Hunter policy #00003 (Redacted):

The extermination of all threats, large and small, is paramount to the Hunter way. These threats will come in all forms, and must be addressed with swift, decisive actions. Hesitation of any kind will not be tolerated.

Gwyn gritted her teeth. She leaned against a metal pole near the forge where her enchanted item was getting forged by the local Harvesters and Enchanters, careful not to aggravate the large bandage wrapped around her ribs. Those in the forge were quick and efficient, making even the most arrogant dwarf back home grunt in respect at their dedication, but Gwynneth Ironfist couldn’t appreciate that right now. Her mind was elsewhere.

It was bad enough that the traitor had spirited away with her beloved tomahawks. It was worse that she saw her now with that boyishly faced elf called Lendolin. Gwyn scowled each time the traitorous whore scanned for her and what remained of their team. She would make her pay.

She would make them all pay.

First, they stole Thea from them. Then that villain, Charles, nearly killed Azuris while he defended Elio’s prone form. She could still see it now. Thea fell right as the tiefling had reached into nothingness only to procure a thin blade of bone and emitted a vicious aura. He had turned the tide, then. Gwyn smirked softly as she remembered the look of dumbfounded shock on Charles’ face when his enchanted blade struck that weapon. The sound of a shriek preluded each and every rune in that human’s sword going dark. The ivory weapon ate the magic, and it left naught but a slag of useless steel in its wake.

Though Gwyn had been injured, she had seen that strange item clearly. It would be forever seared into her mind. It wasn’t the power in wielded that she couldn’t unsee, nor even the unholy shriek Charles’ powerful blade exuded right before it was destroyed. No. It was the fact that there was not a single rune on Azuris’ bone-blade. She asked him about it, but he made her and Elio swear an oath of utmost secrecy about it. Though he didn’t say it, Gwyn knew in her heart that the look Az had given them was one of dark resignation. Elio didn’t see it, but she did. She knew that if they spoke of that weapon without his permission, Azuris would kill them.

Right then, Gwynneth wished he would bring it out, as the bane of her existence regaled yet another group of returned cadets about his ‘daring exploits.’ Gwyn sneered. She didn’t know who she wanted to gouge more: Lysandra the traitor, or Gavin the thief.

“There I was, all alone in the third fold! My friends were slain all around me, and yet that ugly bastard licked its lips as it prepared to eat me too! The wyvern must’ve been the size of a large cottage, though I’d hardly know if that estimate was accurate given my lack of experience in such places. I do know that when it loomed over me, the sun was entirely blotted out!” Gavin proclaimed for all to hear.

“How’d you kill it?” One doe-eyed woman in the Fisher green asked. Her voice was husky with desire. Gwyn nearly gagged at the sight.

“Well, fair maiden, I did what all Orions do.” Gavin paused for dramatic effect. “I stabbed it in the heart until it reentered the seven hells.” His declaration was met with a hearty cheer.

“What will your Epic-tiered enchantment be?” Another person asked, this one a green-eyed elf in the Orion blacks.

“Well,” Gavin paused again before a devious grin reached his lips. “I was thinking that because it will be a wind-based enchantment, there was no other choice than to make a sword that could tame the very surges that plague us!”

Another cheer.

Good grief. Such a waste of a good wyrm, Gwyn thought bitterly. If it was up to her, she would’ve spread the enchantment to her tomahawks, creating a telekinetic bond with each of them. Sure, most of the sheer power from the Epic-tiered monster would’ve been lost. But in its place would be a level of lethal control few could rival. I’m going to get that scale back, Gwyn promised herself for the hundredth time.

“Pay him no mind, Gwyn. We’ll get him back, you’ll see,” Azuris intoned, and Gwyn returned her attention to the forge and saw the single iron circlet begin to glow with purplish energy. Gwyn couldn’t help but be disappointed in her first enchantment. Before she could grab it, a loud voice cut through the cacophony of their camp.

“Hunters! There is only a few minutes remaining of the first Hunt! Prepare to leave once the final call rings out!” Headmaster Felwirth informed her audience with a stoic expression.

“Here ya go, miss Ironfirst,” the forgemaster in charge of her item yelled over the returning clang of hammers. She shoved off the pole and approached the forge, uncaring of the heat that sweltered in this pitched tent. Orange runes turned the open-aired pavilion in a warm light, the tiny runes set into the canvas like a precaution against an untimely bonfire.

Gwyn grabbed the circlet and placed it on her brow without fanfare.

“As you know, that Rare-classed Clinker is quite a nasty bugger. It took us longer than we’re proud of to dismantle its carapace to get at that brain, but we managed. We appreciate your patience, of course, Orion. Hope you like it. Oh, and here are the accompanying pendants. Make sure they’re firmly secured a’fore you start tossin’ ‘em this way and that, ya hear?” The burly forgemaster demanded with a no-nonsense glare. Gwyn was not intimidated, but nodded knowingly. She knew the risks.

