The two amateurs were panting. Ruford heaved out the sword and slumped to the ground. Sweat drenched his entire body. On the other hand, his comrade took a step back and steadied himself. He nocked another another arrow to his bow and aimed at a wolf trapped by wrinkling roots.",
But before he could release, a swift bolt drilled into the poor wolf's skull, rendering it dead. The last of the wolves were killed.
The bearded leader hauled the spear out of the dead alpha's body and whipped it hard, clearing the weapon of any blood. He maximised his senses. Every single one of the wolves were lifeless and there were no more underlying dangers around. He fixed his eyes on the two amateurs who were sitting tired, beside the wolf corpses on the ground before turning to the newest members.
The duo were standing on the same spot, unfazed by the bloodshed or the cold. These two- they were not normal.
"Next time, you two will do the fighting." He gave them one last glance before hopping on his yak.
The rest followed and boarded their own steads as well.
Ruford turned to his comrade. "See, Simon? I decapacitated a living Rezel wolf." He pointed at the headless corpse.
"I killed one as well." The one called Simon pointed at his own victim.
"We are leaving. There's a safe spot one hour from here. We will camp for the night." The leader looked up and said. The moon was barely visible from the snowfall.
They continued on their journey. An hour later, the caravan halted.
There was a tall hollow mountain. If one would look down from a flying beast, it would look like a C.
"Hollowrift mountain." The leader muttered and went through the opening 'into' the mountain. The rest followed.
Unlike the environment behind, the 'interior' of the mountains was well lit through torches and lamps. There were dozens of pavilions set on the hard ground. There was little snow here. The fire circlers and circles did their jobs well.
An old man came forward. "Dorian. I see you are already out on another mission. What is it this time?"
"A winter python." The bearded leader jumped off the yak. A young man came forward and held the reigns before taking it to a shed. The others dismounted. They led the beasts to the shed by themselves- Adrian and Irene included.
The old man frowned. "Another pair of newbies?"
"Yes."
The old man patted him on the shoulder. "You are the one with the best track records when it comes to training newbies. Moreover, you don't hate it. But you should take a break. It's one thing to play with death, but it's a completely different thing to watch youths play with it."
Dorian, the leader sighed and shook his head. "Someone have to show them the way. As you said, I am the best at this. Hence, I am responsible." A smile formed on his face for the first time. It was not forced in anyway.
The old man sighed, but a warm smile followed. He tightened the grip on Dorian's shoulder. "I thank you on behalf of every hunters in Edenshield then. Anyways, how's the newbies doing?"
"The earlier two- Ruford and Simon still have a long way to go. However, they are not the little boys who pissed at the sight of a grimgor anymore."
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"Can you blame them though?" The old man laughed. "Even grown men fail to sleep the night they first witnessed a grimgor. And these two poor fellas faced one on their first mission. And the newer ones? They seem to be... what should I say... runaways."
"They are. But all I can say is..." The leader turned to the tent where the newbies just entered. "They are 'unusual'."
Inside the tent, a fire magic circle was drawn on the wall. There was a wide gulf between the temperature here and the outside. It almost felt like a bright year inside.
Everyone removed their coats, and other warm coverings and hooked them on the walls, everyone except two.
"Just as I thought." Ruford unarmed himself and lied on one of the futons. "You two are runaways, aren't you?"
Adrian and Irene sat on the same mattress.
"Ruford, behave!" Simon said before turning to them with a wry smile. "Forgive him. He is ignorant of the rules."
"Tsk."
"You two are not bad I must say." A lady who looked as if she were in her late twenties said. She was one of the veteran archers. "You remained unfazed in front of the werewolves. And I heard you scored perfect in the test."
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"The score in the test amounts to nothing." The other archer said. He was middle aged and had a scar on his neck. "Lead said they will be the ones who will engage next time. And next time might be the time we face the white snake." He gave the duo a look.
"Relax." The last remaining veteran said. He was the youngest amongst the trio, looking twenty five. "Mind telling me which house is chasing you? I might be of help."
"You can trust Bron." The lady said. "He is the second son of a Count house. He has helped many runaways before. You two are still youths. You could not have done something outrageous, right?"
"You can't help me." Adrian finally spoke, his voice missing the usual charm. "Nobody in this nation can."
"Is that so?" Bron gave Irene a look. From just her mouth and chin, one could infer how beautiful she was. "I think I understand." He turned back to Adrian and sighed. "But if you really want to live your life running, I would suggest you train well and become great hunters. I must tell you..." He frowned. "Stubborn nobles are more dangerous than cornered beasts."
"Alright, alright. Enough with the depressing stuff." The woman said. "Go to sleep early. We have to resume early in the dawn."
Everyone went to their designated mattresses.
Adrian and Irene laid on the same one, cuddling each other.
"Tsk." The two amateurs and the middle aged man clicked their tongues in chorus.
As for Bron, he turned to the lady and smiled. "Want to join me, big sis?"
"Are you sure?" She giggled. "I might accidentally knee your balls."
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