The weight of emptiness had never felt so heavy and unnerving. In the last hour or so, Miriam and everyone else had spent time making sure their deliveries were sent to the right places so that they could assist down the line. Those areas were filled with life, even if it was life that regarded them with utmost caution.
When the convoy moved on to their hiding places, it was there that she realised they had only visited a small part of An Vrong. Beyond a certain point, there was nobody to greet or stare at them. No villagers, no animals, nothing. There were only bloodied ruins and the feeling that they were being watched.
This place was straddling between desperately surviving and becoming a ghost town. Miriam wondered if the other villages were better off, or in even more dire straits. Fortunately, the mercenaries helped ease the mood with their usual bantering. Shanties were sung, stories were told and cars revved up in games of show-off, right until they parked themselves into the factory lot.
There, the atmosphere really kicked in. Miriam stood surrounded by all manner of boxes, watching every tiny nook of this place. The villagers had cleared all machinery out long before they got here, seemingly in a great hurry. Bits and pieces were all that's left, leaving them three floors to use as they see fit. Though their sweeping of the place revealed nothing hazardous, she still felt like there was something they just weren’t finding.
It was probably for the best. Letting your guard down out here was leaving yourself in bad shape.
Before long, someone had arrived at the factory with great commotion. When she emerged to investigate, Miriam found that it was Dylus, back from his meeting with the village chief. Accompanying him was a cadre of villagers of differing ages, wary of their surroundings and of the people in front of them. Her captain and friend wore a small smile on his face. She knew it had gone well instantly, yet felt that there was more behind it.
Her suspicions were proven right when his voice rang throughout the factory.
“Alright, mercenaries! Saddle up, saddle up, I’ve got something new. Gather around at… that set of boxes!”
He pointed towards Miriam’s way. She shrugged and watched as her mercenaries approached her, wondering what was happening. Engli’s soldiers, having no standing orders at the moment, followed the captain from a distance. Dylus saw them, remembered what Engli had told him, and barked.
“As for the jarheads, your glorious commissar wants you guys back in town. You get a different slice of fun, yeah?”
There was collective groaning. Miriam chuckled. They would most likely be community workers for a day or two. Someone doubled down on the atmosphere, letting out a loud shout.
“Screw you all, ya bastards! Your teen hero’s gonna show you all his new playpen here, I tell ya’ll”
“Well, this kid’s their CO! Scram, get the fuck out of here, and don’t come back ‘till your hands are red!”
The Merah soldiers quickly marched themselves out of the factory. Their departure was more akin to a bunch of schoolkids running back to class than soldiers, but that was to be expected; they were as young as Dylus, with most of them of greenhorns in there. He waved them off before getting back to work, rounding up everyone with a loud whistle. The villagers following him were introduced with a single, unbroken, winded speech.
“Alright lads, meet these friendly folks right here real quick. Guy on the left is Jeku. The woman on the right, her name’s Fon. To her right some more, that’s Kantee, bookish fellow, and then to his right is Sakda, the guy with the big muscles and a giant quiver. Fon’s left has Badin with his singlet and Hassan- was it Hassan? Never mind, remind me after this. All of you, meet Lieutenant Miriam. Lieutenant Miriam, meet hunters. Mercenaries, meet hunters, and vice versa. All good?”
The speech alone took forty seconds to complete. Dylus put his hands on his hips and looked proud, despite flubbing up his words here and there. The villagers remained stone-faced, while the mercenaries exchanged looks with one another. He pushed on.
“Good, you all got the message. Don’t worry, you’ll have more time to bond later, we have important stuff to discuss. Someone get me the map of the region from the command jeep. Yep, the one with the stripes and roll cage. No, the one next to the other vehicle with the roll cage. Yeah, you got it.”
He approached Miriam, looking around as the sounds of something falling over made his eyes roll, “Where’s Bacla and Wally?”
“They’re off with Bacla’s squad in town. They took off as soon as they were done securing the place. Probably for booze, or women.”
“Damn it,” Dylus dug into his forehead, “I thought you all were supposed to keep them here. I need both of them now for this briefing.”
“I can get a runner, hope they’re not screwing around with those ladies blowing kisses from before,” Miriam replied. She almost left, paused her lips, then came back to Dylus, “wait, what briefing?”