She turned and walked away, past where Azuris waited with Elio for his new enchanted item. Though she didn’t show it, she felt a brief pang of warmth toward the tiefling. He hadn’t needed to go hunting for such dangerous prey so that they would get something good at the end of the Hunt, and yet he went above and beyond to care for them. He tended to their wounds, foraging for herbs that he turned into salves for their injuries. They had taken up until the second-to-last day to return through that circular tunnel, and it was just in time too. Beasts had been running amuck through the first fold in an effort to claim a slice of the carnage that had occurred there. How they got through all of those nasty lupines without a fight was a mystery to Gwyn, but she just added it to the list of things Azuris had miraculously done on their behalf.

She owed him her life, and so much more. And she always paid her debts.

With another nod to her two remaining friends, she beelined for her quarry. She passed dozens of students who milled about, careful to avoid the large circle Gavin had gathered. She walked straight up to Lizzy, who yelped when she twisted and saw her. Lendolin, the fool, stepped protectively in front of the traitor.

“Move,” Gwyn hissed at the large elf. He didn’t budge. “Move.”

“Get out of here, you foul deep-dweller. My lady Lysandra wants nothing to do with you!” Lendolin sneered. Gwyn’s heart twisted at the words, rage her only comfort as she stared down the tall cadet. The warrior then spat on the ground and turned away from the unarmed dwarf.

His mistake.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Gwyn rushed forward and snapped one steel-toed boot into the back of the elf’s knee. He stumbled and Gwyn jumped, grabbing his unarmored neck. She twisted and shoved down, all in one fluid motion. Within a second, the elf went from aloof to breathless and bruised on the uneven ground. Gwyn followed up with a vicious kick to the boy’s ribs.

“Gwyn! What are you—” Lysandra screamed, and got the attention of everyone nearby. Gwynneth ignored her and lunged past to snatch up a familiar belt.

“These are mine, traitor.” Gwyn’s words were like a slap to Lizzy's face and she recoiled back.

“Please, let me explain, I—” the elf Gwyn once considered a friend said, but she swiveled on one heel and started to walk away. A slender hand grabbed her wrist, and Gwyn reacted on instinct and adrenaline. She broke the grip and twisted the hand in question until she heard several snaps. Lysandra screamed as several of her fingers were bent in the wrong directions.

“Don’t ever touch me again, witch.” Gwyn walked away for all of three steps before a muscular human in the garments of a professor stepped in her path.

“Now, that’s quite a strong way to deal with a fellow cadet,” Professor Hawthorne intoned with a disappointed sigh. “But I can’t say it’s wholly undeserved. But do try to avoid unprovoked injuries in the future, is that clear, cadet Ironfist?” He asked. There was steel in his tone, but Gwyn’s anger boiled over.

“It was provoked, sir,” she spat, her eyes downcast. The leather in her grip groaned as her fists tightened.

“Ahh, I see. Well, the sentiment remains,” he concluded.

“I’m sorry, Alaric, but while you may be understanding, those aren’t the rules here at the Academy.” A new, lower, voice said. They both turned and saw professor Redmoor, her combat instructor, stalk toward them with a stormcloud in his eyes. He looked ready to fight, and Gwyn knew she was in no condition to fight him.

“The Hunt has officially come to an—” Felwirth’s cut out suddenly.

“Now, see here Boaz—” professor Hawthorne started, but a commotion near the circular gateway drew all of their attention. Lysandra’s quiet moans of pain were drowned out as more exclamations of surprise, shock, and fear rang out.

“Orions! Defensive positions!” Redmoor yelled as whatever he saw through the crowd redirected his ire. Bodies shifted for a heartbeat as panic and indecision caused hesitation in all of the first years. Even Gwyn paused, though more out of confusion than anything else. “NOW!” He bellowed and everyone began to move at once. Gwyn expertly dawned her old belt and tucked away the pendants in one of her secure pockets. She would add them to her beloved tomahawks later.

She reached the frontlines near where Azuris stood, his daggers at the ready. His stance shifted suddenly as the mist that clung to the long tunnel silhouetted several large forms.

“AT THE READY!” Redmoor yelled. Swords were unsheathed and armor was conjured. The cadets, most of whom had only just acquired their new enchantments, prepared for battle. Gwyn felt another brief flare of emotion, this one lasting a little longer than the last. Anticipation. Her grip tightened on the two tomahawks she had at the ready.

“Wait. Is that—” Azuris breathed next to her. She squinted and followed his gaze.

“AIM!” Redmoor commanded, and the thrum of dozens of projectiles filled the early evening air. For a breathless moment, all that moved was the wind in the trees, the mist as it shifted endlessly, and the silhouettes of several giant forms. The nearer they got, however, Gwynneth noticed that there was a smaller form in front of the others.

“FIRE!”

