Online In Another World

389 Hunter and Hunted



Through some dangerous obstacles of terrain, such as having to swing over a pit of quicksand and navigate through a basin of snakes, he found his way out of the jungle after walking throughout the entire day and night cycle.

“…Hff…”

Pushing past the boundaries of the colossal trees, he dropped to his knees as he was free from the overbearing jungle, sitting upon a field of grass as he caught his breath. The rain continued falling as he looked up towards the large, clay walls before him.

Brought close to the walls now as he picked himself up, he found them to be questionable in appearance: they were heavily damaged, layered with damaged marks that looked like massive claws had taken chunks out of the city-wide walls.

There was a stone-paved road that led to the front gates of the city, though he looked around, finding nobody around–no merchants coming in-and-out, no adventurers, and certainly no guards standing around.

‘Just what is this place? It seems off,’ he questioned.

Arriving in front of the gates of the unknown city, he looked up towards the designs etched into the weathered material; there were many “X” shaped decorations running along it, though run down by the cascading rain.

Though he didn’t see any guards protecting the gate, he did find spears laying on the ground just in front of the entrance, along with spillage of blood that ran slick on the ground.

“–” Emilio knelt down to investigate, running his fingertip across the blood that ran along the clay ground, finding it to be runny, likely from the rainfall.

There was no doubt in his mind that something was wrong here, though there was too much he didn’t know. After all, the entire continent he walked upon was foreign to him.

‘…This is giving me seriously bad deja vu,’ he thought.

As he stood in front of the gate of two, massive clay doors which were cut up and stained with blood, he slowly pushed his hand against it, parting the gigantic doors as they grumbled from the dormant weight.

“–” He quietly walked through the opened doors, entering the unknown city through a short tunnel between the walls leading in.

The smell immediately hit him, washing across his nose like a repellant warning him to turn back: the stench of death. It was an unforgettable, unmistakable smell; the sickening-sweetness of it all–the atmosphere of post-mortem.

‘This is…’ He thought.

Slowly entering the city, it was left in ruins; buildings were torn apart, burned, and the bodies of those that occupied the walled-in civilization were left eviscerated, cut apart and strewn across the clay-formed streets.

“What the hell happened here…?” He asked in an audible mumble.

As he walked further down the street, he found puddles of blood running along the grooves of the torn pathways; the entire city looked as though a tornado had run through it, yet the brutal wounds that left its inhabitants dead spoke of something else–something more malevolent.

Looking back towards the towering walls, he found cannons that lined the top of them, though half of them pointed outside of the city, half were pointing towards the interior. This struck him as odd, alongside another detail he noticed along the gargantuan barrier: claw marks that ran along a section of the top and went down.

‘An attack?…It definitely wasn’t human if so,’ he thought.

Even as he tried to be pragmatic about the situation, he found the breath leaving his lungs as he walked a bit farther down the street, stumbling upon a gruesome sight: two children–seeming to be a brother and sister, were left mauled and disemboweled, though holding each other’s hands even in the end.

He covered his mouth and nose, though it didn’t prevent the feelings within from bubbling up as memories flashes across his mind before–

“Pyeeugh…!”

Leaning against the wall of the ruined building beside him, he vomited the bile from his stomach onto the ground. It was as he thought–”Deja Vu’ was right–the overwhelming atmosphere of death, so gruesomely laid out around him, was abhorrently reminiscent of his experience in Larundog.

‘Is there anybody left?…An attack like this on what looks like a major city…It doesn’t look like it happened too long ago,’ he questioned.

Moving on as he carefully breathed in to steel his own nerves, it only seemed as though the density of corpses grew; the demon race that inhabited Ennage were hardly different from humans, making it all too close to home for him.

Merchant carriages were torn to shreds, along with the horses that once guided them as he passed by a fallen stallion that had its throat ripped away, leading a deep, red puddle that was constantly diluted by the downpour.

“–” He briefly looked down before continuing forward.

The presence of dawn did nothing to lessen the eeriness of the fallen city as solemn, dark clouds hung above, blocking any graceful light of the sun as only the rain continued to descend. Exploring the fallen city, he entered some buildings in hope of finding anybody potentially who had survived whatever had happened, searching for answers, though only finding more death in every corner.