“The one I’ll give for maybe a couple of minutes. Won’t be long,” he winked. That was how she immediately knew this would fumble one way or another. Instead of mulling over the change of plans, Miriam quickly assigned someone to find Bombacla and turned her attention to the villagers. She didn’t have to look at them for long to know that they were tired to all hell.
Their faces were craggy, caked in layers of dirts in odd places. Beneath that were heavy eyebags, signs that they had been up for the last few days. Accompanied by their shredded clothes, mangled armors and stilted movements, they looked more akin to revenants than actual people. It was a sorry state to be in, she mused. Hopefully, the Regalia would take better care of these people.
A rush of wind entered the factory through cracked gaps. One of the mercenaries handed Dylus the map he had requested, which he promptly laid out on the flattest box he could find. The map flailed in that very wind, making him annoyed after several attempts at keeping it still.
“Not in the mood for this,” said Dylus. The next few seconds were spent carrying out the strangest decision for the day; detaching his mechanical arm and using it as a paperweight. The mercenaries regarded it with some amusement, while the villagers found his impulsive action confusing. The sight of him with only one hand did not diminish his aura, however, as the briefing began with a foul statement.
“I’m not gonna wait for that dwarfish fool or his merry band of manwhores, let’s make that clear. While Commissar Engli’s detachment will be taking care of the village through reparations and community service, I’ve managed to get a lead on our raiders. Some kind of lead, not one with definitive directions but just this general idea of where to go next.”
“We’s a-listening, cap’n.”
He had no image of Sawat-Lon for the mercenaries. Instead, they made do with a quick sketch of his presumed mug that Dylus sketched in half a second. It was an ugly caricature, complete with filthy beard and thoroughly offensive features around his forehead. It lightened up the villagers, much to Miriam’s relief.
“Now I don’t have any pictures of the guy in charge of ‘em, but I got a name. Sawat-Lon, sorcerer and wannabe big bad of this entire region,” he backtracked a little, “Wannabe? Nah, sorry, Fon, he’s caused you way too much legitimate grief to be a wannabe. He’s a weapons-grade asshole with a penchant for murder, bullying and sick magical experimentation. Just the kind of person you guys like to maim and kill, yeah?”
The mercenaries hollered briefly, nodding excitedly. Dylus smiled and continued, “Unfortunately, Chief Muzan didn’t have much on his troops’ whereabouts. I’ll let Fon explain.”
The villager stepped right up, just as tall as Dylus and a lot more direct, “The attacks on our villages have left us disorganised and working by the day. We haven’t been able to find out where his men are, or if he’s still even in Port Tepansit as before.”
“Which, for everyone’s convenience,” Dylus raised his finger up in the air, “is the port that our employers have set their eyes on for their naval forces to stage from, cross Xah Tali or something, go figure.”
“That military naval base up North? Miss Yumiko’s in charge of that, right?”
“Correct,” Dylus said, not realising his dropped tone when Yumiko’s name came up, “we’ll be getting a report or two from her in the coming days, but I have faith that our comrades and her are doing just fine up there.”
Fon interrupted Dylus, seemingly surprised by Dylus’ suggestion that the Merah would attempt to cross open waters- open, until she spoke, “Your army seeks to cross Xah Tali? Your people play a dead man’s hand against a god.”
“Don’t tell that to me, Miss Fon. Bring it up with the commissar. I’ve heard stories about something big and nasty above the gulf. She either probably doesn’t give a damn like the rest of them, or thinks they can go head-to-head with it.”
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“Many people have tried, but Mazukkhala is the lord of the seas for a reason.”
“Whatever the case, that’s not our problem for now,” Dylus said. The statement alone about a ‘god’ had immediately alarmed the mercenaries here, feelings he quickly picked up on and defused. Best to keep them focused on Rengleb instead, “our main lead in this whole hunt will be a monster that’s been wreaking havoc throughout the whole region. The name’s Rengleb, and these folk here have been-”
The wind came back. His world went silent, hearing only a gentle whisper. The mercenaries, the villagers and Miriam faded into blurry figures as something in his head clicked and whirred. Like a machine that had been inadvertently activated, Dylus stopped talking and looked around in a trance. The lieutenant’s voice attempted to break through the trance, failing to do so as Dylus’ head made room for another.
