Volume 3 - Chapter 22 – Silent Hunters

The group had stopped for the night, settling among the crumbling remains of an ancient world. Faded stone arches and rusted fragments of old machines surrounded them, their once-purposeful designs now nothing more than skeletal shadows of a forgotten age. The campfire crackled at the center of the ruin, its orange glow throwing long, trembling shadows across the broken masonry. The smell of smoke and cooked meat mingled with the faint metallic tang that always lingered near relics of the old world.

Ash sat cross-legged beside the fire, his cloak draped loosely around him as he studied a folded map the guild had given them. The parchment was stained and brittle, the ink faded, but it was enough to trace their route. Karna leaned against a nearby slab of stone, chewing on her rations as she watched the firelight dance over his face.

“So how far are we until we reach abomination territory?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes alert, reflecting the flickering light.

Ash glanced up briefly before lowering his finger to the map. “About a day. Maybe a bit more,” he replied. “This wagon’s slower than I’d like with all the supplies they loaded onto it.” His voice carried a quiet irritation, though his focus never left the parchment.

A faint rustle of movement drew their attention. Xanathis, sitting near the edge of the firelight, paused mid-bite on a strip of dried meat. Her sharp, pointed ears twitched slightly, catching a sound in the distance as her gaze turned toward the darkness behind them. Her half-breed blood allowed her to see far beyond human sight, even through the gloom of night. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the ridge of collapsed stone where the wilderness met shadow.

Ash lifted his head. “Something wrong?”

Xanathis didn’t answer immediately. Her grin returned slowly, calm and dangerous. “No,” she said at last, turning back toward the fire. “Just a persistent pest.” She bit off another piece of meat and chewed with deliberate ease.

Ash studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll take first watch after dinner. You two should get some rest.”

The conversation faded into the quiet hum of the fire and the low whisper of wind brushing through the hollow ruin. The stars above shone through the open gaps of the shattered ceiling, pale light spilling between drifting clouds.

Farther back, nearly swallowed by shadow, another presence lingered.

Kris stumbled to a stop behind a tilted pillar, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Sweat clung to her brow, and each inhale came ragged and sharp. “Finally… caught up,” she whispered to herself between gasps. “I’m glad their wagon was slow.” Her voice trembled with exhaustion, but relief softened her expression.

She eased herself down against the cold stone, pulling a weather-worn cloak tightly around her. The cloak—stitched from the skin of a rare mutant—shifted and shimmered subtly, blending into the ruins around her like mist. It was a relic of her father’s, one that rendered her nearly invisible in dim light.

“I’ll just… keep my distance,” she murmured drowsily. “Don’t wanna bother them right now.” Her eyelids grew heavy, the night sounds of insects and fire crackle drifting into a lullaby. Wrapped in her father’s cloak, she finally let sleep take her, the faint shimmer of the material fading into the shadows until she vanished completely from sight.

The night stone had finally shifted, and the soft blue light of the core’s morning glow began to spill over the horizon. The ruins bathed in that eerie radiance, half-shadowed, half-awake. The fire had long since died down, leaving only faint trails of smoke curling upward from the embers.

Ash stirred beneath his blanket, blinking as the first chill of dawn brushed against his skin. His rest was abruptly broken when he opened his eyes to find a pair of bright, vivid blue ones staring directly into his. The world sharpened instantly—Xanathis’s face was only inches away, her long hair hanging loosely to one side, her lips curved in that ever-mischievous grin.

“Good morning, handsome,” she said softly, her voice a teasing whisper carried by the morning air. She was close enough that her breath, warm and faintly sweet with the scent of dried meat, touched his cheek. “It’s time to get moving. The night stone just passed.”

Ash exhaled through his nose, trying to wake himself as she drew back. “You have a strange way of waking people up.”

Xanathis laughed lightly, straightening and stretching her arms above her head as the blue light shimmered across her armor. “It worked, didn’t it?” she replied, tossing him a smirk before walking off to rouse Karna next.

The group quickly broke down camp, stamping out the embers and packing the supplies back onto the wagon. The ruins faded behind them as they guided the vehicle out onto the open plains. The air smelled of dew and cold stone, carrying faint traces of dust from the broken machines scattered across the landscape. Shards of ancient metal and crumbling stone jutted up from the ground like bones of the earth, remnants of forgotten civilizations now half-buried beneath the grass.