Lifting a fallen shelf within a home, he almost covered his mouth again at the sight of a mother who had been crushed below it, clutching her child to her chest–neither made it.

‘…Has nothing been left?’ He questioned.

As he exited the ruined home, finding a scenery of nothing but the ghastly city and the endless corpses that occupied it, he found himself feeling more stranded than ever–devoid of answers or aim.

“Are you an adventurer? If so, you’re late.”

After sitting on the steps to the home he had searched, he found a rough, deep voice speaking to him, looking up to find an unknown stranger standing in the middle of the blood-bathed street.

It was a man wearing a long, black coat that almost seemed Victorian in design, over a matching turtleneck with a dark-brown, leather vest. He looked to be in his thirties, with an unshaven beard and eyes dimmed by the black fedora he wore atop his head.

The man seemed equipped for journeying, though more in line with “hunting” by the crossbow on his back and blades on his belt; a darkly-dressed stranger that certainly wasn’t recognized by the Dragonheart.

“You’re late, too,” Emilio responded.

For a moment, the stranger didn’t respond before quietly following up, “You’re right. Even if I was here though, I doubt I’d have been able to do anything to stop it.”

“Do you know what it is? I mean, what did all of…this?” He asked, curious as the stranger seemed to know something.

The man turned to look at him, “You’re not from Ennage, are you?”

“Did the lack of horns give it away?” Emilio answered.

Removing his hat from his head, the man revealed his head of long, curly, jet-black hair, but did it to reveal he also lacked any horns–a human.

“You’re…” Emilio said.

“I’m human, like you. It’s not uncommon in this land for bright-eyed adventurers from the Continent of Man to show up with dreams too big for their swords,” the stranger said, “Is that what you are?”

“No, I didn’t–” He almost spilled his curious circumstances but fixed his response, “–I’m trying to leave, actually. I need to get back to Milligarde.”

The man looked at him for a minute before letting out a small breath, turning to the side as they both looked at the abundant death left in the city.

“Jaeger,” the stranger introduced himself stoically.

“Emilio Dragonheart,” he gave his name standing up, “Do you know what did this?”

“I do,” Jaeger answered, placing his hat back on top of his head.

It seemed like the identity of the creature responsible for the city-wide massacre was a sour subject even for the veteran hunter; a taboo within the land.

“‘Iconnu’–that’s what it’s known as in this land. It’s an elusive creature that is said to be purely born of malice. I’ve only caught glimpses of it myself–it has feathers like a raven, but walks like a man,” Jaeger explained, “It’s dangerous–I do not say that lightly. We’re looking at a Cataclysm-class threat.”

“Something like that, huh? Are you the only adventurer that’s after it?” He asked.

Jaeger looked around for a moment as the atmosphere of desolation laid deep within the atmosphere, “The only one still alive.”

“Huh?”

“The quest to eliminate Inconnu has been available for over three decades in Ennage. After hundreds of adventurers failed, people have stopped trying,” Jaeger said.

“Not you though.”

Jaeger didn’t respond to that, only walking across the narrow street as he investigated some of the claw marks, “Taking out a major city like Felran is abnormal for Inconnu, though. I’ve tracked it for the past couple years–it usually only targets tiny settlements with less than a few dozen people. Something like this means it’s getting bold.”

“Yeah,” Emilio nodded, beginning to walk down the road, “Anyway, I’m going to move on.”

As the Dragonheart set his sights on finding the next major city and avoiding such a troublesome creature as it stunk of the Primordials’ influence, the ruby-shaded insignia flashed itself from his necklace, catching the hunter’s sharp, yellow irises.

“Hold on,” Jaeger called out.

“Yeah?” Emilio looked back.

The darkly-dressed hunter approached him, “You’re looking to leave Ennage, right? You don’t seem to know where you’re going.”

“Huh?” Emilio raised an eyebrow, pointing to the direction he was planning to head down.

“That way leads to a lake,” Jaeger told him.

“–” Emilio didn’t know how to respond.

The hunter was definitely perceptive, looking at him intently, “I’ll take you to one of the major port cities and help you get back to Milligarde–one of the captains owes me a few favors, anyway. In exchange, I want your help taking down this monster.”


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