The voice in his head was as sinister as before, but it was trying to tell him something. To look, it said, to feel. There was something wrong here, the wind told it so. To this end, Dylus found himself staring at an empty spot in-between two Merah trucks.
There was a trickle of light on top of that area, streaming downwards uninterrupted through several rotten holes in the roof. Dust fell in that same spot, whirling or otherwise descending normally. By all means, there really seemed to be nothing in that space. The tiny voice, however, kept insisting something was there.
Wrong. Something’s wrong. Look.
He kept staring at the spot for a few more seconds. Before he broke out of the trance, his mind swore that the falling dust shifted for just a quarter of a nanosecond. Once recovered, Dylus looked around. Everyone had been looking at him oddly, prompting a quick apology.
“Ah, sorry about that. Where was I? Oh right, these people here are her primary trackers.”
“The ones that are left, Slayer,” said Sakda, who quickly spoke a prayer for the deceased under his breath before continuing, “Wherever Rengleb strikes, Lon’s cabal shows up soon after to follow up on the chaos. The beast has been mutated and driven mad by Sawat-Lon’s constant abuse of thamorja, making it our duty to put down such a blighted tragedy.”
“In other words, we’re on monster hunting duty, mercenaries,” Dylus beamed. The rest of them started mumbling amongst each other. Miriam approached him with concern, taking him aside and trying to make their conversation private. He looked at her with strange eyes, “What’s up?”
“Dylus, what are you thinking? What happened just now?”
“I don’t know, honestly,” said the captain as he rubbed his jaw, “but about this whole thing? I thought it’d be good to help out these people. And that-”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Miriam said, trying to put her thoughts into words, “look, we’re here to look for Colonel Desjarnes’ quarries and only that, not dedicate our resources to fix someone else’s problem.”
“What?” He looked thoroughly confused at her rebuke, “We’re doing just that, aren’t we?”
“Not at all. I get that you want to go about making ourselves look good in front of the locals, but not like this. We should be joining up with Engli’s troops in the PR efforts and scouring the towns for clues. A hunt like this is way too risky and not in our payroll.”
“It is risky business, but it’s also the best way forward. Let Engli handle the people stuff while we do what we’re best at,” said Dylus, gesturing wildly, “if we stay on our path, we may get nothing out of it, or we may walk right into a giant trap from the raiders. We pull this off instead, we all win in the long-run.”
“Ten-Ten, I hate to ask this but are you sure you’re not letting your ego mess up your head again?” Miriam asked bluntly, “It's happened before, and I don’t want you to mess up with everyone’s lives at stake because of a pipe dream.”
Good grief, why this?
Dylus pinched his eyebrows until they were hurting. What hurt more than that was the fact that she wasn’t speaking with malice; Miriam knew exactly how he played the game of life. As much as his successes were notorious, there were just as many failures on his part. Rarely were they ever from outside interference too. It made him think back to the conversation with Muzan, Kwang, and of all the things he had seen today. That was when he made the decision that, for this time, he had thought things through.
“It’s not a pipe dream, Miriam, it’s what we came here for. Just… through another path, y’know? A different step in the same direction. We can’t leave them hanging once we’re gone. Who knows what will happen to them?”
“That’s why the Merah are here. They will take care of them down the line. What if we lose someone to that step, Ten-Ten?”
“That’s why I’m gonna move on with the briefing, I have something for that. Trust the skull, okay?”
She was visibly frustrated over his stubbornness, yet couldn’t help being charmed by a defusing smirk. Some places in her mind were more angrier that he did so, while the rest were willing to hear what he said. The rest of the mercenaries and the villagers were much the same, seeing as they were all staring at the two. Dylus coughed and pretended he didn’t have a complex talk in the first place.
“Alright, sorry for that, guys. Me and the lieutenant were having some healthy discussions, nothing out of the blue.”
The statement didn’t convince the others. He nervously chuckled and shook his head, convincing himself successfully of his ‘bluff’.
“Anyway, long story short, we’ll do this our usual way. What comes first?”
Now this galvanised them into responding without much effort. It was their eternal hunting mantra.
“The planning!”
“The second?”
“The gathering!”
“The third?”
“The preparation!”
“And the last?”
