Bariin cursed under his breath. With the Seventh month quickly approaching, it was imperative that the village clear every monster as quickly as they could, especially the Veil-touched.

Regular monsters could be defended against with enough training and the right equipment, but for the Veil-touched, it was never certain the kind of abilities they came with. Most like him, would discover magic, becoming Beast Mages dangerous enough to threaten entire villages.

The rest were what truly scared him however. There was never enough preparation to fight against what you didn’t know. Which made losing that young goblin so unnerving.

He had known it was Veil-touched the moment it’s mana touched the air. As they had chased it down however, not once did the creature cast a spell nor even a cantrip. The skills to do so came naturally to a mage, and would have been like second nature to them. Study helped of course, but even the most rudimentary could cast a Volt or two.

That it did not do so spoke of grave danger to the community. A Unique.

He had seen one before, but the last appeared back when he was a teen. On the eve of the Seventh, a Naminarean Ogre had been spotted. The large, clammy creature had the uncanny ability to split into smaller versions of itself. Which when considering the initial size of the creature, didn’t do much to mellow it’s destructive capabilities. Villages burned almost every fortnight, his own being one of the first.

It had required the combined assistance of the western lords to quell the beasts. Mages of varying caliber could be seen traveling from town to town the moment word came round that one of the clones had been sighted. Eventually, enough of the creature had been slaughtered such that the danger from the remaining had mellowed.

He shuddered at the memory. Thirty winters later and the nightmares still plagued him occasionally. He’d be damned if he allowed the same things to happen again on his watch. If only the rest of the village could understand his urgency.

There was no other choice but to call the hunt off unfortunately. The formation of the men had broken, their practiced motions disrupted from the oddly specific way the goblins had run off. Plus, if the Unique was in possession of more than magic, continuing the chase could have proven disastrous, especially since tonight was meant to only cull the beasts in the nearby area.

Kera forbid he lose a single one of the men here. He already had a tough enough time convincing them to come out night after night.

A casualty would have the village wives up in arms, and they were just as scary as any Veil-touched.

“Jerrod. A word.” he spoke quietly to a teen eating his supper. Rolling his eyes at the summons, the young man got up from the log he was seated on, marching over with exaggerated movements.

He stuffed into his mouth the still cold sausage he had been trying to warm at the fire, wiping his hands on the furs and leathers that served as his shirt.

“What can I do fer ya Chief?” said Jerrod.

Bariin sighed. The young man had the makings of a good leader, but much too free-spirited and playful at the moment. Traits that would require tempering if he were ever to head the village.

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"Gather up the men, but leave two behind. We need to perform the cleansing tonight, and there isn't much time left." he replied. "Net and Chase."

"That's gonna have them grumbling yer ear off Chief. Already tired enough as it is chasing those two imps." said Jerrod. "Hate that we have to do this at night all the time too."

Better grumbling than dead from the Seventh. thought Bariin.

"You and I know it's for our own safety. The monsters in this forest are rarely nocturnal, and they sleep like the dead. If we want the Seventh to be any easier this year, night's the best time to do it." he responded.

"Yeah yeah. Just wish you'd cast us some more light. I've already hit my head three times tonight and I'm sure there's gonna be a fourth." muttered Jerrod, feet dragging across the ground.

He walked off into the camp, tapping at several men who threw him dirty looks, their rest broken. Bariin saw his protégé off, before returning his attention to the two escapees. A single Beast Mage would have the village already scrambling in arms. A Unique was a whole other story.

Before he could report it to the Baron though, he required proof that it was one. Somehow he needed to not just find the creature once again, but to bait it into revealing it’s abilities. They had failed now, but they'd be properly prepared the next time round.

He could already feel the beginnings of a headache creeping up on him. This year’s Seventh would likely be awfully eventful.

[https://i.ibb.co/9NqMSN8/goblin.png]

“You heard the Chief! Get those nets and spears out!” hollered Jerrod. The movement was simple. Half the men would act as the hammer to an anvil, chasing as many creatures as they could into the waiting nets of the rest of the team. After which, spears and choppers would make short work of the entangled beasts. Hopefully that would be enough to lessen the usual hordes that appeared every Seventh Month.

Shaking off the strands of brown hair that irritated his eyes, he watched as his orders were followed grudgingly. The skill at which they performed the movements however, was impressive, no doubt due to Bariin's nightly raids.

Six men wielding rough wooden shields and axes moved ahead of the others, the wooden planks held firmly in front of them. The rest hid back in the brush, ready to shift on a moment's notice.

It didn't take long. Soon, a steady thumping of metal on wood signaled that the vanguard had discovered monsters. Jerrod strained his ears and listened intently.

No screams or shouts so far. Good. That meant Veil-touched weren't included in the prey. Snarls and barks echoed from between the trees, almost immediately drowned out by the drum-like rhythm.

Edge Wolves then. Jerrod joined the forefront of the anvil, steadying his left arm in anticipation. As the militia vice-captain, the man was entitled to slightly better equipment, his shield padded with Boarrite-hide, allowing him to better endure any claws and teeth.

Nudging his way to the center, he gripped his spear tightly, ready to earn his position. In the event a Veil-touched made an appearance, being in the front helped in maintaining morale too. Nothing would kill better than desperation and wild panic.

From the distance, he spotted the Edge Wolves sprinting in their direction. The beasts sprinted through the forest, their insectoid legs making good speed despite the uneven terrain.

He counted about five, which was a good number considering they lacked the men to properly pull off such a maneuver. Once the prey neared the catch box, Jerrod jumped out.

"Now!" he roared. He charged at the approaching beasts, stunning them and stalling their charge for just a split second.

It was enough. Nets woven from animal hair and plant fibers landed on the creatures, tripping and entangling them. Caught within, the wolves tore at the nets, biting and clawing at the fibers helplessly.

A few of the nets frayed easily, with some even breaking apart. But enough survived to keep the monsters trapped.

Long enough for Jerrod and his men to jump at the chance. Their iron spears stabbed into the mess of fur and teeth, reaping the monsters of their lives swiftly. It was dangerous and messy work, but the village would be the safer for it.

By the end, five mangled bodies lay unmoving in the nets. There would be little use for their pelts, the weapons having torn through them like butter, but the meat could still be salvaged. Markus, the butcher's son got down to work swiftly, the small knife at his side making quick work in harvesting what was left.

It was a bloodied but boisterous group that brought back the harvested meat to the river, reveling in the kills.

Of course, everyone there knew the real goal was to survive the Seventh. One could only enjoy food alive after all.

Each man was handed their share of the harvested meat wrapped in waxy kodoka leaves to take home, payment for services rendered. The easily-found leaves preserved raw edibles well, though they tended to instill an earthy flavor into the mix.

Jerrod trudged back to Barrin to report the victory, wiping his gut covered hands on his tunic. Tonight at least, the men would rest earlier. The culling was a success.