The spear-like ice structures now encasing the headless serpent sparkled from the sunlight caressing its crystal surface. Since their artifacts had two hours left, indicated by two of its grooves still lit, Mitch's party admired their work for a time. Mitch had hunted frost serpents before so a spectacle like this wasn't anything new.

Removing one of the serpent's icy scales proved to be more difficult than expected. If this was a simple hunting mission, they would've already left. Instead, biologists asked for samples to continue their research on frost serpents.

After they'd carefully removed one of its scales, they placed it in a jar and began to depart.

"Can't wait for that sweet reward." the dagger wielder babbled.

His eyes closed and inhaled, pretending to mistake the scent of dry leaves and wood for the smell of coins.

"I can practically smell it."

"Relax, it's not going anywhere." the conjurer sighed.

They made their way back to the tunnel they'd come from. As his teammates conversed, the more experienced ranger slowed his pace. His gaze narrowed as if searching for something but was only met with the tunnel's wall of darkness.

He'd faced countless dangers throughout his life as a ranger so he thought he'd become numb to the feeling of adversity. Yet he couldn't bring himself to move forward as if his body protested his commands. He wasn't sure what was wrong but the voice in his head screamed for him not to enter that tunnel.

His party members noticed his odd behavior, regarding him with raised eyebrows. That's when they heard it. A soft whistle, accompanied by the sound of scraping, echoing from the tunnel stopped the men in their tracks.

Their gazes never left the tunnel's entrance. A pressure they hadn't felt before weighed on the experienced rangers. The soft yet ominous tune carried a cold air that clung to their bones. Despite having more than an hour left on their artifacts, the chilling sensation crept up their bodies.

They hardly regarded the frost serpent as intimidating, yet a simple tune rendered them unable to move? They couldn't explain it. Never had they imagined that a simple lullaby could be weaponized to root them in place.

The whistling grew louder along with the scraping which they could now discern as something metallic grinding against stone. Sparks flickered in the darkness, the petrified men seeing flashes of a dark-cloaked figure approaching them.

"That has to be him...right?" the conjurer asked.

"Without a doubt..." Mitch responded, struggling to contain his fear.

Although they had a copy of the public hunt mission sheet, intending to eventually hunt the serial killer, they didn't expect to run into him like this.

Finally, the figure stepped into the light, confirming their suspicions. The mission sheet gave a general description of the Ripper that they looked over before their departure.

A red scarf.

A black trench coat.

Dark stringy hair.

There was no question about it.

The man drew closer, continuing to drag what they now recognized as a scythe along the ground, digging a trail through the frosty soil. An amulet with an ancient design and a red gem embedded in its center hung from his neck. A subtle red mist oozed from him, flowing down to his feet like a crimson cloak.

"Now would be a good time for those buffs," Mitch ordered his conjurer.

"R-Right," he replied, waving his staff as radiance once again enveloped his two comrades. His face looked considerably more strained than before due to a combination of unease and strain.

This was the second time he'd used this ability on them and it put stress on him. But if what they heard about the Ripper was true, they couldn't afford to hold back.

The two melee fighters arched themselves and blasted forward, leaving craters behind. They winded up their weapons as they made their rapid approach and perfectly synchronized their attacks.

𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨!

A colony of sparks exploded from the impact, flying in every direction. The wind whipped the man's trench coat as it stripped the ground behind him of its frost, exposing the pale greenery underneath.

To their utter shock, the Ripper had blocked their strikes with the shaft of his scythe. It had a sinister red glow to it. Even as the wind parted his mask of stringy hair momentarily they couldn't get a good look at his face as they were too dumbfounded.

"How the..." the dagger wielder mumbled.

Something wasn't right. Even when the frost serpent had ample time to prepare for its last desperate attack, it still couldn't react in time. And yet this man...

He casually pushed them back with just enough force to send them skidding.

Although they weren't sure of the full extent of his power, they could tell he was holding back. By how much, they didn't know but holding back nonetheless. The dagger wielder imagined a smug smile behind that curtain of hair which only angered him.

Mitch and the dagger wielder gave each other knowing nods and dashed to the Ripper's flanks. Fortunately, they've been working together for so long that they've become familiar with each other. Time was precious on the battlefield. Relaying plans to one another on the fly could prove detrimental regardless if it's a sound strategy or not.

Experienced rangers understood this. Additionally, an enemy such as the Ripper would remain oblivious to the plan if it wasn't spoken aloud anyway.