By midday, the sky had already begun to darken again as the second night stone drifted past overhead, casting its temporary shadow across the plains. The wagon wheels creaked softly as the team pressed onward, the rhythmic clatter echoing in the emptiness.

Xanathis’s ears twitched suddenly. Her hand instinctively went to her weapon as she sniffed the air. “There’s something going on ahead,” she said, narrowing her eyes toward the distance. “And it smells… really rancid.”

Ash slowed the wagon, his expression hardening as he peered down the road where the terrain dipped into the hollow remains of another ruin. The wind shifted, carrying with it a foul, decayed odor that stung the nose—a sign that whatever awaited them ahead was not human.

The group parked the wagon and quietly dismounted, keeping their voices low as they crept through the ruins. The smell grew stronger with each step—thick, rotting, almost oily in the throat. They slipped between shattered walls and twisted remnants of metal until they came upon a clearing surrounded by fragments of ancient machinery. There, behind a half-collapsed column, they crouched low.

Two massive abominations stood in the open, their bodies grotesque amalgamations of flesh and twisted sinew. Their skin glistened like wet tar, veins pulsing with a sickly yellow light beneath the surface. Between them lay a cloaked human figure, collapsed on the ground, unmoving.

Karna’s eyes widened. Without hesitation, she rose from cover, every instinct screaming to save the fallen person. “Someone’s alive!” she hissed under her breath, before sprinting forward.

Xanathis groaned softly and rolled her eyes, brushing a lock of silver hair from her face. “Well, there she goes,” she muttered. “We’d better go help.”

Karna’s boots slammed into the ground as she closed the distance, her expression set with fierce determination. The nearest abomination turned, a low, guttural roar shaking the air. It lifted a massive hand the size of a boulder and brought it down toward her like a hammer.

Karna didn’t flinch. She stomped the ground, channeling power through her legs as the earth split open beneath her foot. A jagged spike of stone erupted upward in front of her, piercing through the descending hand. A spray of foul, blackish blood exploded from the wound, hissing where it hit the soil. The abomination howled, the corrupted veins in its arm pulsing violently.

It swung its other hand in a wide, sweeping arc, claws glinting in the dim light.

Karna leapt backward just as the blow struck, the force of the impact shattering the earthen spike and scattering debris in every direction. The shockwave rattled her boots as fragments of stone peppered the ground around her.

Her hands clenched as she refocused her energy. Wind began to swirl around her palms, condensing into two shimmering spheres that hissed and pulsed like miniature storms. The air crackled as she shouted the name of her spell.

“Exploding Typhoon!”

She dashed forward, her movements sharp and fluid. The abomination swung again, but she ducked low beneath its arm, closing the distance in a blur of motion. She thrust her left hand forward, slamming the orb of spinning wind directly into its knee.

The explosion ripped through the limb with a deafening roar. Bone, flesh, and thick black gore burst outward in a violent spiral. The creature’s leg disintegrated, and it toppled forward, crashing toward her.

Before it could hit the ground, Karna cocked her right arm back, wind howling around her fist as she lunged. She drove her palm into the abomination’s chest, the second sphere detonating with cataclysmic force.

The explosion tore through the monster’s torso, shredding muscle and bone alike. A massive hole burst through its chest cavity as the shockwave dismembered both arms and sent its head spinning through the air. The abomination’s remains crashed into the dirt, twitching briefly before going still.

When the storm of dust and blood settled, Karna stood in the center of the carnage—her boots planted in the steaming hole she had carved through its chest. Her armor was splattered in rancid blood, dripping down her arms in sluggish rivulets. She took a slow breath, steadying herself, and then turned sharply toward the second abomination.

Ash was already moving.

As Karna engaged with the first creature, he turned toward the second and gripped his polearm tightly, the weapon gleaming faintly under the shifting light. “Alright,” he muttered to himself, lowering his stance. “Let’s test out that magic.”

He charged forward, boots striking against the cracked earth. Concentrating, he called out the name of the spell he had practiced endlessly on the road.

“Blessing of Darkness!”

A surge of power rushed through his body—dark energy threading through his limbs, amplifying his strength and reflexes. The air around him seemed to grow denser as his movements quickened.

Then he called again, voice like a flint strike.

