Chapter 97 - The Blind-Side Hunter

The blood trail ran toward Harrowfen.

That was wrong.

Predators usually fled away from settlements.

Unless the settlement was not danger.

Or unless it was home.

Etzel followed at a controlled pace.

No sprint.

No blind chase.

Rusk noticed and said nothing.

That was somehow more insulting than praise.

The trail reached an irrigation culvert and stopped.

Sivenne crouched. “Inside?”

Rusk checked the water. No blood.

Tessa pointed upward.

A dark smear marked the concrete wall.

Saeva pulsed her light.

Something moved beneath the bridge.

Sivenne jumped.

Her hand caught a gray leg.

The creature dropped.

Maerin’s Claim caught the landing zone.

Etzel thrust.

The creature twisted away.

The false wolf appeared behind him.

His instincts screamed to turn.

He did not.

The real creature attacked from above.

Rusk’s impact round struck its chest.

It fell into the irrigation channel.

Water exploded.

The camouflage failed completely.

Etzel saw every line of its body.

Sivenne saw it too.

“Water.”

“Maybe.”

The creature launched out.

It targeted Etzel.

That helped.

It learned.

Claw.

Block.

Second claw.

Too fast.

A cut opened across his forearm.

Etzel answered with the spear butt.

Saeva pushed.

The creature hit concrete.

Stolen from NovelPhoenix, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Sivenne entered.

First punch blocked.

Second hit.

Third passed through a projection.

The real creature appeared at her blind side.

“Sivenne!”

Too late.

A black spike struck her ribs.

Armor stopped most.

Not all.

She dropped.

Tessa moved.

Sivenne raised one hand.

“Wait.”

She breathed.

“Bruise. Maybe cracked rib.”

Tessa assessed instead of grabbing the consequence.

That helped.

The creature attacked again.

Sivenne rolled.

Last Answer reacted.

She had already failed against that transition.

Now she possessed an answer to the repeated problem.

The false wolf appeared.

Sivenne moved opposite her first instinct.

The real creature materialized exactly where her elbow was already traveling.

Impact.

Bone cracked.

The creature screamed.

Sivenne spat blood.

“Got you.”

It fled.

Etzel did not immediately pursue.

“Tessa?”

“Rusk stable. Sivenne likely one cracked rib. No sign of internal bleeding.”

“I can fight,” Sivenne said.

“That wasn’t the question.”

Wet footprints led into the culvert.

Camouflage did not hide water displacement.

They advanced.

The drainage network opened beneath Harrowfen.

In the first chamber they found bones.

Not human.

Transformed animals.

Mostly low Rank.

A feeding ground.

Then Maerin found five Hunter identification tags.

Renn checked remotely.

“All belong to missing Hunters. Oldest disappearance: eighteen months.”

So the recent deaths were not the beginning.

Saeva hovered near a wall.

“Here.”

A shallow nest.

Inside lay a dead juvenile of the same species.

Burns.

Straight cuts.

Metal punctures.

Not predator wounds.

“I preferred mysteries when stabbing produced useful data,” he muttered.

Orsik glanced over. “Did it?”

“Emotionally.”

That earned exactly as much sympathy as expected.

Tessa whispered, “Taken?”

“Maybe.”

Rusk found a bolt embedded in concrete.

Stamped with the Harrowfen Hunters Cooperative mark.

Etzel’s jaw tightened.

Evidence.

Not verdict.

“Renn.”

“I see it. Local cooperative is being locked down.”

A human scream echoed ahead.

They ran.

The next chamber contained six metal cages.

Five empty.

One occupied.

A living juvenile trembled inside.

The adult creature stood over a local C-Rank Hunter.

Its black spike hovered beside his throat.

It had not killed him.

The man clutched a cage key.

“Kill it!” he shouted.

Etzel kept his spear raised.

“Why is the juvenile caged?”

“It’s a monster!”

“Not an answer.”

“We trap them. Cores. Research. Bounties.”

“Licensed?”

The hesitation answered.

Rusk raised his rifle toward the Hunter.

“Try again.”

“No.”

Illegal harvesting.

The adult had learned Hunters were danger because local Hunters had taught it.

That did not erase the dead.

It changed the problem.

Etzel lowered his spear.

Sivenne whispered his name.

“I know.”

The adult watched.

Its spike remained at the Hunter’s throat.

Etzel pointed at the cage.

“We open that.”

No response.

He pointed at the juvenile.

Then the tunnel leading north.

“Then you leave.”

The creature tilted its head.

The spike lowered slightly.

Maerin whispered, “It understands.”

Rusk retrieved the key.

Slowly.

Opened the cage.

The juvenile remained frozen until the adult made a low sound.

Then it crawled out.

Straight to the larger creature.

The adult touched its head.

Saeva dimmed her light.

Nobody spoke.

The adult backed toward the tunnel.

Etzel pointed north.

“Go.”

It moved.

Then stopped beside Sivenne.

She tensed.

A black spike formed.

Etzel raised his spear.

The spike touched Sivenne’s armor above the cracked rib.

She hissed.

Then blinked.

“Still cracked,” she said.

Tessa stared. “But?”

“Pain is lower.”

The spike did more than kill.

It altered sensation—or nerve response—or something close enough that they did not yet understand.

The adult left with the juvenile.

Nobody chased.

Small.

Real.

Then:

Etzel smiled.

The System had recognized resolution without a kill.

Renn’s voice came through.

“Cooperative leadership is detained. We found additional holding sites.”

The local Hunter groaned.

Rusk cuffed him.

Sivenne looked at Etzel.

“So we came to kill a Hunter-killing monster.”

“Yes.”

“And arrested Hunters.”

“Yes.”

“And the monster helped my rib.”

“Possibly.”

“This job is stupid.”

“Correct.”

On the way out, Etzel looked back at the empty cages.

The Rupture had created monsters.

It had also created people who saw anything strange and immediately asked what it was worth.

Sometimes the monster was the thing with claws.

Sometimes it held the key.

The answer arrived as a new mark on the map - one that had not existed when they entered.