The town of Etheloren pulsed with life beneath the glow of twin suns, nestled within the emerald heart of Elu. Its architecture was a harmonious blend of old-world stonework and sweeping elven designs, with intricate archways and spiraled towers that reached toward the sky like fingers eager to pluck the stars. The streets, paved with enchanted cobblestone that never lost its polish, wound through bustling market squares and shadowed alleyways where the scent of fresh-baked bread and sizzling meats clashed against the sharper tang of alchemical concoctions.
Magic flowed through the town like blood through veins, woven into the very fabric of daily life. Bards lined the open courtyards, their music not just a delight to the ears but a spectacle to behold. With the flick of a wrist and the tracing of luminous runes in the air, they spun symphonies into reality—soft, golden notes that fluttered like butterflies before bursting into glowing birds that circled above the audience. Some played harps that required no strings, only the delicate motion of fingers upon glowing lines of magic, while others drummed upon invisible surfaces that sent ripples of sound through the cobblestones.
The town criers stood atop rune-etched platforms, their voices amplified by the glyphs beneath their feet as they called out the latest news.
"Tragedy strikes the House of Eldrin! Lord Haverin Eldrin found turned to solid glass in his manor! Archmage council suspects a cursed relic!"
"Beware, travelers! The Red Fang Bandits have been sighted along the northern trade roads—merchants are advised to hire escorts or face certain peril!"
"The baker's guild will hold a festival tomorrow at the Sunspire Plaza! Free bread to all who attend, courtesy of the Lady Denshire's patronage!"
"Duelists, take heed! The annual Mageblade Tournament has been delayed due to last year's champion, Ser Thalric, suffering an unfortunate encounter with a teleportation mishap! His whereabouts remain unknown!"
Laughter and murmurs followed each announcement, with townsfolk sharing speculation and gossip over tankards of honeyed mead in the many taverns dotting the city. Merchants called out from their stalls, displaying wares that ranged from enchanted jewelry to potions sealed with intricate locks that only the buyer could open.
Near the town square stood two massive contract boards, towering over the crowd with layers of parchment tacked onto their weathered wood. One bore the insignia of the Adventurer's Guild—contracts meant for exploration, gathering, or minor monster subjugation. The other, marked with an obsidian sigil, was the Hunter's Board, where only those willing to stain their hands with blood dared to tread. The contrast between the two was stark—where Adventurers dealt with relatively tame tasks, Hunters took on the contracts that reeked of death.
A crowd had gathered at the foot of these boards, but not out of curiosity for the latest postings. Suspended mid-air, flailing and cursing, was a cluster of Adventurers entangled in dark wraps covered in glowing white runes. Their limbs jerked uselessly, their weapons hanging just out of reach as they desperately tried to escape. Below them, standing with hands on her hips, was a woman with shoulder-length black hair, black horns curving slightly from her head, and golden slit-pupil eyes that gleamed with amusement. She was draped in black wrap clothing that mirrored the enchanted tendrils currently holding her captives hostage.
Ness.
"OI, YOU GUILD RATS!" Ness barked, a wide, toothy grin stretched across her face as she wagged a finger at the suspended Adventurers. "WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT STEALING MY CONTRACTS, HUH?"
One of the Adventurers, a lanky elf with a panicked expression, tried to reason with her. "It was an accide—ACK!" The wraps tightened slightly around his torso, cutting off his air.
"OH, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT? OH REALLY?" Ness mocked, throwing her head back in exaggerated disbelief. "Oh noooo, my delicate little hands just soooo happened to grab the wrong contract! OH FUCK, I ACCIDENTALLY SIGNED MY NAME ON IT! MY BAD!" She stomped her foot, the wraps jostling the Adventurers in the air. "DO I LOOK STUPID TO YOU?"
"Yes!" one brave soul muttered under his breath.
Ness snapped her head towards him like a predator locking onto prey. "WHO SAID THAT?"
The group collectively pointed at each other in frantic silence.
Laughter rippled through the bystanders. "Serves 'em right," one man chuckled to his friend. "You don't snatch from Hunters. That's how you end up in a gutter."
A woman leaned against a wooden post, smirking. "Guess they'll think twice before messing with that crazy woman."
