, and given its thick trunk, it would provide plenty of wood, which Miguel hoped to turn into a new set of armor as well as a replacement for the Blade of the Green Warden.

  “I do,” Nerthus stated. “Have you found a woodworker?”

  Miguel nodded. “There’s someone in town. But I’ll make the sword myself.”

  “I will have enough sap for you in less than a week.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I do. You are the Hartwood Knight, and you must be properly equipped to protect this grove.”

  Miguel didn’t respond. He knew that arguing with the spryggent was pointless. What’s more, he very much appreciated the sacrifice. Nerthus’ sap would increase the hardness of the already-durable wood by an incredible degree. Hopefully, the resultant equipment would be enough to keep up.

  It was not urgent, but with Elijah in a Primal Realm and Kurik in Kalki, Miguel knew he was the grove’s first and last line of defense. And he refused to fail in that role.

  If you'd like to read more of Path of Dragons, we're almost two full books ahead (book 14 just started) on Patreon. That's 180+ extra chapters, so a ton of extra content for those of you who can't wait to see what Elijah will get up to. Anyway - check it out .

  For anyone interested in discussing the story, you can join my Discord .

  Thanks for all your support, comments, ratings, and reviews!