Chapter 51: Isolde

Sigurd found the first sign of organized activity shortly before sunset.

He had continued northwest after separating from Kong Zhen, following the fading trail of the suspected Demonic Beast until the terrain began rising again.

The tracks eventually vanished among exposed stone, leaving him with little choice but to search for another sign, and he had spent the next hour moving along the lower slope of a ridge when he noticed three strips of pale cloth tied around separate trees.

They were too deliberate to be natural and too clean to have been there before the examination. One marked a narrow path toward water, another had been tied higher where it could be spotted from a distance, while the third pointed back toward the southeast.

Sigurd followed them, curious about who had bothered creating directions on the first day of an examination where everyone was supposed to be competing.

Ten minutes later, he spotted an applicant crouched on a thick branch above the trail. The boy carried a bow across his back and was watching the surrounding forest rather than resting.

He noticed Sigurd almost immediately, straightened, then relaxed after recognizing the black identification token hanging from Sigurd’s waist.

Raising one hand, the lookout called down, "If you’re looking for water, there’s a stream ahead. If you’re looking for somewhere to stay tonight, keep following the markers."

Sigurd stopped beneath the tree and asked, "Who put them up?"

The boy pointed farther into the forest and answered with obvious amusement, "Isolde Di Grandel. You’ll understand when you get there."

That was enough to make Sigurd curious.

He continued along the marked path and began noticing more evidence before he saw the camp itself. Broken branches had been cleared from the route. Small cuts on tree trunks indicated directions.

Two applicants carrying filled water containers passed him going the opposite way, while another pair returned with bundles of dry wood. None wandered aimlessly.

Everyone seemed to know exactly where they were going, and when the trees finally opened into a broad clearing beside a stream, Sigurd stopped.

Nearly thirty applicants occupied it.

Someone had chosen the location intelligently. Water ran along the eastern edge, while a rocky rise protected the western side and provided an elevated position overlooking the surrounding forest.

Makeshift shelters occupied the center.

Two controlled fire pits had been dug into bare earth, with strips of meat already roasting above one. Several applicants sharpened weapons near the rocks, while others cleaned butchered Ferocious Beasts farther downstream so blood wouldn’t contaminate their drinking water.

Two lookouts occupied elevated positions, another applicant was drawing something resembling a rough map onto cloth with charcoal, and a group of six stood near the northern edge of the clearing preparing to leave.

Standing in the middle of everything was Isolde Di Grandel.

She wasn’t shouting instructions or demanding attention. She simply listened as a girl carrying two short spears reported something, asked her a question and pointed toward the northern trail.

The girl nodded and gathered three others. Before they had even departed, another applicant approached Isolde carrying two examination markers and the rough location of another Ferocious Beast pack.

Sigurd’s mouth twitched.

What exactly had his cousin been doing since morning?

Isolde noticed him near the tree line and excused herself from the applicant beside her before walking over.

Her blue eyes eyes briefly examined the sword and pouch at his waist before she smiled and greeted him. "Sigurd. I wondered which one of us I’d encounter first."

Sigurd glanced behind her at the clearing before replying, "I wasn’t expecting to find you running a village."

Isolde followed his gaze and corrected him with a faint smile. "Twenty-eight applicants hardly qualify as a village."

"Twenty-eight?"

"Including me," Isolde answered before turning and gesturing for him to walk with her. "I landed with four others. Two wanted to find water before hunting, so we found this place. Another group arrived while we were here, then someone discovered a pack of marked Ferocious Beasts nearby. Nine people trying to attack the same pack without coordination became irritating, so I divided them, gave each group an approach and told them how we’d split the markers. We killed the pack quickly. After that, nobody seemed interested in leaving."

They passed four applicants returning from the forest. One had a shallow cut across his forearm, while another carried two black examination markers.

Instead of disappearing toward his own sleeping place, the second boy approached a flat stone near the center of camp where another applicant was keeping count with charcoal. He placed both markers down, the recorder added something beside his name, then handed one marker back while dropping the other into a separate leather pouch.

Sigurd stopped.

His eyes moved toward Isolde.

She smiled.

Sigurd looked at the pouch again before asking, "You’re taking their points?"

"Taking sounds ugly," Isolde replied calmly. "I’m receiving a coordination share."

Sigurd stared at her.

Isolde folded her arms and explained, "Anyone hunting alone keeps everything they kill. Anyone joining one of my organized hunting teams agrees beforehand that part of the team’s markers enters the camp pool. The applicants scouting, carrying water, preparing food and standing watch still need points, so the pool compensates them. I receive a small share for organizing everything."

Sigurd’s expression slowly changed as he understood what she had done.

Isolde wasn’t spending her entire day searching for marked Ferocious Beasts.

She had nearly thirty people doing it.

He glanced toward the groups moving through the clearing before asking, "How small is your small share?"

Isolde’s eyes narrowed with amusement. "Small enough that everyone thinks it’s fair."

"That wasn’t an answer."