The contract in question was still pinned to the board—a Hunt marked for extermination. Some rogue wyvern had nested near the eastern farmland, snatching cattle and reportedly killing a few unlucky villagers. A dangerous job, but lucrative for anyone capable. And that, apparently, did not include the Adventurers currently dangling in the air like trapped rabbits.
Ness crossed her arms, tapping her foot in mock contemplation. "You know… I was gonna just let this slide."
The Adventurers perked up with hope.
"But now that I think about it… nah."
The hope shattered.
"I think I deserve an apology," Ness grinned, her sharp canines gleaming. "And I want it sung."
The crowd erupted into more laughter as the Adventurers groaned in utter defeat.
The Adventurers, still tangled in Ness's black wraps, groaned in sheer humiliation as she grinned up at them, arms crossed. "Alright, boys, time to sing for your freedom," she said, a sadistic gleam in her golden slit-pupil eyes. "And don't half-ass it! I want passion! I want regret! I want to hear your souls crying out in shame!"
The crowd was already buzzing with laughter as the bound Adventurers exchanged hesitant glances. Finally, the lanky elf who had tried to reason with Ness earlier took a deep breath and started, his voice warbling pathetically:
"Ooooooh, we're so very sorryyyyy~"
Another Adventurer, an orc with a broken spirit, joined in, harmonizing in an off-key wail:
"We stole a contract, and now we cryyyyyyy~"
The rest, resigned to their fate, groaned before adding in a chorus:
"Ness is the greatest, we are the worst~ We'll never cross her, lest we get cursed~"
The audience exploded into cheers and whistles, some even clapping along, while others wiped tears of laughter from their eyes. Ness, however, wasn't impressed. "BOOO! What was that garbage?!" she barked, making them all flinch. "No emotion! No drama! Do it again, but this time… feel it!"
The Adventurers exchanged another look, this time sheer despair written across their faces. And yet, they tried. They truly tried, pouring all their regret into the next verse as they wailed out a sorrowful ballad about how Ness, the beautiful and terrifying Huntress, had bested them in combat and shattered their dignity.
The performance had the crowd doubled over, but just as Ness prepared to make them do another encore, something shifted in the air. A sharp presence. A movement barely perceptible—
In an instant, without warning, a blade laced with glowing runes was slashing toward Ness's throat.
The attacker, an Adventurer who had been lurking in the crowd, lunged with practiced silence, his face twisted in a desperate sneer. But just before the blade could reach her, his body stiffened. His breath hitched. A shadow loomed behind him—
And then, there was a voice.
"Lucky you…. If I wasn't so tired, I might've let that land."
A pale young man now stood back to back with the would-be assassin, his posture lazy, almost indifferent. Black dreadlocks framed his face, dark brown eyes half-lidded as if he had just been roused from a deep sleep. Under his eyes, tattoos streaked downward like smeared makeup, giving him a perpetually exhausted, mournful appearance. But what stood out most was the creature coiled around his arm—
A snake, long and covered in glowing white runes, its body lazily slithering up the Adventurer's neck.
The assassin's body shook as the snake constricted just slightly, not enough to choke, but enough to remind him that it could.
"Ness is a headache. A big one. But if anyone's going to kill her, it's going to be me."
The assassin whimpered.
Ness turned, beaming as if someone had just given her a bouquet of flowers. "Awwww, Kindred~!" she crooned. "You do care!"
"Tch. You wish." Kindred yawned.
The gathered townsfolk began whispering amongst themselves, eyes darting toward Kindred with a mixture of awe and fear.
"That's Kindred…"
"The one who almost killed a demi-god a few years back?"
"Yeah, but no one knows how he survived."
Meanwhile, Ness casually released the other Adventurers from her wraps, sending them tumbling onto the cobblestones. They wasted no time, scrambling to their feet and bolting down the street, cursing their misfortune and vowing never to take a Hunters' contract again.
Kindred, watching them flee, sighed deeply. "Y'know, Ness," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "You should really stop grabbing people at random. One of these days, you're gonna piss off the wrong person."
Ness rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know," she said with a dismissive wave. "But it's hard to tell which ones are demi-gods. They don't exactly go around wearing signs."
"They don't have to," Kindred deadpanned.
"Whatever," Ness said, stretching her arms above her head. "It's not my fault they stay hidden. I mean, if they made themselves known, some rogue mages or power-hungry freaks would probably try to gang up on them for gold or to somehow steal their power."
