First Evaluation in the Dusky Eoduk Forest (3)
Clang! Edmon pressed his blade against his opponent's, shattering their balance. The difference between one who cloaked their weapon in aura and one who couldn't was stark. He shook off the aura-less hunter, only for another ma-beast hunter at the same 1st Ring level, Bran, to latch on immediately.
"Not as dainty as you look, huh?"
No matter how hard he tried to shake him off, Bran clung like the others. "Ngh!"
The forest grew darker by the minute. With it, the sparks flying from clashing blades burned brighter. Edmon panted heavily.
Clang! They knocked each other's swords aside.
"Hah!"
Bran seized the opening, thrusting a long kick. It slammed dead into Edmon's chest. Reeling backward, Edmon expelled all the air from his lungs. Dizziness blurred his vision amid the sharp pain.
"Kuhk...."
"E-Edmon."
"I can... still go."
Bina was fending off four. Individually, she and Edmon outclassed them by far, but numbers were the issue.
If only it were one-on-one.
Edmon reset his stance. Even at the same realm as him, Bran's lack of formal training was obvious. His swordplay had no form—probably half-learned at best, or just raw talent that let him weave his ring. Edmon, by contrast, had undergone systematic instruction since childhood, with private tutors drilling him relentlessly. His fundamentals were unmatched here.
My technique's superior. The problem is...
Two more hunters flanked Bran, harassing Edmon. They'd learned from losing three comrades: young, but strong. Overwhelm with numbers.
Thud.
Edmon's back met Bina's. Pushed steadily rearward, they'd ended up like this. Seven foes left, and dragging it out only worsened their odds. Edmon knew it.
"What... do you want?"
Bran stepped forward with a snickering grin, fully aware of his advantage. "Money. Long as we get paid, we'll take any job."
"That's all?"
"What, wanna negotiate now?"
Edmon swallowed hard. Bargaining from weakness was futile—they could take everything regardless.
"Ahahaha! Kid's got no clue."
Bran shook his head. "You think I'd let you live? You've seen our faces."
As Edmon's mouth clamped shut, the hunters burst into laughter echoing Bran's. Bina trembled, wounds everywhere, on the verge of dropping her sword. Edmon glanced her way, mind racing for an escape, a wedge to crack them open.
Flutter.
Flutter.
A crow perched on a branch in the corner of his vision.
"Um...."
The hunters' tearing laughter died at the childish girl's voice.
"C-Could you... maybe stop...?"
***
Sunset loomed.
"Hek! Hek!"
The crow flew slow for my sake, but the endless uphill had my breath scorching my throat.
"Crow... Mr. Crow... slower...."
My legs screamed, begging for rest. Yesterday's march and campout fatigue lingered.
"Caw."
"We're almost there...? Yeah, that's the most unreliable line ever."
"Ten more minutes." Nothing less trustworthy.
"Oh, this is...."
The slope leveled into the clearing where I'd split from Edmon and Bina. Where the boars had swept me up.
"Caw."
The crow paused, then veered inward.
"Did they catch the boar...?"
My tumble into the boars' charge had botched the plan. I figured it'd stop dead on death—who knew it'd barrel on blindly? Instinct's terrifying. Even sans life, it charged till something blocked it.
Monsters are hypotheses of instinct maxed out, right?
Thud.
"Eek?!"
Chasing the crow mindlessly, my foot snagged.
"Wh-What?!"
Already rushed, I looked back to see what tripped me.
"...."
A corpse. Burly, draped in animal hides.
"E-EwAAAAH!"
I scrambled back screaming. Never imagined a body here. Heart pounding. Who? Why on this path? Tied to Edmon and Bina? Dread swirled.
If it was a monster, would the body be this intact?
Calming a bit, I crept closer. No bites—just a massive gash across the chest.
Slashed. By a sword. Human.
"Caw."
The crow urged me on.
"G-Gonna go!"
Ominous. Scary. Nightmares bloomed. I hurried.
No sign of barg packs nearby. Their absence meant something they couldn't handle lurked.
And.
"Ahahaha!"
I found them.
"Kid's got no clue."
Wounded Edmon and Bina leaned back-to-back, gasping. Similar hide-clad men encircled them—battle scars and wary eyes telling the tale.
"You think I'd let you live? You've seen our faces."
The leader-type said. Edmon's face soured. I could guess what came next.
Seven total.
I could claim six deaths. One spent on the boar.
Even so.
Step.
I advanced. Shaking, terrified—but I had to.
"...."
The crow blocked me, staring silently. Warning? Dangerous?
"Please hurry as fast as you can."
Legs quaking like lead weights. But I pushed past Mr. Crow, onward.
"U-Um...."
Heart racing. Breath ragged. Peak tension.
"C-Could you... maybe stop...?"
All eyes turned to me. I gripped my dagger's hilt.
