Hunter’s Blade

C9 – Sharp

Master Frederick led the way, and Shire respectfully made room for him.

“Are you alright?” Frederick cast a quick glance at Shire. His black attire remained unstained by blood, and he maintained his upright posture despite the somber and dark sky. Frederick’s expression was serious, which made it challenging for Shire to relax.

Shire nodded. He noticed Waren dragging the devil’s corpse behind him, with Geffany walking alongside. Everyone had returned unharmed, except for Etienne, who was missing.

“Where’s my master?” Shire asked.

“I’m not sure.” A flicker of gloom passed through Frederick’s eyes. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing,” Shire replied, feeling an intense unease within his heart. “Where might Mr. Etienne have gone?”

“I couldn’t care less about that old man,” Frederick remarked with disgust. “Your master has long been renowned and possesses unrivaled abilities. Who could possibly control him? He can go wherever he pleases. He joined this mission out of respect for me. How should I know where he’ll go?”

His tone carried anger, leaving Shire unaware of the deep-seated grudge between Master Frederick and Etienne.

“My dear, there’s no need to frighten him,” Geffany consoled.

“Your master didn’t even partake in the battle,” Waren sneered. “No one should be blamed. He either ran away or perished along the way here. It serves him right for not heeding our advice and joining us.”

Anger surged in Shire’s heart upon hearing those words. He tightly clenched his fists, unable to tolerate anyone defaming Etienne in such a manner. The old hunter had always shown great care and concern for Shire, but Waren showed no intention of holding back. The expression on Waren’s face grew increasingly disdainful, provoking Shire as if he sought to ignite his anger.

“Master Etienne has journeyed across Luoman,” Geffany reassured Shire with an encouraging gaze. “He has weathered countless storms throughout his life. Even if he couldn’t rendezvous with us due to unforeseen circumstances, he would still have found a way to safely leave the forest.”

“Don’t worry,” Waren interjected, “Etienne is no more. Let me be your master, young Shire.”

“Once this mission is completed, I will become an official hunter,” Shire declared, fixing his gaze upon Waren. “I don’t need you.”

“You dare to reject me? Then return to your countryside and be nothing more than a dim-witted farmer,” Waren jeered.

Shire felt a sense of unease upon hearing those words. He aspired to become an exceptional hunter. He shifted his gaze past Waren and caught sight of the devil’s corpse.

It was a horrifying Devil God with a human-like appearance. Its body was charred black, as if an internal flame consumed it. Its outer shell was rugged, resembling both scales and insect exoskeletons, giving it an armored appearance. It possessed a long, scaly tail with black and red razor-sharp blades at its tip. The most dreadful feature was its goat-like head—roughly triangular with a hazy countenance. Its eyes appeared as hollow depressions, discouraging direct eye contact. Several irregular horns protruded from its head, sharp and menacing.

What struck Shire the most was the devil’s chest. A tremendous wound exposed twisted flesh and a bloody structure beneath its shattered outer shell. The insides resembled decaying, blackened cotton—damp and sticky.

Shire had heard that the devil’s outer shell was composed of Devil Substance, a solidified soul. Devils fed on souls, utilizing them as shells and fuel. They thirsted to slaughter all living beings, extracting their souls.

“…Is this the demon?” Shire fixated his gaze on the shell, which remained remarkably rigid. The hunters had successfully banished the malevolent soul that controlled it.

“Indeed,” Frederick affirmed, satisfied. “The Blade Devil, a high-ranking Devil God from the depths of hell. It is formidable, but we are even stronger.”

“Drag it back to the camp. I’m exhausted.” Waren forcefully handed the rope to Shire and pushed him with great force. Waren’s hands felt as icy and hard as a rock.

Shire despised this treatment and felt anger welling up within him. However, he had no choice. As a new hunter without Etienne’s presence, he held no authority. Thus, he tightly grasped the rope and began dragging the devil’s corpse. To his surprise, the weight was lighter than anticipated. The blade devil was significantly lighter than a human of the same size. It almost felt as if Shire was dragging a goat’s carcass.