Isolde smiled. "It was the only answer you’re getting."

Sigurd laughed quietly.

Clever.

Most applicants were treating the examination like hunters. Find beasts, kill beasts, collect markers. Isolde had looked at exactly the same rules and created an organization instead. Weaker applicants gained safety, information, food, water and reliable hunting partners. Stronger applicants gained scouts who could locate prey faster.

Those handling camp duties weren’t forced to sacrifice their chances of passing because they spent hours supporting everyone else.

And Isolde profited from all of them.

Not enough to make anyone resent her, but enough that every successful hunting team advanced her score without requiring her presence.

A horn sounded once from the northern edge of camp.

Isolde immediately turned.

One of the elevated lookouts raised two fingers.

Six applicants who had been resting stood and collected their weapons without being told. Another four near the fire remained where they were, while a girl with a bow moved toward the northern path.

Sigurd watched the response before asking, "Two means Ferocious Beasts?"

Isolde nodded. "One means applicants approaching. Two means Ferocious Beasts. Three means something the assigned team shouldn’t handle alone."

A scout emerged from the trees moments later, breathing hard but smiling. He approached Isolde and reported, "Seven Ironback Jackals northeast. Five have markers. We followed them long enough to confirm their route."

Isolde looked toward the six applicants already prepared and instructed them without hesitation. "Hunting Team Three takes it. Circle north before approaching so you don’t drive them toward camp. Mara, go with them. Your hearing will keep them from losing the pack if it changes direction."

A short girl beside the fire immediately rose and replied, "Understood."

Isolde pointed toward another applicant and added, "Tomas, replace Mara on second watch until she returns."

Tomas tightened the straps around his gloves and nodded. "I’ll take it."

Within a minute, the hunting team had disappeared into the forest and every responsibility they had left behind was covered.

Sigurd stared after them before looking at his cousin. "You’ve been here less than a day."

Isolde raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"You already have shifts." Sigurd pointed out.

Isolde gave him a perfectly serious expression as she replied, "People become surprisingly cooperative when you explain that sleeping in Grauwald without anyone watching the trees is stupid."

Sigurd looked around the clearing again. He had expected Isolde to be capable. Even during the short time he’d spent with his five cousins before the examination, her role among them had been obvious.

When several opinions competed, Isolde separated what mattered from what didn’t. When something needed organizing, she naturally organized it.

This was different.

These people weren’t her cousins.

Most had met her that morning.

Yet the camp worked.

An applicant carrying an empty water container approached and asked, "Isolde, the second water group hasn’t returned yet. Should I send someone after them?"

Isolde glanced toward the lowering sun before answering, "Give them another fifteen minutes. The stream bends around the southern rocks, so they may have gone farther for cleaner water. If they aren’t back by then, send two people along the marked route and inform the western lookout before leaving."

The applicant nodded and immediately walked away.

Sigurd watched him go before asking, "What happens if someone doesn’t want to listen to you?"

Isolde shrugged. "Then they don’t. This isn’t an army. Anyone can leave whenever they want."

That, Sigurd realized, was probably one reason so many stayed.

There was no threat keeping them here.

The arrangement simply worked.

Isolde’s gaze dropped toward the pouch at his waist before she asked, "How many points?"

"Six," Sigurd answered.

Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Only six?"

"I stopped hunting Ferocious Beasts."

Understanding appeared immediately in Isolde’s eyes. "Demonic Beasts."

Sigurd nodded.

Isolde smiled and glanced around her camp. "I considered doing the same, but I found something more efficient."

Sigurd followed her gaze toward the applicants preparing food, guarding the perimeter, scouting the surrounding forest and departing in organized hunting teams.

He looked back at his cousin and said, "Twenty-seven somethings."

Isolde’s smile widened. "Exactly."

Sigurd laughed again.

Isolde gestured toward the fires and offered, "You can stay tonight. No coordination share unless you join one of my hunting teams, and nobody will touch your markers. We have food, water and watches established."

Sigurd considered the offer briefly. Osric had trained him to sleep alone in places considerably worse than Grauwald, and he certainly didn’t require protection from Ferocious Beasts, but rejecting a useful camp merely to prove that he could survive without one would accomplish nothing.

"I’ll stay until morning," Sigurd decided.

Isolde nodded. "Good. Find an empty place near the western rocks. Food should be ready soon."

Sigurd started toward the indicated area before glancing back at his cousin. Isolde had already turned away because another scout had approached her.

Hunting teams moved according to routes she had assigned, lookouts watched the surrounding forest, water carriers traveled between the camp and stream, and somewhere near the center sat a leather pouch steadily filling with the camp’s shared examination markers.

Cassian had accumulated followers because people trusted his competence.

Isolde had built a machine.

And every time that machine hunted successfully, she earned points.

Sigurd shook his head with a faint smile and continued toward the western rocks. The first day of Helheim’s entrance examination wasn’t even over, and his cousin had already found a way to turn leadership into a weapon.