Chapter 569: A Born Hunter?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 569: A Born Hunter?
The Holy City-State was famous for its refusal to waste a single coin.
"Haha, I shall reward your efforts with a blessing."
They loved to pay people off with empty words like that. It was a well-known grievance. Whether dealing with believers or heathens, they never spent a single Krona if they could help it. They hoarded wealth, handling every possible matter internally.
If the Architect Guild were to rank the nations they hated most, the Theocracy would undoubtedly top the list. They were also the undisputed number one on the Continental Merchant Guild's list of least favorites.
Leona had once said something similar: "I respect priests, but I don't work with religious fanatics."
This sentiment applied to almost all priests, whether they were corrupt or genuinely devout. If the Theocracy needed mercenaries, they deployed their own Martial Crusader Order. If they needed guides, they sent trained Inquisitors. They even operated their own merchant guild.
"Isn't it amazing? All of this just to avoid spending a single Krona," Leona had remarked.
Encrid agreed, but he saw another layer to their isolationism. In the first place, they don't want to give outsiders any chance to interfere in the Holy Order's affairs.
Of course, keeping their Krona from leaking out was a nice bonus.
So, how unusual was this current situation? Just how much had been offered to entice outsiders into the Holy Order's business?
The men who made a living tracking others—bounty hunters—wouldn't even budge without an advance. This meant they had already received a substantial sum of Krona. That alone was surprising.
Encrid pondered this as he moved, but their boldness surprised him even more. The agents sent from the Theocracy must have spread the word far and wide the moment they crossed the Naurilian border. Utilizing an Information Guild would make posting such a commission child's play. They would have to pay a hefty fee, of course, but if they cared about the cost, they wouldn't have commissioned the job in the first place.
In other words, from the moment they left the Theocracy, they had spared no expense in their hunt for the Saintess. Their intentions were far easier to read than those of some non-existent kidnapper.
Profit.
Capturing the child who had become the Saintess would yield a far greater return than the Krona spent hiring a few hunters. A noble cause? There was no such thing. Both his intuition and the unfolding situation pointed to that singular truth.
"Who are you?"
The three pursuers lacked the eyes to recognize who they were facing. All three wore thin leather garments—material sturdy enough to serve as armor in an emergency, yet light enough for mobility.
"What about the trail of the kid you're chasing? You haven't found it, have you?"
As Encrid spoke, he realized his first lead was a dead end. In that case, he had no business with them.
"These bastards... You must've heard the rumors and decided to tag along, but this isn't a job for random nobodies," the woman glared fiercely, her voice laced with anxiety.
The three who had suddenly appeared clearly weren't ordinary. Audin's massive frame alone was intimidating, but there was also an elf, and a man whose face commanded immediate attention.
Why is he so damn handsome?
Despite her shock, she couldn't help but stare. His black hair and blue eyes seemed to cast a spell over her. But she wasn't about to let her guard down and blurt out something as stupid as a compliment.
From the woman's reaction, Encrid could tell the Krona offered by the Theocracy was no small sum. Had he ever seen the Holy Order conduct an operation like this? Never. But since he didn't actually care about the exact amount, he didn't need an answer.
"Audin."
Encrid stepped toward the man on the right. It wasn't a simple approach. To his opponent, it looked as if Encrid had suddenly expanded, filling his vision.
Without needing to leap, he leaned forward, activated Strong Legs, channeled his Will, and propelled himself. Instantly, the man's face loomed large before him. He watched the man's expression shift in real-time from wariness to sheer horror.
Encrid's senses were on a completely different level compared to ordinary swordsmen. Just as the man's face contorted to gasp, the edge of Encrid's hand struck the back of his neck.
Stopping a single step to the right of his target, Encrid swung his arm. His left arm whipped forward in a smooth, lash-like curve.
Thud!
The man let out a choked gasp and collapsed. Encrid caught him before he hit the ground and laid him down gently.
Beside him, Audin had charged at a similar speed, neutralizing the remaining two. He brought his clenched fist down like a hammer onto the crown of one hunter's head.
Bam!
The man wasn't dead, but his eyes rolled back, showing only the whites as he collapsed with a low groan. Audin lightly seized the last one by the throat, cutting off his breath.
"Ack, ugh..."
Suspended in the air, the man flailed his legs. Dirt and dry leaves scattered from his boots, his toes barely brushing Audin's chest. It was a futile resistance.
Thud.
Audin casually knocked him unconscious and set him down. Since there were no signs of monsters nearby and they wouldn't be out for long, they would likely survive.
"Let's move to the next one."
Encrid immediately set off. From here on, the task was straightforward. He moved based on footprints, broken branches, scents, sounds, and the traces of dead monsters. To an outside observer, he would look like a madman sprinting through the wilderness.
Along the way, he ran into a familiar face. It was a bastard who had once offered him seventy percent of a commission fee if he stepped up to fight first. A kidnapper, a scoundrel, a piece of trash—any of those terms fit him perfectly.
Encrid had assumed the man was long dead, but he was still breathing. That "seventy percent" offer had been a blatant lie, and the Encrid of that time had responded by luring a demonic beast to the man before fleeing. This was their first meeting since then.
This man wasn't a master of tracking; he was the type to solve everything with brute force. His muscular limbs and a heavy flail were his trademarks. Blood dripped steadily from that very flail now. Beside him lay the corpses of two women, likely members of another party of pursuers.