The two rangers closed the distance in a flash, both raising their weapons until...

𝘚𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘵! 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘮!

Mitch felt something cold in his side. Looking down he found the scythe's blade wedged between his ribs. At the same time, the Ripper had driven his foot into the dagger wielder's stomach, doubling over as his last meal came bursting from his mouth.

Mitch's sword was still held high when the man ripped the blade from his side. His body finally realized it had been wounded, unleashing a torrent of shooting pain at the site.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Aaagh!" he cried.

He collapsed to the ground writhing in pain while scrambling to fish something out of his satchel.

The Ripper then turned his attention to the barely recovered dagger wielder, launching an assault of his own as he swung the scythe from different angles.

Dodging attacks from all sides? The dagger wielder thought this was his specialty. But the nicks and tears accumulating in his flesh evaporated his confidence.

Gleaming arcs formed as the scythe danced around the Ripper's body, reducing the man before him into chunks of meat. Mitch watched with wide eyes as his ally's eviscerated body crumbled away, blood spewing from every wound.

The conjurer fought his urge to vomit as the Ripper turned his head in his direction.

The buff was no use. He could clearly match their speed and continuously enhancing two people at once took a toll on his pool of radiance.

Releasing the buff, he then hurriedly fired missiles toward the man. However, the Ripper didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he twirled the scythe in front of him, forming an impenetrable wall of slashes.

"What in the...!" the conjurer was too dumbstruck, rendering him unable to finish his sentence.

The scythe-wielding maniac rapidly advanced, slicing his way through the missile barrage while leaving behind a trail of red mist. The amulet around the Ripper's neck began to give off a harsh red glow as an electric current popped around it.

The current grew more violent as he leaped into the air with his scythe held high. Suddenly, a storm of crimson lightning erupted from him, drowning the icy cavern in a hellish red. Its haunting roar ripped through the once-still air, gnawing at the rangers' eardrums. Debris flung each time the red tendrils found a surface to strike.

This wasn't radiance. It couldn't have been.

"Holy..." the conjurer's thought was cut short after the Ripper had fired a disk of lightning towards him.

As a last line of defense, he flicked his staff directly in front of him and called forth a wall of radiance. No matter how the Ripper thought he was, there was no way he could get past his defenses. Not even the frost serpent could achieve such a feat.

He watched as the disk soared toward him until...

𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘔!

Mitch watched with horrified eyes as the attack collided with the barrier. A thunderous explosion deafened him as chunks of the ground were launched in every direction, evaporating the frost in an instant.

A red hue flickered through the cloud of vapor as the Ripper landed. When the smoke cleared, Mitch was greeted with a gruesome sight. Lying within a crater was his conjurer ally, or what was left of him. Sections of his flesh had been seared off, exposing the charred bones underneath.

The Ripper stared at his remains. Mitch couldn't see his expression but judging by the bouncing of his shoulders, it was clear he found this situation rather amusing.

"The world can't deny it now..." The Ripper murmured.

Mitch didn't know, neither cared what this maniac was on about, his trembling hand finally finding what he was rummaging for. He pulled out a health elixir and quickly downed its contents. The searing pain gradually vanished as his body stitched itself back together.

He took a good look at what was left of his fallen comrades, the men he'd been adventuring with for years. His terror boiled into anger as he stood up carefully so as to not alert the Ripper, infusing his sword. This was his chance.

He dashed forward while the Ripper's back was turned and, in his blind rage, he slashed at his trench coat. The Ripper stumbled back in surprise as he failed to take into account his surroundings. If Mitch wasn't blinded by the mist of anger, he would've gauged the distance properly and his blade would've gone deeper.

Unfortunately from him, that wasn't the case. Red lightning coiled around his scythe as kicked Mitch in his sternum, sending him plowing into an ice pillar.

The force of the impact dislodged his artifact and nature's cold grip once again began dragging down his body temperature. Before he could even think to recover, a crimson blade had already plunged into his chest.

A faint whimper managed to escape his lips as the limited air in his punctured lungs didn't allow him to scream. Red tendrils ate away at his flesh leaving behind a seared mess of a corpse, the intense heat bleeding through the pillar.

After Mitch went limp he retrieved his scythe, holstering it on his back. He took the time to admire his handy work. A crooked grin split his face behind his scarf as a wheezy chuckle seeped through his yellow teeth. His trench coat whipped as he turned to leave, leaving behind the charred bodies for someone unfortunate rangers to discover.