“Light Edge!”

The blade of his polearm flared with a pure, radiant aura, its edge limned in white brilliance that hummed with contained force. He moved swiftly, intercepting the second abomination as it began to lurch toward Karna. The creature threw a punch, its massive fist cutting through the air with enough force to crush stone.

Ash met the blow head-on, bringing up the shaft of his polearm. The impact sent a tremor through his arms, but he held firm, sliding one foot back across the dirt. The power from the Blessing of Darkness allowed him to withstand the blow.

With a spin of his weapon, he retaliated. The polearm’s blade swept through the air in a clean arc, slicing through the abomination’s retreating hand. Four of its thick, clawed fingers were severed cleanly, splattering the ground with dark, viscous blood. The creature howled, reeling back.

It staggered, then reached down with its remaining hand, grabbing a chunk of ancient machinery from the ground—rusted metal and forgotten technology fused into a crude weapon. With a furious roar, it swung the massive debris down toward Ash.

He dashed right, the strike slamming into the ground beside him and sending dirt and dust erupting in all directions. The shockwave rolled through the ruins as Ash spun on his heel, slashing across the creature’s exposed wrist. Sparks and black blood flew together as his glowing weapon bit deep.

The abomination roared again, lashing out with the back of its arm. Ash jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow, the wind from the swing brushing across his cheek.

They circled each other for a tense moment before the abomination suddenly hurled the chunk of machinery it still held. Ash dropped low and rolled to the side, the heavy object crashing into a pile of stone behind him. He barely had time to recover before the abomination charged, its mangled hand swinging wildly.

Ash ducked again, rolling clear as the monster’s fist slammed into the ground where he’d been standing. The impact left a crater, dirt and pebbles raining down around him.

“Wow, that was close,” he muttered, straightening. His grip tightened on the polearm. With a sharp inhale, he pulled back and sprinted forward, leaping high into the air.

He drove the polearm straight down, the blade sinking deep into the abomination’s chest. The creature roared in pain, its massive hand swiping upward to grab him, but Ash planted a boot against the iron-hard plane of its abdomen and kicked off, tearing free into a backward arc as he released the weapon. He landed in a crouch several paces away, eyes locked on the polearm now buried to the haft.

Raising one arm, he extended his finger toward the polearm’s butt end and focused. Energy gathered at his fingertip, and he called out the spell.

“Light Beam!”

A brilliant column of white light erupted forward, slamming into the base of his polearm. The weapon was driven clean through the abomination’s body, bursting out its back in a spray of gore and blood, tumbling end over end before clattering against the stone several feet behind it. The abomination gave a choking groan and collapsed forward, crashing into the dirt.

Ash exhaled and strode past the corpse, retrieving his blood-soaked weapon from where it had come to rest behind the body. He shook it once, scattering bits of gore and black ichor from the blade.

Karna approached, brushing blood off her arm. “I thought they’d be a bit stronger,” she remarked, glancing at the mangled corpses. “The one we saw awhile back seemed really intimidating.”

Ash nodded, resting his polearm across his shoulders. “These were just young abominations,” he explained. “It’s the older ones that are truly dangerous—faster, stronger, far more durable. And if you see ones with glowing shards in their skin…” His expression darkened. “Those are the worst. Highly resistant to core shards and most forms of magic.”

Xanathis joined them, covering her nose with a grimace. “Then let’s check on that collapsed person and get moving. This stench is irritating my nose.”

Ash gave a brief nod. Together, they turned toward the cloaked figure lying motionless amid the rubble, the stench of blood and decay thick in the air as they approached.

All three approached the cloaked figure lying motionless on the ground. The rotten stench grew stronger with each step, a nauseating mix of decay and chemical residue that clung to the air like a curse. Even the wind seemed reluctant to move through this part of the ruins, carrying only the faint buzz of insects drawn to the blood-soaked earth. As they approached and more of the ruins came into view, they noticed numerous dead and rotting Corpse Eaters strewn among the rubble.

Karna knelt down first, her expression tense as she reached out. “Hey… can you hear me?” she asked, giving the figure’s shoulder a gentle shake. No response—just the lifeless sway of the body beneath the cloak.

Xanathis wrinkled her nose, one hand still covering it as her ears twitched sharply. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she muttered, her voice muffled. Her eyes darted across the ruins, scanning the shadows between the collapsed structures. “The smell’s too strong. Something’s off.”