"Blinded by greed for Krona, so you took those two out first?" Encrid asked, assessing the scene.
The bounty hunter failed to recognize Encrid. The same went for the two men standing beside him. Even if rumors of the Knight of the Iron Wall had spread, few would recognize him face-to-face. Audin's size was absurd, but they merely assumed he was a Half-Giant rather than the Bear Beastman of the Border Guard.
Sinar spoke, her eyes fixed on the ground. "You backstabbed them."
He must have lured them in with an offer to cooperate, only to strike from behind, crushing their skulls with his flail.
"Who the hell are you guys?" the man barked, brimming with the same misplaced confidence he'd had years ago.
To be fair, he had the skills to back it up back then. But not anymore. To Encrid, the past was just the past. He didn't hold a grudge; he was a man who lived for tomorrow. However, even if backstabbing was routine among hunters, this crossed a line.
"You've gone a bit too far."
Without bothering to introduce himself, Encrid drew his sword. He drew, stepped, and slashed in one fluid motion. It was the Connecting Sword of Knight Oara.
The smoothly curved line traced an irregular path through the air, leaving a long trail before straightening like a falling star. The shooting star transformed into a beam of light, plunging straight onto the opponent's head.
The flail didn't even have time to rise.
Clang!
The iron helmet was effortlessly sliced through. The Steel Slash, which he had once practiced until his hands bled, was now as natural as breathing. The resistance was negligible. The force of the draw, the angle, and the Will to sever had all aligned perfectly.
Crack!
The man's head split open along with the helmet. Because the swing was so incredibly fast, hardly any blood clung to the blade. The master of the flail collapsed beside the women he had murdered, his blood turning the brown soil black.
As soon as their leader fell, the two companions scrambled to escape.
"Huh?"
"Argh!"
They were fast, always prepared to flee at a moment's notice. That was the golden rule of hunters: if things go south, run. Unfortunately for them, their luck had run out.
A knight appearing out of nowhere to mete out justice was a statistical anomaly—as rare as a god descending to deliver punishment. Encrid caught both fleeing men within his sensory domain. The actions that followed were merely the realization of the future he had already foreseen through his insight.
Encrid spread his arms like wings and snapped them shut. Two daggers whistled through the air.
Thud! Thud!
One dagger pierced a man's neck, pinning him to a tree. The other embedded itself deep into the second man's skull. He flailed for a moment, slammed into a trunk, and slid down, dead.
"The God awaits you," Audin offered a brief prayer.
It was perhaps better not to mention that the deity in question was the God of War—a god who, according to doctrine, welcomed the dead by beating them half to death first. Knowing that, Audin's words were hardly a blessing, though he meant them sincerely. If asked, he would simply say, "If they did things worthy of a beating, shouldn't they be beaten?"
The group kept moving. Encrid continued to spare or kill based on his own internal compass. To Sinar, Encrid’s standards were crystal clear. He spared those who merely minded their own business, but he never hesitated to execute those who committed subhuman acts out of greed.
He wasn't just dispensing punishment; he was acting according to his heart. His standard for right and wrong didn't rely on the judgment of others, but on his own soul. To Sinar, that conviction looked radiant.
They encountered more hunters. Some spoke willingly, intimidated by the group's aura.
"The trail led into the forest, so we followed. But a child entering this place alone is suicide. We were just hoping to find her body while avoiding the monsters... Well..."
The speaker trailed off, swallowing hard. He had heard a Manticore lived in these woods, but he had just watched that very Manticore be sliced into six neat pieces by a slender elf. It was a sight that commanded absolute respect.
"I see. Do you know where the Crusader Order is?"
"They didn't enter the forest. We agreed to signal them if we found anything." He gestured to an arrow with a pouch of glittering powder.
Encrid glanced at the arrow and moved on. If they played their cards right, they might find the child first.
But isn't the lack of tracks almost too extreme?
An exceptionally skilled Ranger might be able to erase their footprints, but this was too thorough. Doubt crept in.
"Sinar. This trail."
The elf understood immediately. "Yes, I find it strange as well."
It was bizarre. They were told she went east, and there was nowhere else to hide but this forest. Encrid decided to adjust his approach, moving more boldly. Since the local beasts posed no threat, he charged in a straight line the moment he spotted any trace.
They tracked down and interrogated fifteen different parties. Not a single one had found a real trace of the child.
This makes no sense. Even if she were the incarnation of a master hunter, this would be impossible.
Encrid stopped in his tracks. "Ha."
One of the most important aspects of tracking was chasing lines, not points. You had to predict the target's psychology to map their path. Predicting a single point—where they were now—was hard, but finding the line of their intent was usually easy.
The question he had asked himself when leaving the city returned to him: Are you a born hunter?
He scanned the forest again. It wasn't that there were no traces. The pursuers were professionals; they had seen signs of someone entering. They assumed she was dead and hoped to find a corpse or bone fragments. But even that would be difficult here. The Manticore Sinar had killed was a creature that relished chewing humans down to the bone.
How could a mere child survive here alone?
"I think we've been tricked."
To be precise, they hadn't been fooled by the Crusader Order, but by the target herself. They had been completely hoodwinked by the Saintess's deception.
Encrid organized his thoughts and began to trace the girl's movements backward, looking for the truth hidden beneath the false trail.