Chapter 244: The Hunters Guild

Chapter 244: The Hunters Guild

Stryg had counted thirty people in their small caravan. Nine of them were from the academy, five professors, and four students, including himself. Gale and Lysaila were two last-minute additions, but very much welcomed by their caravan leader, Ismene, the Tempest Arch-Mage. Ismene preferred to have as much combat potential on her team as possible. Stryg wholeheartedly agreed, war had come to Dusk Valley, and one never knew where it might strike next.

There were ten guards, who took shifts guarding the caravan and their camp at night. None of them were mage-borns, but they were soldiers from House Katag; they were well equipped and the best-trained soldiers in Hollow Shade.

There were six wagon and carriage drivers, along with a cook and his assistant, and a pair of laborers, who helped set up camp and carry crates and whatever else the caravaneers might need. Stryg didnt speak much with any of them, not that he particularly tried to, but they shied away from the mages save for the occasional polite greeting.

Instead, Stryg spent his mornings training his sword forms with Gale and Lysaila, and spent his evenings meditating with Ismene and his three teammates. The rest of the day was mostly spent walking or riding in the carriage as they traveled down the dirt roads to Undergrowth.

The week passed by in a blur of hills and tall grass. By the end of the fifth day, the green trees of Glimmer Grove forest spanned across the horizon.

Freya stuck her head out of the carriage window and pointed at the tree line. Finally, were so close! she cried out in relief. Ill be able to take a bath soon!

Actually we still have around two days before we reach Undergrowth, Callum said.

Thanks for killing my hopes, Freya scowled and sat back in her chair with a pout.

I just want to eat something besides dried meat and bread, Stryg groaned. A nice cold mug of ale would be nice too, or some wine. I could go for some dwarven brews too.

Oh my gods, youre still thinking about drinking! Freya yelled. You literally finished all the booze we had!

That was two days ago and Im not the one who started the drinking challenge, Stryg crossed his arms.

I do mildly regret that, Callum said wryly.

I should never have bet so much money on Sylvie, Freya whispered remorsefully.

Its not her fault, she doesnt like to drink, right, Sylvie? Callum asked the dire woman sitting next to him. Sylvie?

Huh? What? Sylvie looked up, startled.

Callum furrowed his brow, Youve been pretty out of it these past few days, are you alright?

Um, Sylvies scarlet eyes glanced at Stryg and then quickly glanced back to Callum. ...Yeah, Im fine. Just a bit nervous about the tournament I guess.

Callum slipped his fingers between hers and smiled, So am I.

Freya pointed out the window, Hey guys, look! I think thats the Hunters Guilds camp over there!

