Chapter 11 – Thrill of the Hunt

Dolce, of Alva, looked at the injured riders. On their faces is a shame. They brought their comrades on makeshift stretchers that were dragged by their remaining mounts. The riders had scratches on them. The claw marks on their armor showed the marks of werecat’s claw. The ‘riders’ carried by makeshift stretches were halted by four-wheel carriage. The carriage driver told the chasers to haul the injured on the carriage. They complied and they followed the carriage to the nearest hospital.

“They failed,” Dolce said.

“Sadly they did.” replied the maidservant.

“The crazed bull of the north is worthy of his reputation. To think he would best a battalion worth of riders armed with rifles and live.” Dolce smiled, touching her right cheek.

“The Crazed Bull had help from that Cattus. According to the riders, the Cattus transformed into a werecat, and due to this they lost against the Cattus.”

Dolce lazily leans her cheek with her right hand. “Is that so? What about the dumb slave? What about that little one?”

The maidservant nodded and told her. “The human slave fainted when their carriage exploded. But that slave awoke and killed two men it seems. The little Cattus was then taken by that slave.”

“I see. How did they know that?” asked Dolce.

“One of the men who had his leg blown apart told this humble servant. They say that they heard the bull of the north call the slave Joshua.”

“Joshua?” she smiled, “A good name worthy of a prey.”

“Prey...what do you mean by that madam?” asked the maidservant.

“Did you think that I would be displeased with this result?”

“Yes?”

“Then you are wrong,” she smugly said. “I indeed wanted that slave back. But not to the point my head would swell in anger. That ‘slave’ is my thing. With my relative dead all of his belongings are mine. So that slave should belong to me.” she snickered, “That bull of the north will go to Avilla City. Once he reaches Avila he will have the protection of that bitch of a Warlord. You should have heard the rumors yes?”

“I did.” says the maid while nodding her head, “The Warlord of Avilla has been looking for that bull. Something about an oath made to her father.”

“That’s right. That bull will go to that place. He will receive the blessing of the Warlord on a warpath and his status as a slave will be lifted. The four will have their slavery revoke just by being with that warrior. However, they won’t experience such luxury.”

“Eh? Why?” said the maidservant, “I thought that they won’t be treated like slaves anymore as long as they have the protection of the crazed bull?”

“That’s the problem, my maid. He is the ‘crazed bull’. He’s a bloodthirsty bull of death; a demi-human whose reputation is well known throughout this continent. Do you really think that they will respect a demi-human? Fear him maybe but respect? They will show it to him. But inside they are sneering and spitting. You know how things are.”

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“I see.” said the main in understanding. “But doesn’t it mean that milady will lose her rights to that slave?”

“Maybe.” she smiled lightly, “But it doesn’t mean that we cannot put a bounty on his head. In all Alva, that man shall have a bounty. We’ll offer a bit of gold to capture them back. Of course, with the crazed bull around, that would be hard, that bull will protect them.

The maidservant raised a brow. She was trying to comprehend something that would allow her to understand the thoughts of her master. Of course, Dolce wasn’t really thinking too much. She was simply amused by the events that are happening. She wasn’t angry or frustrated. She was merely thrilled that such thing did not come to her. To describe it, it would be like a flower on top of a mountain. Taking that flower will be troublesome. But the pleasure of the climb and the reaching of that flower make it all worth it.

This is fun, she thought. She looked at the cloudy yet dusty skies of the city of storms. There were clouds of different sizes. There are long-beaked birds with wide wings glide above them. The city of storms won’t be having another storm for quite a well. That’s why she turned to her daydreaming servant.

“Prepare the carriages. We’ll be leaving for Duesa City.”

“Duesa City...why would you want to go there milady?” asked the maidservant.

“Do you want to question me?” said Dolce calmly but coldly.

“No milady, it was my mistake to say such things.”

“Good. Now inform the soldiers. Make sure to put the mansion for sale. Have all the guards and the servants to pack my luggage. Anyone who tries to scour something on my luggage will be killed. So tell them to be careful.” Dolce instructed while having this cruel look on her.

“As you wish milady.” says the maidservant as she walks down the stair, the hemmed of her skirt brushing the floor. Dolce looked at her servant before sneering. She looked at the skies again and pictured what face would that slave when she captures him. It was not like Dolce was evil. She was merely having fun at the expense of some slave. It was natural for her to think this way because of the social hierarchy established. She has noble blood, therefore, she has the right to do so.

Compared to the other nobles like her. She considers this new thrill of hers as rather tame. At least she was not cutting the limbs of her slaves and making them as their toys. At least she wasn’t torturing them. In fact, she was only enjoying the thrill of the hunt. She was the leader of the hunters while the four slaves were her prey.

In fact, she was too lenient. The riders she told to chase them was too small. If she wanted to she could have may huntsman and bounty hunters chase after them. But to Dolce, it won’t be that much fun.