Ash’s gaze hardened as he stepped closer, his hand drifting toward his weapon out of instinct. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his tone low and wary. “Something’s not right here.” as he glanced over the scattered, decaying Corpse Eaters littering the area

Before he could say more, Xanathis’s ears flicked again—catching a faint mechanical click beneath the body’s weight. Her pupils narrowed instantly.

“Wait—no! Don’t!” she shouted.

But it was too late.

Karna was already mid-motion, rolling the cloaked figure over to check for signs of life when a sudden metallic click echoed through the ruins—followed by a violent BOOM! that tore through the air.

A pulse of purple energy exploded outward, engulfing the group in a choking haze. The smoke reeked of acrid, poisonous fumes, the kind that burned the lungs with every breath. The world became a blur of color and sound—Ash heard Xanathis shout something, but it was already distant, warped by the muffling fog.

Karna reacted on instinct, slamming her hand to the ground and unleashing a burst of wind magic that scattered the purple haze in every direction. The gust howled through the ruins, sending the debris and smoke swirling away. But the damage was done—their vision wavered, colors bending and fading at the edges. Karna stumbled, clutching her head as the world tilted. Xanathis tried to steady herself but fell to one knee, her breathing ragged.

Ash’s polearm slipped from his grasp, clattering against the stone as his strength gave out. “Damn it…” he muttered before darkness consumed his sight.

The ruins grew still.

A few minutes later, figures emerged from the shadows—six in total, moving with quiet precision. Their faces were hidden behind dark masks fitted with respirators, their eyes glinting faintly beneath the lenses. One of them laughed, voice muffled but dripping with smug satisfaction.

“Hah! Works every time.”

“Quiet,” came a calm, commanding voice from behind them—a woman’s voice, smooth yet cold beneath the mask. “Get to work and bind them. They can use magic, so make sure the restraints are secure. We’ll put them in mana cages before they wake.”

The masked figures moved quickly, producing metal cuffs. Within moments, Ash, Karna, and Xanathis were bound hand and foot, their weapons stripped away and tossed aside.

The leader turned to one of the others. “You. Bring the wagon—and search it for our payment.”

One of the masked men saluted sharply. “On it.”

Minutes passed before the faint hum of the control sphere signaled the wagon’s approach. The masked figure guiding it brought it to a stop beside the unconscious captives and lifted a heavy sack from the seat. With a grunt, he tossed it toward the leader — the bag landed in her hands with a dull clink of shards inside.

The leader caught it easily and gave the sack a small shake, the faint glimmer of light flickering through the fabric. “Good,” she said, her tone calm and firm beneath the mask. “Then let’s move. We’ll disperse the shards when we’re back at base.”

Two of the masked figures nodded and began lifting the unconscious bodies of Ash, Karna, and Xanathis into the wagon’s rear compartment. Another gathered their confiscated gear, stacking weapons and supplies neatly to one side. The faint metallic hum of the control sphere pulsed again as its glow brightened, illuminating the masked group in shifting light.

“Everything’s secured,” one of them reported.

“Good,” the leader replied. “Let’s leave I want to get to the base before night.”

The group climbed aboard, and the leader took position beside the driver. The wagon’s sphere thrummed, pushing the vehicle forward until it rolled smoothly through the ruins. The masked figures followed alongside, fading into the mist that clung to the ancient structures.

Moments later, soft footsteps disturbed the silence. From the far edge of the ruins, Kris emerged from the shadows, her cloaking shimmer fading as she crouched behind a fractured pillar. Her wide eyes tracked the wagon as it disappeared into the fog. She could still hear the low hum of the control sphere fading in the distance.

"What the hell…" she whispered, gripping the edge of her father’s cloak. "Who were those people?" Her pulse quickened as she noticed the strange masks and the way they handled Ash and the others with trained precision.

Drawing the cloak tighter around herself, she took a slow, steady breath. "Guess I’m not sleeping tonight." Her voice was low, determined. As the wagon vanished into the distance, she followed, her figure fading from sight once more as the shimmer of her cloak blended her into the surroundings.

The ruins fell silent again—save for the faint echo of her footsteps trailing after the kidnappers, a lone shadow hunting the hunters.