He dragged the devil’s body to the vicinity of Dew Camp Stone and released the rope from his hand.

“It’s freezing. Hurry up and start a fire. No time to waste,” Waren continued to command Shire.

Frederick shook his head upon witnessing Shire’s troubled expression.

“If you lack the determination to work hard, how can you become a competent hunter? You seem to be just like your master, obsessed with indulgence day in and day out,” Frederick scolded.

For hunters, there was only one criterion: unwavering willpower. Shire recalled Etienne’s teachings and silently persevered. He navigated through the forest, gathering enough tree branches and piling them in the open space in front of Dew Camp Stone. With the flickering afterglow of the setting sun, he ignited a fire, and a bonfire illuminated the surroundings.

In Twilight Forest, the sunset seemed to hasten compared to other places. Before Shire could witness the complete sunset, darkness had already enveloped the surroundings. The vast forest appeared boundless in the night. If one were to venture into the forest during the night, the overwhelming fear could easily drive them to madness.

“How was the Blade Demon defeated?” Shire stood beside the fire, observing Frederick as he heated a piece of dried meat over the flames.

“For seasoned hunters,” Frederick proudly explained, “no matter how powerful a devil may be, it can still be vanquished. Their shells are formed from Devil Substance, which represents a fallen soul. It is tougher and more flexible than any metal, making it impervious to ordinary weapons. This would deter most people. However, hunters possess a method, Shire. Hunters confront devils of any form or strength. The answer lies in the Piercing Spell. I employed the Piercing Spell to penetrate through the devil’s body.”

Shire couldn’t help but direct his gaze to the gaping wound on the devil’s chest. It allowed him to vividly imagine the potency of the spell.

“It’s really powerful…” Shire murmured.

“Do you want to learn it?” Frederick looked at Shire.

“Yes! Of course I do!” Shire was very happy.

“I am a master of the Holy Church. I have the responsibility for educating the younger generation.” Frederick took a bite of the jerky. His eyes paused on the flame for a while, as if he was thinking of something. Then he looked up and said, “But at the same time, there is a price.”

“What do I want to do?” Shire asked.

“Tell me the charm of the Yafen Flame.” Frederick’s tone was firm.

Shire’s heart shook.

“You don’t want to?” Frederick observed Shire’s expression and felt disappointed. “Listen, I’ll offer the most potent piercing spell in exchange. It’s absolutely worthwhile.”

If it was a fair trade, why didn’t he make the exchange with Master Etienne?

“No… Never mind,” Shire replied, avoiding eye contact with an enraged Master Frederick.

“Are you being serious?” Frederick’s tone turned threatening.

“Frederick,” Geffany’s voice trembled, “What are you doing?”

“Oh, so now you’re doubting me?” Frederick grew increasingly irritated. “I just vanquished the Blade Devil. Everyone will remember this day and my accomplishments. Soon, I’ll be Pan Luo Man’s most renowned Devil Hunter.”

“Shire,” Geffany rose and declared, “I’ll go outside and search for your master.”

“Geffany?” Frederick was slightly speechless. “You…”

“The forest is too dark. Even Master Etienne could be in danger. He hasn’t returned for so long; he might have encountered something. I must go and assist him,” Geffany explained, then hurried out. Shire knew she disliked getting involved in conflicts, especially among hunters.

Frederick’s expression became uncertain.

“If she gets attacked, it’ll be dreadful. The forest is filled with traps,” Waren remarked, watching Geffany vanish into the woods.

“Calm down,” Frederick muttered, disappointed, pressing his forehead.

Shire remained silent. He despised himself for lacking the authority to speak.

“You should learn from me,” Waren sat cross-legged, chin resting on his hands, staring directly at Shire. “You’re still young and malleable. Although your mind hasn’t reached a conclusion yet, that may change in the future.”

“I can handle my own affairs,” Shire stubbornly walked to the side and sat down, taking something from his backpack to eat.

