Chapter 55

Lord Lubald Worth listened to the sound of children screaming and wished that he had a drink.

They were screaming in joy, not in pain or fear or anything like that, but they were still screaming and it aggravated his senses. The boy that he’d been following today had met up with four others, and they were swimming despite the frigid temperature of the recently thawed water.

Lubald had taken to following a random village child around during the day ever since the letter had come which had threatened, behind so many honeyed words, to remove him from his post if he did not begin to show results. He was not using them as bait. Or at least, that’s what he insisted when the villagers noticed his activities and questioned him about it.

He was not using children as bait. He was protecting the most vulnerable members of the community. The children were out and about anyway; it’s not like he was dipping them in honey and dangling them from a tree. Following them around when they were going about their daily routines was keeping them safe, not exposing them to additional or excess danger.

It was really quite logical when one thought about it. The monsters were mostly a threat to children. The monsters were elusive and only appeared to children. The monsters needed to be culled to prevent them from reaching a population that threatened the local inhabitants. Therefor it made sense that Lubald would follow the children around to protect them.

And, after that unfortunate mistake and the poor joke he’d made to cover up his embarrassment, he’d avoided the girls of the village. Not the women, but certainly the girls.

He sighed. He had not made the best showing of himself as a lord. He knew that. He’d been to taken up with the perks of his position and had neglected its responsibilities. Now that he’d been spending more time sober, he saw how far he’d allowed himself to slip, and he realized what a poor impression he’d made on the Commoners of the village.

He’d cut back on his drinking and focused more intently on his assigned task; finding and culling the Flame Lynxes. As for his other vice, women, well, he’d made enough of an ass of himself for now. Once he’d performed his duty and killed a few of the monsters he’d venture to Tuksan and begin seriously seeking a wife. Perhaps once he was married, he’d be less tempted to flirt with everything with a skirt.

The cold finally became too much for the boys. They spent some time running around in the sunlight while drying, eventually putting their clothes back on and returning to whatever chore it was that they were supposed to be doing before their swim break.

The boy that Lubald had selected as his designated protectee for the day wandered off towards one of the Worthmus orchards after separating from the other boys. What was his name again? Ryun? Rian? R-something. Lubald didn’t really care. He could barely be bothered to remember the names of the important members of the village, let alone their snot-nosed brats.

R-something was eight or nine years old, he thought, and was right at the age where the bestiary said children were most vulnerable to Flame Lynx predation. Which made him the perfect bait.

Not bait, Lubald reminded himself. He was not using a child as live bait for a monster. He wasn’t doing anything wrong; he was protecting a vulnerable child from a monster known to eat children. He just … didn’t know whether the monster would make an appearance or not.

He rather hoped that it would, as he’d finally be able to claim one of the damned monsters’ pelts and prove to everyone that he wasn’t worthless as the village’s protector. Perhaps he’d hang the pelt in the inn, right above his favorite seat.

Yeah, he thought. Let the villagers see the proof of his prowess. Surely the innkeeper would accept the token, and it might impress the villagers enough that they started buying him drinks once more. He rather missed the first few weeks of his time in the village, where everyone wanted to make his acquaintance yet.

He’d have to be careful not to allow himself to fall back into indolence and drunkenness, but simply correcting the image he’d painted of himself over the last few months wasn’t a bad goal to have. He just had to show that he was more than a drunkard. Once the villagers realized that he truly was there to protect their children, surely they’d accept him once more.

All he had to do was actually protect their children. Which he was doing right now, for R-something.

The boy climbed one of the tree and sat in the branches, munching on one of the fruits. Lubald considered breaking stealth and plucking one of the fruits for himself. His stomach growled at the thought; he’d only prepared himself a light breakfast. And he was growing fond of the taste of the local fruits.

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He’d tasted their liquor before coming to the valley; he’d never really liked Worthmus wine or brandy. The fruit itself was sweeter and filling; the fermentation added a slight tang which, while not unpleasant if you had a taste for it, distracted from the flavor. The texture was juicy and pulpy, at least when you picked a properly ripe fruit. Lubald was still learning to tell the ripeness by touch, he’d bitten into a few fruit that were sour from being under-ripe, or bitter from beginning to ferment after spending too long on the tree.