Kindred exhaled through his nose. "Right. So….maybe….don't make enemies of people before you know who they are, ya know."
But just as their conversation reached that point, a new sound cut through the air—
The manic, impassioned rambling of a man standing atop a rooftop.
Everyone turned, eyes landing on a figure that seemed to have materialized from nowhere. A towering man with an unkempt beard and wild spiked brown hair stood on the edge of a stone building, completely naked save for a ram's skull covering his privates. His dark blue eyes burned with madness, and in one hand, he wielded a massive, weathered bone as if it were a divine weapon.
He raised the bone high, his voice booming through the square.
"THE SKY IS MERELY THE LID TO THE WORLDS' COFFIN! WE ARE BUT WORMS SQUIRMING IN A GOD'S UNKEMPT GRAVEYARD! THE STARS? NOT LIGHTS, BUT HOLES IN THE CEILING WHERE THE DIVINE PEER DOWN, JUDGING OUR EVERY MISSTEP!"
Ness and Kindred both sighed.
"Gunjo's at it again," Kindred muttered.
Down in the crowd, people whispered among themselves.
"That's Gunjo, The First Hunter…"
"They say he's over four hundred years old."
"They also say he's completely insane."
"Yeah, but explain how he's been spotted in three different places at the same time."
"And how he never ages."
"The guy's a legend. Even if he's nuts, no one dares mess with him."
On the rooftop, Gunjo continued his tirade, swinging his massive bone like a prophet wielding divine truth.
"I HAVE SEEN THE END OF DAYS, AND IT SMELLS OF BURNT DOG AND DESPAIR! THE MOON WHISPERS TO ME IN MY DREAMS, BUT I DO NOT SPEAK HER LANGUAGE! ALL OF YOU! ALL OF YOU! WILL SOON KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO—"
Gunjo abruptly stopped, blinking as if suddenly realizing where he was. He rubbed his beard. "Wait. Where was I going with this?"
Ness chuckled. "Haha! He's definitely crazy in person!"
Kindred shook his head. "You've never ran into him up close?"
"Nope! Was I supposed to?"
As the crowd continued watching the spectacle, Ness and Kindred remained near the contract boards—until, amid the murmuring, they overheard something.
The square buzzed with energy, laughter still lingering in the air from Gunjo's latest ramblings, but Ness's sharp eyes had already flicked elsewhere—toward a familiar figure standing near the Hunters' contract board.
Kato.
There he was, in all his shirtless, roguish glory. His dark orange hair, tied back in a loose braid, shimmered like copper under the midday sun. A single eyepatch obscured one eye, but the other, a deep red, gleamed with that perpetual glint of mischief. The red rose tattoos blooming across his arm and chest only added to his effortless allure, and, as always, women were flocked around him, vying for his attention. Some batted their lashes, others brushed against his arm with giggles and coy smiles, but Kato—being Kato—was more than happy to entertain them.
Ness rolled her eyes. "Man, this guy never quits."
Kindred barely spared him a glance, too busy scratching his neck. "He's got priorities. They're just stupid ones."
But Kato wasn't just flirting—he was also deep in negotiations with another group.
A second Hunters' Guild.
They stood in stark contrast to Kato's crew. Where his guild carried themselves with the reckless bravado of seasoned killers who laughed in the face of danger, this group exuded a colder, more calculated menace. Their leader, a towering woman with stark white hair and jagged scars running down both arms, listened to Kato's pitch with narrowed, skeptical eyes. She was dressed in layers of dark furs, a curved black blade resting at her hip, her presence commanding even without words.
Her name was Sylva, leader of The Hollowed Fang.
Beside her stood her guildmates:
Jorrik, a gaunt man with a buzz cut, green eyes, and silver piercings covering his face, his long black coat stitched together with what looked like human hair.
Veyda, a short, wiry woman whose left arm was completely skeletal, held together by magic that pulsed dimly along the bones. Her face was covered in runic tattoos, wearing a brown sackcloth and a hoodie over her head.
Osric, a masked man whose runed spear dripped with something thick and black—likely blood from his last job.
Ness's curiosity sparked. She sauntered closer, tilting her head to catch what was being said.