“The pursuit!” The factory echoed with the war cries of the mercenaries. Even though most of them had been caught off-guard by the change of pace, it was territory that they’ve walked on many times. The villagers found the display of camaraderie fascinating, some of them remembering the last time the Pursuit Specials had come to their lands. The Slayer’s charisma lacked in many places except riling up his fellow hunters for a good hunt. They watched him pass out the last few sets of instructions.
“As this is all working on the fly, we’ll need some time to formulate an effective hunting strategy for Rengleb. There will be a hunting expedition out in a bit by three of these guys, so I’ll be tagging along with them to get a feel of the area. First two with their hands up-”
Hands immediately sprung up from the group. Dylus tapped his feet quickly, whistling loudly, “Wow, didn’t even need to finish that. Alright, Benji and Gurha, you’re with me. The rest of you are staying here for inventory and to help the village. Lieutenants Miriam and Bombacla will manage you rowdy bunch, as well as assemble our big game guns,” he turned to Miriam, who was already looking around and mentally taking notes of their supplies, “we did bring a couple of heavy rifles, yes?”
“Thirty-five mills, three guns,” Miriam said, and then noted a peculiar aspect to those guns, “thought you’d remember bringing along your projects.”
“I keep track of them when I can. Just excited for now,” Dylus remarked, “in the meantime, I’ll pass the real bulk of this briefing to, uh, Kantee, was it?”
“That’s me, Slayer,” Kantee spoke up, making himself prominent from the villagers with his worn spectacles and lighter armour, carrying a backpack nearly the size of his chest and a loaded pistol on his chest. He pulled out a series of homemade stationeries and began filling up the map with his scribbles, “While your aerial chariots have done a good job of mapping out our homeland, they don’t show you what you need to know for this hunt and what we know of Lon’s movements. As someone who’s charted this region a couple dozen times, sometimes in my sleep, do pay attention to the markings and don’t be afraid to speak up if I go too fast. I do that too much. Kind of a born habit. Weird shit, I know.”
Dylus was surprised that all that dialogue went by incredibly fast. Kantee was still blathering technical jargon- many that he understood but had incredible pain processing whenever they came up- when he took back his arm and stepped away from the group, beckoned by Fon, Sakda and Jeku. The two mercenaries he had selected followed suit, as well as Miriam who was still holding on to her concern. It looked as if she wanted to say something when he spoke.
“Sorry for that long briefing. Thought to keep it short, but as long as the memo gets passed on.”
“Don’t sweat that, but I’m still worried about all of this.”
Dylus looked at the hunters ahead, then to Benji and Gurha. He gestured to them to go ahead, wanting to speak his mind with Miriam after having calmed down a little bit.
“Would you believe me if I said I felt the same?”
“Absolutely.”
The captain looked around, eyes darting wildly. Dylus took the chance and ran with his concerns, indirectly bringing up the trance he entered earlier.
“Something’s off with this place, sister.”
“Huh?” Miriam knew exactly what he was talking about, especially after his recent trance. The strange, unnerving feeling that had been running down her neck when they drove into the empty parts of An Vrong. She only said a bit more to get him to explain; “What’s on your mind?”
“Something’s been following us. I don’t know who or what it is, but it’s somewhere. A darkened nook, a sunny spot, it doesn't matter. It’s there, but I don’t know if my brain’s playing tricks on me.”
“It’s not,” said Miriam, “like eyes staring into your soul from behind, right?”
“Something like that. Listen, while I’m away with the hunters, I need you, Wally and Bombacla to keep to the plan, okay? If something’s really watching us, they need to think they’re ahead of us so that we can get the drop on them. An Vrong, this place, it’s already giving me the creeps. It’s giving the voice in here the creeps. Never good.”
“So we’re gonna pretend we don’t suspect shit while you’re away?”
“As best as you can,” Dylus sighed, “I don’t think I screwed up with the idea of hunting Rengleb. I think I screwed up speaking proudly about it. It’ll probably only get worse when we reach Liuth and Ozka.”
“I have my own ideas about that, but I’ll try my best to keep things under wraps.”
Dylus got closer to her, keeping his voice soft, “Keep our people safe so we can keep these people safe. Not a single lick of hurt on them as long as we’re here, understood?”
“Yes, captain Dylus.”
He smiled, “Should be an easy job for you anyway, the mom you are.”
“Oh, you have no fucking idea.”