The order sent a barrage of multicolored spears, arrows, and crossbow bolts toward the figures. Too much happened at once for Gwyn to fully comprehend it all. She heard the unsettling tear of reality as the power of Zengos were used, leaving empty mist in the place of at least two of the large forms. Nearest the front, movement caught her attention. The small form she had clocked earlier jetted upward in a blast of kinetic force. The blast of magic was enough to disrupt the shots sent their way, causing several to clash into one another and increase the sudden explosion. Smoke replaced the fog and Gwyn looked upward to see if she could spot the intruder.

“What was that?!”

“Zengos?! Here?!”

“Where’s Gavin?”

Voices continued to shout over the chaos, but Gwyn drowned it all out. A figure with platinum hair accented by an orange streak dropped out of the sky and landed with a heavy thud into the ground. Two rips of air opened to either side of the newcomer. Gwyn grinned a toothy smile. If anyone had seen her in that moment, they wouldn’t have recognized her. The joy and relief she felt was more than she had ever experienced in her life. It even eclipsed the day that old drunk had given her the Master-classed tomahawks.

Thea was back.

***

Gavin cursed and threw his weight against a tent pole. The tenuous pillar resisted his rage for all of one heartbeat before it bent and creaked under his augmented might.

“How did that wench survive?! And where in the hells is that debaucherous fool, James? Someone? Anyone?!” Gavin yelled at his team, as well as those that had returned from James’ paid-off squads. They all flinched with eyes fixed on the ground, the cowards. Gavin hated all of them. He considered whether his father’s name and reputation would be enough to cover up murdering these idiots, but decided to show restraint…Barely.

Gavin tore out the pole from where it stood at an awkward angle and thrust it into the enchanted forge. The competing runes sparked and hissed, but he paid it no mind as he shoved one last time. Stone and brick caved to his anger and soon the pole pierced the back side of the forge.

“We…We haven’t seen him since the cliffs,” one of the bolder sycophants chimed in. Gavin whirled and backhanded the boy. A tooth flew through the air from his strike, and Gavin grinned inwardly at his own power.

These fools knew nothing of true strength. He would show them. He would build his throne out of their bones if he had to.

“And whose fault is that, huh? Weren’t you all paid handsomely to make sure he got out alive?” Gavin demanded of the gathered cowards. None of them were brave enough to answer. The human he had just hit whimpered untended to on the ground. “And yet here you all are, and yet he’s out there, likely going to fail his first damned Hunt because of all of you.”

He cursed again and left the battered tent. People were gathered by the entrance to the Wilds and as the lordling watched, projectiles were thrown into the mist. He spat on the ground in frustration and rushed ahead, fearing these idiots had just fired on their prince by mistake. When he arrived, however, what he saw was far, far, worse. The rat had returned. Gavin wanted her bones more than anyone’s. He would make sure she died a slow, painful, death after he ripped off every single one of her fingers. But the Duke’s second son didn’t move. No, the rat had some new friends, and they looked ready to kill.

“Hi, everyone,” Thea said with a smirk. The two Zengos on either side of her huffed one last time before they reentered their portals. “What was all the flashy lights and pointy objects sent my way for?” She asked with a cheeky grin. She stood from the small crater she had made like it was nothing. Gavin gritted his teeth in contempt at the display. How dare she act so high and mighty when he knew what she really was. She was nothing. She was dirt. She was—

“Hey! There’s someone else!” Someone exclaimed from the front of the defensive line. A lone figure emerged from the dwindling mist, one hand held against a wound in his shoulder. Gavin bit down on his lip in frustration and disappointment when he recognized the brown curly locks and cheap boots.

“Silence!” Felwirth declared as people murmured in anticipation for this final arrival. “Cadet Dunclad, explain yourself! Are there any more with you?” The crowd quieted as they awaited his answer. Thea looked ready to murder her old best friend when he spoke next. Charles, the betrayer of their own prince, addressed his enraptured audience. He held a mangled sword that came from the James’ own treasury aloft and pointed it at that accursed tiefling.

“I am alone, Headmaster. And I bring grave news!” The crowd held their breath, and Gavin couldn’t help but join them as they all waited for what he would say next. “Our prince of Valoria has been slain! And it was not in honorable combat against a monster. He was murdered! By Azuris, the honorless Wraith in our midst!”

“ARREST HIM! AND HIS TEAM!” Redmoor declared and several staffers surrounded the horned man. Gavin cursed. His father was going to kill him for this. To his left, he heard Thea mutter to herself.

“Damn it, Charlie. What have you done?”

Above them, a dark rumble of thunder echoed. Gavin looked up and saw a great and terrible storm on the rise. The sun was blotted out before it could descend past the horizon as a dozen warriors detained the tiefling, Thea, Elio, and Gwynneth. A couple of them resisted, but it was useless. Lightning illuminated the ground around them all, and for the first time in his life, Gavin felt like this tempestuous surge was angry.

END BOOK 1