A flicker in the corner of his eye. Lubald went even more still, pumping Stamina into his Stealth skill to overcharge it as he studied the location where the flicker had been.

The creature was also in stealth, the Skill tricking his eyes to overlook it rather than making it invisible. With a bit of focus, Lubald pierced the monster’s skill and saw a Flame Lynx for the first time.

It was rather less impressive than he was expecting. The size of a large dog, it had orange and yellow fur and feline features. It crept up on the unsuspecting boy, and with a start Lubald realized that R-something was actually in danger.

Lubald focused on his task. He crept forward, slipping the bow that he’d slung over his shoulder into a ready position and preparing an arrow. He stalked forward, putting all of his effort into maintaining his Stealth. Neither the boy nor the Lynx knew he was there. Part of his mind wondered if he shouldn’t shout to scare the beast off, but that would ruin his chance to claim the beast’s hide. He resolved to do so if the beast looked like it was preparing to pounce, but for now it simply prowled closer to the tree where the boy perched unaware.

Lubald had several Skills which affected his archery. One which gave him increased perception and clarity of sight while aiming. He had that active now. Another one Empowered his arrows. Empowering a weapon with Stamina was a common trait of Warriors. A third ability increased the lethality of his arrows when he was firing from Stealth.

Lubald hadn’t wanted to awaken as a warrior. He’d hoped to, and expected to, awaken as a rogue, like his mother. Instead he was a Warrior like his father. It didn’t suit his sensibilities to fight in melee, and he’d trained in archery from a very young age. His Archer and Ranger subclasses reflected that training, despite his overclass being that of the meathead variety.

Being a warrior somewhat limited his stealth-related abilities, but enhanced his prowess with his weapon of choice considerably. Had his class been Rogue, then perhaps his initial attack would have done considerably more damage, but his subsequent attacks would have done considerably less. He was confident that over the course of a drawn out battle he was better off as a warrior.

In this instance, however, he might have been better off as a rogue.

The first arrow took the Flame-Lynx in the flank. It recoiled and jerked, screeching in pain. The second arrow took it in the gut. Then it was running away. Lubald used all of his clarity of mind and Stamina enhanced aiming ability to try to line up a third shot, but the animal evaded his best attempt. Then the beast was out of range.

R-something was screaming. Lubald blinked, looking up at the boy. In the moment, he had actually forgotten that the boy was there. There had been only the target, the bow, and the arrow. That sort of oneness came over him occasionally when he drove his Skills to the limit, but typically that was in the practice range and not on an actual hunt.

“You’re fine,” he told the boy. “You were lucky I was here, the beast was looking to find out what little boy tastes like.”

The boy continued screaming. He pulled out the ball of deterrent powder and doused himself with its contents, then dropped to the ground and ran in the direction of the village. Lubald let him go. He had to follow the injured Lynx while the blood trail was still fresh.

The arrowheads Lubald had selected for this task were particularly nasty, jagged things designed to wound and bleed and cause internal damage. To make even more certain of his kill, he had coated them with a poison which would thin the blood and attack the organs.

The trail became easier to follow the further it went. The monster was bleeding heavily, its spoor becoming more frequent and easily tracked the longer the pursuit went on. This was all to Lubald’s benefit; the more the beast bled, the less likely it was to put up a serious resistance when he he finally cornered it.

He tracked the monster back to its lair, but the Flame-Lynx was dead when he arrived.

The seven mewling cubs were not.

Lubald swiftly solved that issue with the hatchet on his belt.

Two hours later, he returned to the village triumphant with eight pelts. Seven much smaller than the other.

~~~~~~~

Basks-in-sunlight returned to find the corpses slowly being reclaimed by the great crystal in the center of all things. The crystal that had given her birth, and her mate, Drinks-the-rain. But her children were not monsters like her, but natural born creatures of the world, part of the cycle of life and death. They were not born able to defend themselves. And so they had died, after her mate had foolishly led the hunter back to their den.

Basks-in-sunlight surveyed the carnage. She sniffed and memorized the scent of the upright-one who had caused it. She remained with her mate and her offspring until at last their bones had been reclaimed by the crystal in the center of all things.

Then she set out, alone.

And she began to hunt.

Lubald was ten kilometers away, celebrating his successful kill with a mug of ale as the villagers cheered and called his name when Basks-in-sunlight killed her first human.