Could Master Etienne truly be in danger in the forest? Shire couldn’t help but ponder. Yes, the forest held countless dangers. It was even more treacherous at night, filled with Giant Demons, night Owls, fey, and Dragons. However, Shire knew that Master Etienne was adept at hunting demons. He was a mere mortal. Shire didn’t believe that Etienne couldn’t overcome the challenges within the forest. Nonetheless, one thing troubled Shire: despite Etienne’s exceptional abilities, he always refused to take control of the silver key to the Holy Church and declined the role of leader among the hunters.

“Shire.” Frederick called out to him.

“Master Frederick.” Shire stood up.

“Just sit.” Frederick sighed. “Look, I lost my composure just now.”

Shire gazed at the Hunter Master with a mix of emotions. “Master Etienne never aspired to become the leader of the Holy Church. What conflict do you have with him?”

“Never considered it?” Frederick furrowed his brow. “That’s because you don’t understand him. Before his Soul Disease worsened, he had been fixated on the silver key. At that time, he was thirty years old. I was fifteen, and he traversed the entire country. Ronghua’s reputation was unmatched, like a shadow I could never catch up to. The most unfortunate thing in my life is encountering someone I can never surpass. It constantly makes me doubt myself. But due to his misuse of the incantation, his soul was damaged, so the silver key was passed on to me.”

“I heard you completed lots of successful hunts.”

“Every previous hunt was the same as this one, he was involved,” Frederick’s voice held a tinge of irritation. “You witnessed it! Etienne didn’t take part in the specific battle to slay the Blade Devil. It was me who employed the piercing spell to vanquish the devil. But when we return… People will still whisper behind our backs, ha! Etienne has triumphed over yet another devil!”

“…” Shire sighed.

“Alright, Shire. Whether we find your master or not, we will return to the Holy Church tomorrow. Our willpower is strong enough to withstand the fear it brings, but ordinary mortals are easily frightened. Therefore, we must safely transport the devil’s corpse, keeping it secure with the mask and chains. Hopefully, no one will disturb us on our journey,” muttered Frederick.

To maintain watch, they took turns tending to the fire.

Shire was responsible for the first few hours. He noticed that Waren showed no signs of sleep. Waren sat nearby, opening and closing his mouth without uttering a sound. Frederick rested on a fur roll, succumbing to drowsiness.

In the absence of Master Etienne, Shire felt a sense of unease. Should they proceed with their journey without Master Etienne? He stared intently at the flame, imagining a future of solitary travel. Simultaneously, he hoped for Geffany to reunite with Etienne swiftly, enabling them to return to the camp together.

Without Etienne’s guidance, Shire felt a lack of direction ahead. Simultaneously, he worried about becoming overly reliant on the old hunter’s counsel, unable to determine his own path in life.

He gazed at the flame, his eyes growing wearier. He turned his head and spotted a magic potion in his bag. It was obtained from the deceased Denver, who had boasted that it granted the ability to see through women’s clothing. He would consume it when he encountered a beautiful woman.

Shire lacked the mood to indulge in such fantasies. Instead, he uncorked the potion and took a sip, hoping for clearer vision to watch over the night. As the liquid entered his throat, he tasted the flavor of aphrodisiac and daffodil-infused water, causing his mouth to warm.

“The witch’s potion truly works wonders,” Shire sighed. Shortly after, he felt his eyes growing more perceptive, transforming the night into a vivid, illuminated scene.

He looked around inquisitively, then turned his head to witness the devil’s corpse by the fire transforming into Dalton’s remains. The corpse had been gutted, and a black and red Fallen Blade protruded from its spine. Frederick appeared drowsy, his outer garments hinting at the presence of chainmail. In the place where Waren should have been seated, a demon with a long, black, scaled tail sat. It noticed Shire’s gaze, turned around, and smiled, its mouth dripping with blood. Its empty eye sockets and seven or eight irregular horns atop its head created a menacing appearance, their sharpness resembling blades.