***
"What the hell's that?"
Bran eyed the approaching pink-haired girl. A hunter beside him sauntered over, hands in pockets.
"Hey there, little miss... lost?"
"S-Stay back!"
Yufir yelled, clutching the stubby hilt.
"Uhaha! Too cute. Hey! Check this out."
The hunter cackled, advancing on Yufir.
"Let those two go!"
"Huh?"
His face twisted at her words.
"You... know 'em? Big sis and bro?"
He gripped his axe. Yufir paled further.
But Bran watching from behind tilted his head.
Suit. Same outfit.
"Hey, something's off."
Bran called, but the hunter ignored him.
"Let them go and...."
"Who the fuck you ordering─?!"
The hunter raised his axe high.
Thuk.
His voice cut off. Arm dropped, body slumped to the dirt.
"Wh-What?!"
"Hey! Get up!"
Chaos erupted. A hole pierced the fallen hunter's jaw. Yufir's dagger blade gleamed extended.
"...."
The air shifted. Yufir's shoulders slackened, eyes glazing.
"One."
"You little shit!"
The dead man's buddy charged. Bran reached to stop him—but too late.
Slash.
Sword hand severed.
"A-AAAAH!"
Thuk.
"Two."
Dagger plunged into his heart.
"Hey, no one's getting cocky. She's weird."
Bran was sure. That tiny girl was off.
Whoosh.
Before they reacted, Yufir kicked off, lunging at the hunters. She dodged incoming strikes with minimal motion, targeting vitals precisely.
"Fuck─!"
"Three."
Blood sprayed from a throat.
"Eat this─!"
"Four."
Dagger jammed in his mouth. Yufir moved feather-light, evading effortlessly, leaping, sliding from sight.
"Hah...."
Bran sighed. She was murder incarnate—no, beyond familiar. She pierced every human weak point like a lifetime student of killing.
Screams marked each death. Seven became six, five... dwindling.
Yufir mounted a hunter, throttling him.
"Guh... gurk?!"
Crack.
Neck twisted impossibly. Slumped.
"Five."
Five down. Bran and one other left.
"Bran... run...."
"Like hell."
Kiiing.
Bran advanced, weaving aura into his sword, facing the girl.
"I'm not like those scrubs."
"...."
Yufir silent. Bran smirked, swinging.
Whoosh, swish, whoosh!
Only air. Precise power swings missed her entirely.
"Why the fuck won't it hit?!"
Head tilts, step shifts—casual dodges grated. He hooked his arm inward, thrusting deep.
Clang!
Sparks flew. Yufir parried with her dagger, slipping inside. Bold. Close quarters favored the stronger against aura users.
"Hah!"
Free hand grabbed for her. She ducked low, slid between his legs, mounted his back.
"Slippery little─!"
Bran clawed to shield his carotid. Dagger pierced his palm instead.
"GYAAAAH!"
Blade spared his throat. Groaning, Bran hurled Yufir dagger-first. It yanked free mid-flight, blood streaming.
"Fuck you!"
No sacrifice, and it'd been his neck. Her attacks landed fatally; his didn't touch.
That pink-haired girl was wrong.
"What the hell are you...."
Bran retreated. Yufir's eyes met his—empty. He laughed hollowly.
"Haha, fucking ominous."
Her gaze screamed no reasoning. Bran raised his aura-clad sword.
Fwosh!
They charged. Blades met in perfect unison; Yufir's bun unraveled.
And Bran.
"Fucking cheat... haha, learn this and you always win─."
Thud.
His head hit dirt. Final words.
"Six."
Yufir stood before it, still. One hunter remained, frozen, piss streaming down his legs.
"Sp-Spare me...."
Yufir stared silently.
"U-UAAAAH!"
Panicking, he snatched a discarded crossbow, aiming at Yufir.
"Die!"
As he fired, a hand batted it down.
Thuk!
Bolt hit ground; an arm choked his throat.
"Gek?! Gurgle....!"
Tanned instructor Blackrose. She squeezed till he passed out, then dropped him. Approaching agents bound him.
Blackrose scanned the carnage. Brutal. Edmon and Bina huddled, breathless, rooted like they'd seen forbidden sights.
She shrugged at Yufir.
"Ppikak... you okay?"
Yufir stood motionless, then crumpled unconscious.
"Whoa."
Thud.
Blackrose caught her, hoisting her up.
"Good work. Edmon, Bina—head back. Evaluation's over."
They nodded, sheathing weapons, but lingered, staring.
"Not dead, not hurt. I'm no doc, but I can tell that much."
"Really?"
"Just sleep it off. Burned a ton of mana, though."
Blackrose smirked.
"Move it. Your little hero Ppikak's on me."
She gazed at the peacefully sleeping Yufir. Shared crow vision en route—she'd seen it all. One thought dominated.
Edwin, what the hell did you bring us?