A dozen or so green tents blended into the tall grass in the distance. It would have been difficult to spot if not for the two dozen centaurs standing nearby. A lone centaur and his rider rode out from the camp and hailed the caravan.

~~~

The students carriage door swung open, Loh stood at the doorway, her face filled with cold determination.

Can we get out now? Freya asked.

Not yet, Loh said.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

When are we going into the forest? Stryg asked eagerly. He had missed the trees, more than he cared to admit. They were already at the forests edge, he could almost smell the scent of leaves in the air.

Its not safe to travel in the dark, well head out first thing in the morning, Loh said. Well camp out here with the hunters tonight.

So can we leave the stuffy carriage already? Freya asked impatiently.

Listen, Loh said sternly. We need to have a quick chat before I let any of you outside.

Understood, master, Stryg nodded.

I dont think thats why Stryg whispered. He stared at each hunter in return, searching for any potential weapons hidden underneath their cloaks.

At the center of the camp stood two women, Ismene resting comfortably on her cane, and a woman with bright red curls.

The guild leader had a wiry frame, she stood tall, even compared to men. She spoke in a quiet voice, but her hands moved constantly. She spotted Loh and the others, and smiled, her eyes filled with a stilled calm.

Welcome to our humble encampment, Miss Noir. I am Astrid, leader of the Hunters Guild. Its a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, she bowed low.

The pleasure is mine, Loh smiled politely. I appreciate you personally coming to guide us through Glimmer Grove.

Well, when the great Lord Noir himself requests a guide for his academys finest, how could I not? Astrid said. She glanced at the four students behind Loh and smiled wide, Hello, you must be the future champions of Hollow Shade, it is very nice to meet you. I am Astrid of the Hunters Guild, may I have the honor of knowing your names?

Hi, Im Sylvie, the dire hybrid grinned.

Good evening, Miss Astrid, I am Callum of the Great House of Veres, he bowed with a flourish.

Freya brushed her blonde hair aside, the golden beads in her braids shining brightly in the sunset, I am Freya of the Great House of Goldelm, but you may call me Miss Goldelm.

Astrids eyes widened, I knew the Tempest Arch-Mage would be traveling with a scion of House Noir, but this is unprecedented. Scions of Great Houses? Not just Noir, but Katag, Glaz, Goldelm, and Veres! Here? In my encampment? She went down on one knee and bowed her head, I am deeply honored to be your guide.

Ismene nodded, And we are grateful for your guidance. Stryg, why dont you introduce yourself too? Stryg?

Stryg stood stock still, his pupils thin as a blades edge. His muscles were taut and he stared out into nothingness. The tall grass all around them suddenly fell flat and the air began to vibrate quietly. Strands of hair slowly rose from their scalps.

The group looked around in surprise and confusion. Only Freya seemed a little less confused; she turned and looked for Stryg, but he was gone.

Stryg had walked away without even glancing at Loh or the others. He ignored the voices of his friends calling out to him. His legs moved as if almost in a trance. He strode past the tents and made his way to a small campfire where a few hunters and their centaurs ate their dinner.

With a casual gait Stryg drew Nameless from its sheath. He stepped forward and swung his blade in a wide upward arc, slicing off the forelegs of a grey centaur in one clean swipe.

The centaur screamed in agony and fell forward, unable to hold his own weight. The hunters and other centaurs jumped back in shock at the gruesome sight. Stryg ignored their cries and placed his foot on the grey centaurs neck and collar. The old centaur tried pushing Stryg away but he barely managed a sputtering gasp as the collar bent under the sudden force.

Stryg leaned forward and shifted all his weight onto the helpless beastkins throat. He stared down at the centaur, cold indifference in his lilac eyes, Having trouble breathing? Maybe you should just sleep.

The centaurs panicked eyes widened with recognition.

Stryg cocked his head to the side, No? Cant sleep? Let me help you.

Stryg raised his foot and kicked down with all the force of his rage. The ground shuddered and cracked underneath the blow, the metal collar shattered, and the centaurs neck snapped in a splatter of blood and bone.

The other centaurs screamed and galloped away as fast they could, abandoning their riders. The hunters scrambled to their feet and ran to the tents. Stryg hurled Nameless in the air in a blur of steel. The blade struck a hunter in the calf and pierced through his shin. The hunter cried out in pain and collapsed on the bloodied grass.

Stryg stared at the whimpering man; he was bald save for the grey hairs above his ears he hadnt changed.

Stryg sauntered towards him, Its been almost three years, a lifetime for some. Do you remember me, poacher? He smiled eerily, I never forgot you.

A shiver ran down the hunters spine, he trembled uncontrollably and raised his hands as if to somehow ward away the monster that stood over him. W-who a-are you!?

Hm, accents not bad, but horrible pronunciation. I doubt I could sell you for very much.

S-sell me? the hunter frowned in confusion.

Obviously. Slaves make money. And a man needs to eat. Isnt that what you said?

The hunter furrowed his brow, a faint memory scratching at his mind. He stared at Strygs lilac eyes and gasped in horror. ...Y-you! Y-youre t-the

The goblin of Vulture Woods.