"Look," Kato was saying, his arms crossed over his bare chest, "I'm not in the business of splitting rewards. My guild? We take our contracts, we finish the job, and we get paid. Simple as that."
Sylva wasn't impressed. "This contract isn't simple," she said, voice edged like her blade. "If it were, it wouldn't be sitting on that board, untouched for weeks."
Ness's eyes darted to the parchment Kato held in his grip. Her lips curled as she reached forward and snatched it from him before he could react.
"Hey—"
"Shut up shut up shut up wait," she muttered, scanning the document.
The contract was written in immaculate, looping cursive, its words elegant yet foreboding:
HUNTERS' CONTRACTTarget: The All Mother
Location: The Forest of Guglu
Reward: 10,000 Gold
Byp decree of the sovereign houses of Elu, a grave threat has been deemed worthy of immediate eradication. A coven of witches lurks deep within the Forest of Guglu, their dark rituals warping the very essence of life. Reports confirm that travelers who venture too close to their domain never return. Those who are found again are… changed.
Misshapen bodies. Twisted minds. Flesh that moves on its own, eyes that blink where none should be. They are no longer the people they once were. They are abominations.
At the heart of this corruption is The All Mother, the one who leads the coven. It is said she does not age. That she was there when the first stones of this land were laid. Some call her a goddess. Others call her a nightmare.
She must be killed.
Approach with extreme caution. The witches of Guglu are not mere spellcasters—they are something worse.
Steel and fire will not always be enough.
Ness let out a low whistle. "Hooo boy. This one's got all the lovely little death flags, huh?"
Nearby, Hunters and townsfolk were already murmuring about it.
"You'd have to be suicidal to take that one…"
"I heard the last group that went in never made it back."
"Witches are a different kind of evil, man. I don't mess with that."
"But isn't that also where that cursed kid is? Or near it?"
"Kylas, or whatever his name was?"
Ness blinked. "Who?"
A Hunter shrugged. "Some kid—his parents ran he's even still alive. They say he's got some kind of curse, like the forest itself won't let him die."
Ness frowned but said nothing. That was a problem for later.
Kato, meanwhile, had already moved the conversation forward. "We need this contract. My guild needs that ten thousand gold. We're trying to get to Torvh."
At the mention of the name, there was a slight hush.
Ness smiled and twirled "Torvh! The City of Silent Orchestras! Ruled by Goddess Queen Velmiru, the Choir of One! A city where music was law! Where silence was a crime, The streets pulsed with endless harmonies, the rivers whispered choral hymns, even the trees trembled to unseen melodies! No one could be mute in Torvh—whether by will or nature—without consequence! Many opportunities to get rich down there! Better high ranking contracts, everything!"
Sylva exhaled slowly. "Torvh, huh? And you think this contract is going to get you enough to buy your way into the kingdom?"
"Damn right," Kato said. "So I'm not splitting shit."
Sylva smirked. "You can have all the gold. We don't care about that. What we want is whatever we find in the witches' den. Artifacts. Relics. Things that'll sell for a whole lot more than ten thousand gold."
Ness grinned, tossing the contract back at Kato. "I'm in. Even I'm not dumb enough to go into that hellhole with just three people."
Sylva turned her sharp gaze toward Ness and Kindred. "Your guild isn't known for playing nice. Can you keep your people in line?"
Kindred let out a slow yawn, stretching his arms above his head. "That depends. Are you gonna be annoying?"
Ness snorted. "Don't mind him. He's only dangerous when he's awake."
Sylva scoffed. "Fine. We move at dawn."
Just as the agreement was settled, a booming voice rang through the square—
"TAKE ME WITH YOUUUUU!"
The group turned just in time to see Gunjo, still stark naked save for the ram's skull, standing atop a barrel with his arms dramatically outstretched. "I CAN GUIDE YOU TO THE WITCHES WITH MY ANCIENT HUNTER'S WISDOM!"
"NO," they all said in unison.
Gunjo deflated slightly. "Fair enough. But I will follow from afar." But then he gasped, and ran for, saying, "I CANNOT TRAVEL WITH YOU! OTHER DUTY CALLS."
And with that, their fate was sealed.
____________________________________________
The outskirts of the Guglu Forest lay in eternal dusk, shrouded in an eerie black fog that slithered like a living thing. The air was thick with the scent of decay, of damp earth and something far worse—something unnatural.