*****

Yakeru and Kenji walked a dirt path until it splintered into trails leading to small houses that dotted the green fields.

"There it is. My village."

Kenji was in awe at the scenery. Grassy fields complimented the blue sky. Clothes hanging out to dry swayed in the gentle breeze while distant figures, what he assumed were kids, ran around outside.

It was a complete contrast to Hanataru—the first village he'd ever been to. Initially, he knew nothing of life outside the capital. As a child, his father never gave him the privilage of venturing outside the capital. Not before his father's accident and certainly not after. But now his new profession opened the doors for that opportunity.

"Wow, it looks so peaceful." Kenji admired.

"Come on. I'll introduce you to my sister."

Waves rippled through the grass as Yakeru led him to his residence. It was a one-story home and looked rather plain though Kenji saw it as an upgrade compared to what he saw at the last village.

Yakeru gave the door a few knocks. He could hardly contain his excitement. Though it's only been days, it felt like he hadn't seen his sister in forever. He eagerly awaited to tell her all about his intense first adventure.

Seconds after knocking, they heard rapid footsteps approaching from inside. The door clicked and swung open with his sister on the other side.

"Hey, Akari," Yakeru said but stopped when he saw the state she was in.

Akari's eyes were wide and glassy, tears welling up in the corners. Her usually well-kept auburn hair was wild. The bags under her eyes suggested she hadn't slept either. Worried, Yakeru asked,

"Are you oka-" But was interrupted mid-sentence when she lunged at him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Am I okay? I don't hear from you for days all while some lunatic is running around and you ask if I'm okay?!" She released him to grip his shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Don't you know people are going missing left and right?!"

She pulled him into another tight embrace. Yakeru was stunned for a moment but remembered he had been gone for the past few days.

How could he have been so insensitive? He was so fixated, so thrilled about going on his first mission that the thought of telling her where he'd gone hadn't even crossed his mind. Now a serial killer was making a name for themselves.

He couldn't imagine the amount of stress he put on her even if that wasn't his intention. At the end of the day, he was still a kid, still prone to making stupid mistakes.

"You little brat...!" She sniffled.

"I'm sorry, Akari. I wasn't thinking." He stroked her back consolingly.

A tear slid down her face, despite her forcing them back.

"You don't say."

They stayed in each other's arms for a few minutes until she'd calmed down enough to look up, finally acknowledging the stranger Yakeru had come with. He stood awkwardly to the side, pretending to be preoccupied with his staff. She wiped the wet trails from her face left by the tears.

"So who's this?"

Yakeru's eyebrows shot up in realization.

"Oh, right! This is Kenji. We took the examination together and he's also in my party. Kenji, this is my sister, Akari."

Kenji gave her a polite bow.

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

She smiled and waved a hand.

"Oh please, 'Akari's' fine. The word 'ma'am' is a bit too formal for my taste. Plus it makes me feel old."

"But aren't you twen-" Yakeru was interrupted when her fist slammed into his arm. "Ow!"

An innocent smile played on her face. She thought he knew better not to mention a woman's age.

"Anyways, come on in you two. I'll make ya something to eat."

After walking inside, Kenji politely excused himself for intruding. They sat at the dining table, Yakeru diving into the story of his first adventure. Kenji included minor details that Yakeru missed throughout the story while Akari prepared a small meal.

She'd seen many sights over the years but none quite held a candle to her brother's infectious excitement. The way he smiled brilliantly as he rambled about their travels warmed her heart. It was a feeling she always enjoyed when telling him stories of her own adventures.

"Wow, you helped a whole village, huh? That's impressive. I'm proud of you, kid," She set the food in front of the two boys. "Though I can't say it's comforting knowing you had to fight not only a C-tier monster, but two B-tiers too..."

"I know. But our other party member, Fuyumi, is really strong. She practically carried us on our journey." Yakeru reassured, jutting his thumb toward his new armor which was now lying on the ground in a corner. "And I got some new armor too. Cool, right?"

She eyed the scratched-up light armor in the lonely corner.

"That's new?"

They continued making small talk before finishing their food. Akari stood up to collect their plates as Yakeru and Kenji grabbed their weapons.

"We're gonna do some light training outside. See you in a bit."

She placed the dishes in the sink.

"Cool, see ya when you get back."