The cliffs rose from the river gorge. Stone showed long wear from the weather. Gabriel followed the narrow path along the face. He kept a steady pace. The drop beside him fell deep.

He carried the bounty notice inside his cloak.

The air grew colder. It cut against his skin. The stone smelled wet. Beneath it lay another trace. Feeding had happened here before.

Wind moved through the gorge. It pulled at his hood. Sound scattered and faded.

Gabriel left Bridgedon at midday. Guards gave clear directions. He followed them exactly. Three miles north along the river. Then the climb began. Rock formed ledges and shallow crevices. Winged beasts could reach the place from above. From below, the route tested any climber.

The land changed as he moved on. Fields gave way to trees. Trees thinned into bare stone. The path narrowed with each step. Worn grooves marked the way in the cliff.

He watched each step as loose stone broke under his boots. Pieces fell into the gorge. The river below took the sound.

Gabriel stayed in control. He did not rush.

His hand stayed near the sword hilt as he climbed. Crawfiends differed from Vorath in build. Their threat lay in speed and height. In the air, they struck hard. On the ground, the balance shifted to the hunter.

He slowed. His gaze lifted to the rock above. A presence stirred nearby.

Gabriel scanned the sky. He did not fix on one point. A shape crossed the clouds. Wings spread wide but lean. It banked once, turned toward the cliffs, then vanished into a high crevice.

He waited until only wind and river remained. Then he moved on.

The path curved. The nest came into view. A single cavern cut into the cliff face. It was large enough to shelter the creature.

The stone around it showed use. Claw marks cut the rock. Feathers clung in cracks. Remains lay scattered where meals had ended. Nothing moved at the entrance.

Gabriel crouched behind a boulder. He watched without blinking.

Something shifted inside the cave. Only one presence filled the space. Wings brushed stone. This was no colony. The territory belonged to a single beast.

The bounty called for its head. If it took flight, mistakes would cost him.

He checked the ledge above and tightened his grip. He climbed higher until he stood over the entrance. The stone felt weak under his weight. A boulder shifted when he tested it. The hold would not last.

He braced himself and pushed. The rock tore free and fell. It struck the ledge below and shattered. Dust and fragments poured into the cavern.

Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment. He drew in a breath. Scents mixed with the echoes of the gorge. He waited.

"Righteousness Begets Cruelty," he whispered.

An answer came from within.

His eyes opened. Red light flared in the dark. The Crawfiend burst from the entrance. Its wings snapped wide. It cleared the stone in an instant.

Gabriel dropped at the right moment. He hit the ledge hard. His sword cut down in a clean arc. The blade tore through the wing membrane. Lift failed at once.

The beast slammed into stone. It shrieked and rolled. Claws scraped for hold. It recovered fast. One strike swept for his neck.

Gabriel dipped under it. His sword drove into the leg. Steel punched through scale and muscle. The Crawfiend staggered. Its balance broke.

He stepped in. He thrust again. The blade sank into the stomach. He twisted and pulled free. Blood spilled across the stone. The creature thrashed. A claw caught his arm. Pain flared. He did not slow.

He closed the distance. The sword cut across the neck. The head came free. It struck the ledge just before the body fell. Blood spread and steamed in the cold.

Gabriel held position. He watched until the body stilled. The work was finished.

He wrapped the head in cloth and tied it tight. He pushed the body over the edge. It vanished into the gorge. Wings twitched once on the fall. Then nothing followed. Silence returned.

The descent took longer than the climb, and he chose each step with care. Loose stone shifted underfoot but held. He reached the road at dusk.

Bridgedon's lights burned ahead, with smoke drifting above the walls. Evening traffic moved through the north gate, and Gabriel joined it without notice. The sergeant saw the bundle and studied it before looking up.

"You did it."

Gabriel did not reply while the head was unwrapped and checked. Its weight was tested, and the coins were counted by hand. The sergeant nodded once and passed the bundle to another guard.

"Ten silver," the man said.

Gabriel took the money and stepped aside. He left the gate without delay.

Night cooled his skin as he walked through the streets. The coins settled in his pouch, and the kill faded from thought as distance grew. Torches lit the main road, and voices carried from taverns closing for the night.

He chose an inn near the market and paid for a room. Inside, he washed the blood from his hands until the water ran clear. The room held only his gear.

He sat on the bed and sharpened his sword, working the whetstone in slow, even strokes. Steel rang softly in the small space. When the edge was right, he set the blade aside.

Later, he went down to the common room. Smoke hung in the air, and low talk drifted between tables. He drank without comment and listened.

The talk turned to trouble along the roads. Bandits had struck caravans. Beasts had been seen near the fields. Someone mentioned a wyvern in the mountains, and another voice said a bounty had been posted.

Gabriel finished his drink and left a coin on the table. Outside, the night had deepened, and the streets had thinned.

He returned to his room and lay back on the bed. Sleep came without any dreams.

Tomorrow he would get his new sword.

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