And there, just before the treeline, they sat.
Figures that had once been people.
A woman in a tattered white dress, her blonde hair matted against her hollow face, sat in the dirt with a vacant expression. Black worms leaked from her tear ducts, writhing down her cheeks like an endless cascade of filth. But the true horror was what rested atop her head.
A baby—if it could still be called that.
Its skin was rotten, its tiny limbs unmoving, but it was fused grotesquely with her skull, as if its very existence was leeching from hers. The woman did not scream. She did not speak. She only sat there, motionless, her lips slightly parted, her breath shallow.
Beside her, a fairy twitched violently.
Her form was a mockery of her kind—one arm grotesquely swollen with rot, its fingers curled inward like dead branches. Her wings, once delicate, were now tattered and dripping with something viscous. Worst of all were her heads—three of them, each identical, each grinning wide, their teeth blackened and cracked. And they twitched, moving too fast, their heads snapping from side to side in unnatural, jerky motions, as if reality itself was struggling to hold them in place.
Further still, two more figures loomed.
One was a man whose body was riddled with gaping mouths, each one whispering in different tones, different voices—some high, some guttural, some weeping. The mouths never stopped moving, never stopped muttering things that no sane mind could comprehend.
And the other…
A thing that had once been tall, now reduced to a mass of stitched-together limbs, a face barely distinguishable beneath the folds of pulsing flesh. Eyes blinked from his chest, his stomach, his fingers. He was breathing.
They all were.
And behind them, standing with quiet poise, was the one they called The All Mother.
Her beauty was cruel, intricate, something carved by the hands of a god with no love in their heart. A halo of roses floated above her head, their petals dark as dried blood, each one sharp as a blade. Her long black dress trailed over the ground, untouched by the filth beneath her feet.
She did not command the abominations.
She simply stood with them.
One of them, a creature that could no longer be called a man, let out a breathless whisper.
"Help…"
The All Mother's lips curved into something that might have been a smile.
"More will come," she said, her voice as soft as the wind. "More will come to keep you company."
She turned her gaze toward the distant road, toward the approaching Hunters who dared step foot into her domain.
"Hunters never know when to stay away."
_________________________________________
(Kylas' garden)
The weight on his back was not unbearable, but it was irritating beyond belief. His arms trembled slightly as he pressed his body up from the ground, sweat slicking his skin, his breath coming in short, sharp exhales. Every push-up felt pointless. Every second under this ridiculous training method made him want to hurl Seraph across the garden and be done with it. Seraph was sitting on his back.
'This is insane!' Kylas thought.
And yet, Seraph remained perfectly balanced atop him, one leg crossed over the other, her tail flicking lazily. She was smiling, her fox-like elegance effortless, her eyes glinting with amusement as she watched him struggle.
"This is humiliating," Kylas grunted, his arms straining as he pushed himself up once more.
"Trust me," Seraph replied, her voice smooth, infuriatingly calm. "Strength of body and strength of mind must move together. If you cannot handle me sitting on you, how do you expect to control something as wild as your own power?"
Kylas scoffed. "I guess you're right..sorry for complaining."
"Oh? Was that an apology from Kylas?"
"N-No! You're hearing shit."
"Mm. Here I thought you were an honest human for a quick second, forgive me."
Kylas thought, 'Craaap! She was actually thinking something good about me? Then I ruined it?! What is wrong with me?!'
Kylas groaned loudly, pressing his forehead to the dirt in frustration before forcing himself back up again. "I got this, don't worry. I'm not giving up like a little wuss. You saw how strong I was."
"If you're trying to make me fall for you just because of your strength, it's a horrible attempt for a human—."
"NO! NO! NO! I'm just pointing it out. I was a little strong."
'That was close…'
From a distance, Gunthr and Zedlock watched, their massive armored forms shifting with their usual silent communication. Gunthr lifted one gauntlet slightly, tilting it in a manner that clearly translated to, What is he doing?
Zedlock, ever the more expressive of the two, raised both hands before bringing them together in slow, exaggerated claps—mocking applause for Kylas' suffering.
Kylas glared at them, his patience wearing dangerously thin.
Gunthr lifted both gauntlets in surrender, while Zedlock simply continued his silent applause, clearly entertained.
Kylas ground his teeth together, sweat rolling down his temple.