Murmur – Murmur –
Murmur – murmur –
The stands erupted into a buzz of unrest as Adel's sudden disappearance left the spectators in an uproar.
"Instructor! Adel's been gone for a while now—what's going on?!"
"That's right! All the other trainees are showing up on the magic orb, but he's vanished!"
Questions flew from the trainees, but the instructor standing before the magic formation remained silent, offering no response.
"Something must've happened."
"Yeah. Probably tied to why he was so confident earlier."
"What could it be?"
Harun and Kasla couldn't begin to imagine what Adel might be up to inside the dungeon.
"Whatever it is, it's something we never saw coming. And it'll get the instructors' attention, win or lose."
"And all these trainees here too."
"Right. No matter the outcome, he's rolled the dice."
Kasla pouted her lips and nodded at Harun's words.
"The gamble's on."
"Everyone assembled?"
"All except Reglan's party of nine. Also, from the two entrance parties where Lord Yoran wasn't present, five dropped out on the way to the hill outpost."
"Why?"
"I'm sorry. The traps set by the orcs were fully implemented..."
Yoran glared at the trainees gathered at the base of the hills where Anok's fortress stood.
"Dropping out against mere orcs? Tell those guys they won't be joining me or Lord Syrin's hunting parties—go back to the village and do odd jobs."
"...Understood."
"Anyway, what about Reglan?"
"No idea. According to the assembled trainees, Adel might've been there..."
Yoran's right-hand man, Chasan, scratched his head as he spoke. He was built far larger than the other trainees, the son of Abika, the mighty giant among Ulan's ten captains.
"Did something happen?"
"Even so, they had nine people. No way one guy took them all out."
"But he broke Lord Hien's record on the ritual stone..."
"Kid, that was all thanks to Nazan's illusion. It was a weapon engraved with a God's Blessing. Even non-contractors can use the blessing's power."
"Exactly! The guy just got lucky!!"
The trainees nodded in agreement at Yoran's rebuke, though a few hid their unease. They knew better than to voice any opinion contrary to his here.
"Preparations?"
"All set. Smoke bombs deployed too."
"Good. No mistakes allowed. When the smoke narrows their vision—that's our chance. Remember the linked maneuvers. Execute as practiced."
"Yes!! Understood."
Yoran pushed aside his nagging doubts and prepared for the hunt.
'Merka alone is obstacle enough... and now some weirdo's interfering.'
He could never forget the look in Adel's eyes back at Hien's tent.
'Hmph. What can that punk do? We've got over twenty on our side.'
Crunch. He ground his teeth in irritation.
'Preparations are perfect. No room for errors.'
But contrary to his thoughts, he had already made a costly mistake.
They're setting off the smoke bombs. Yoran would never guess that's their worst move.
High on the hills, amid a thick stand of ancient trees, Adel watched them.
Unlike Yoran's assumption, Adel had long since reached Anok's settlement via a shortcut from Gerald's burrow.
'Nest hunters rarely use smoke bombs. Bringing something unfamiliar means the venue leaked.'
Adel couldn't hide his bitterness—not just at the favoritism toward the winner, but at the venue being predetermined too.
'The Tomb Tournament's gone all the way. Rigging victory perfectly.'
"They don't get it. This way, it means nothing."
Shing—
Adel drew his sword.
"Set off the smoke!! Time to hunt Anok!"
It was then.
Yoran's voice rang out. And at the same moment, Adel vanished.
Hunt time, as he said.
But the target was different.
"Squad 1! Shields up! Squad 2! Arrows ready! Squad 3, follow me. Anok's vision is poor. Once the smoke hits, it won't see a thing—chip away at its health with arrows as much as possible."
"Understood."
"Got it!!"
"When its eyes glow red, it enrages. That's the most dangerous moment. Everyone fall back then. I'll finish it off."
The trainees nodded at Yoran's words. Anok's rage phase was indeed the deadliest—but his order was basically telling them to step aside for his win.
No one complained, though. A single grumble could get them booted from the Nest.
'Lord Syrin might handle this differently...''Having to do this crap.''What a drag.'
The trainees just hoped the Tomb Tournament would end quickly.
"Don't worry. Once this is over smoothly, I'll personally ask our brother to let you into his Wild Beast Squad."
"Th-thank you!!!"
Yoran caught their expressions and added the sweetener before the hunt began.
"As you know, among our brothers' parties, Syrin's Wild Beast Squad has the most achievements. Merka's Sprout Squad's probably forgotten how to shoot arrows."
"Heh, true."
"Of course. For Ulan hunters, it's gotta be the Wild Beast Squad."
"Please put in a good word with Lord Syrin..."
The weary, bored participants perked up at Syrin's name, suddenly fawning over Yoran.
'Authority and power only work in the right hands. Pearls before swine.'
Adel shook his head pityingly at the sight.
"Begin!! Light 'em up!!"
At Yoran's shout, the trainees detonated the planted smoke bombs in unison.
Boom—!
Kaboom—!!!
Whiiiish---!!!
Thick white smoke billowed up, engulfing the hills.
[Kuoooaaah—!!]
Anok burst from the settlement clutching a massive hammer, a dozen orcs following with rusty axes.
"Front line! Advance!!! Charge!!"
At Yoran's command, shield-bearing trainees surged forward.
Vwooom……!!!
Anok swung its enormous hammer.
Crunch—!!
The battered hammer, studded with bent nails, smashed into the shields, sending three or four trainees flying.
"Gah!!!"
"Cough……!!"
Trained at the Nest or not, they lacked real combat experience. Their inexperience created openings, and the monsters weren't dumb enough to ignore them.
[Krrk! Krrrk!!!]
Anok raised its hammer, bellowing in guttural orcish. The orcs poured through the broken shield line.
"Damn it, you idiots!! Forget joining the Wild Beast Squad—I'll have you exiled from the Nest! What are you doing?! Squad 2, shoot—!!!"
Yoran cursed from the rear at the crumbling front.
Unlike Nest trainees, Hien's sons led their own parties in real hunts from childhood. Having watched hunters his whole life, Yoran saw differently.
'Yoran's no genius, but his experience sets him apart from these trainees. And that's his downfall.'
Adel's plan hinged on skilled hunters moving—but these followers were green as grass, slower and weaker than Yoran thought.
'For a sure win, Yoran, you should've led from the front. Not barked orders from behind.'
That was why, unlike Merka and Syrin, he lacked prestige as Ulan's heir.
'Born of Hien's blood unlike the adopted kids, yet less talented than his brothers.'
That gap had turned him into Syrin's lackey without even trying to bridge it.
'Everyone's got a story. Fail to overcome it, and you're culled.'
Yoran's "experience" was still child's play to Adel's eyes.
"Lucky for you this life's different, Brother Yoran."
He leaped into the thick smoke.
"Thanks to me, no needless deaths. No dishonor. Not that he'd ever appreciate my mercy."
In his past life, Yoran had won the Tomb Tournament too. Adel knew the outcome despite not being at the Nest—simple reason.
'It was the deadliest in Tomb Tournament history.'
One dead, twenty-eight injured. The horrific toll spread through the tribe instantly. Instructors warned of casualties, but no one imagined it happening.
'Cost him the succession race—Syrin even cast him out...'
Not this time. The winner would change.
"...Fire!! Shoot!!"
Yoran screamed frantically. But with the front broken, Squad 2's archers couldn't respond fluidly.
"Wh-where?!"
"Front line!! Spot the monsters!"
"But..."
Once formation crumbled, panic set in.
Yoran had researched Anok's Hills and its tactics upon learning the venue.
'Anok's poor vision is true, and smoke bombs work for hunting them.'
But that was for veteran hunters, not trainees.
'Smoke blinds the orcs, sure—but it blinds you too, idiot.'
Squad 2 were top Nest archers, but only in controlled training grounds.
'Fear of the unknown in zero visibility strips precision fast.'
Twang.
Adel narrowed his eyes and nocked an arrow.
Shoop—!!
His arrow struck a front-line trainee's shield mid-clash with an orc. The trainee staggered.
Vwoom……!!
As he fell, an orc axe whistled just over his head.
"A-ambush!!"
The struck trainee yelled.
"Where!!!"
"That bastard... Hiding in the smoke, coward!!"
"Adel's here!! Watch for incoming arrows!"
"Hold positions!!"
The trainees shouted desperately.
"Aaagh……!!"
"Aaaah……!!"
But from the smoke came only screams.
"Damn it."
Yoran grimaced at the piercing cries, stomping helplessly, clueless.
"What the hell..."
As the screams faded, the smoke shrouding the hills began to thin.
"Ughhh......"
"Cough, cough......"
Yoran's eyes took in the scattered, fallen trainees.
"Where's Adel?! Where's that punk!!!"
He scanned frantically, shouting.
"Brother. Looks like you can't see your allies."
"...!!"
It was then.
Adel hadn't hidden or fled. Instead, he stood boldly in the hill's center, as if on cue.
"You bastard...!!! Sneaking from behind?!"
"Who knows. Without me, you'd all be dead. Your trusty leader just yelled while doing nothing."
"...What?"
"You should be grateful I saved your lives."
At Adel's words, Yoran glanced at the downed trainees. They groaned but none were dead.
Anok's minions, however, lay pierced through throat and chest by arrows.
"Arrows without tips. Painful hits, but non-lethal. Even trained, you're all green."
Adel explained.
"Moving wildly in smoke? You'd have friendly-fired and wiped yourselves out."
"...You."
"Brother. The Tomb Tournament isn't about verbally herding minions to show off."
Twang.
"It's showing your chops as a hunter."
Adel slowly drew his bowstring.
"Watch closely. A real hunter cuts the prey's throat with their own hands."
A chill ran down Yoran's spine.
The words felt like a warning aimed straight at him.