Hunter’s Blade

C14 – Crossing The Forest

Go north.

The journey was long, and it was accompanied by towering trees along the way.

Shire carried a leather bag on his back, wearing no other clothing except for a black cloak tied around his waist. He braved the cold wind with his bare chest. At seventeen years old, he was at a unique age, neither fully adult nor child. It was the prime of his youth, filled with strength and vigor.

As the bandages around his waist were removed, a layer of purple scab covered his wound. It resembled a witch’s salve, with the flesh having fused together. It was a peculiar sight. However, the pain had completely vanished, occasionally replaced by a comforting warmth.

Etienne had mentioned that some hunters died from complications after being treated with the magical potion, while others survived and grew hardier. Perhaps due to psychological factors, Shire truly felt stronger and healthier than ever before.

The potion-makers were wizards who hailed from a vast swamp located beyond the borders. Numerous rivers flowed down from the southern mountains, converging into the northern bay, forming an intricate network of waterways. Over time, the water collected and transformed into a swamp. The ancestral wizard resided there, teaching the local inhabitants the ways of witchcraft and establishing the swamp as a realm of magic.

The marshland neighbored the Lawman Kingdom, leading to frequent visits by wizards to Lorman. They exchanged their spells for supplies and were often employed by lords as consultants to tackle supernatural occurrences within their territories.

Etienne took Shire to visit a witch, known for her volatile temperament and impatience. She berated the Devil Hunter and remained vigilant, with an agile Sub-Dragon serving as a guard against thieves. Furthermore, she possessed profound magical abilities. The magic rope in Shire’s backpack was crafted by this very witch.

Shire couldn’t help but feel concerned, not wanting to disappoint the old hunter.

“You don’t need to feel accountable for the dead, fool,” Gradiu rudely mocked. “He’s already deceased. Even if you fall from grace, he won’t voice a single complaint, for he cannot speak.”

“Things like you won’t understand.”

“I don’t need to understand. These things that are a burden to your actions are all trash. The so-called responsibility, duty, morality… are all your mental debts that make you worry for the rest of the night.”

“Then do you think I should live without principles? No bottom line?”

“Look, I don’t care about principles. I’m still alive and well. Learn to disregard rules so you can take advantage of those who follow them. When they are held back by superficial things, you can be the first to seize the opportunity.”

If only I were a knowledgeable hunter, well-versed in the rules of society, then I could teach this guy a lesson.

“Bah, even if you spend your whole life mastering countless knowledge, you can only achieve a level of wisdom and eventually discard all your previous knowledge. But my experience spans countless years, and I’m guiding you at the fifth level. So abandon your foolish notions and peacefully follow my teachings.”

Despite the lengthy conversation with Gradiu, Shire didn’t feel bored. Devils never lacked stories and topics to share. The devil varied his tone of conversation—sometimes aggressive, sometimes humble, sometimes cruel, and sometimes humorous. He was an amusing companion, but Shire remained on guard. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Moreover, they needed to be cautious around devils.

Shire didn’t know the exact path, but he followed the direction of the sunrise and sunset, heading north. He had heard people talk about reaching the coastline in ten days after leaving Twilight Forest and heading north. Gray Tree Hall stood on the coast, so once they reached the beach, they would quickly find a bustling city.

“What a hasty idea,” the devil commented. “You may take a detour and go in the wrong direction. You’ll meander through the forest, wasting time. Eventually, you’ll exhaust your supplies without leaving the forest.”

This was true. Shire had been walking for many days, yet he hadn’t glimpsed the forest’s edge. It caused him some worry.

He walked and slept during the night, enduring the cold by placing his back against the wind. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep at night, so he would walk during the day. His soles were pierced by thorns and weeds, continuously bleeding. He longed for his shoes and clothes, yearned for a bed and a fire. Most of the time, Shire was hungry and could only find wild fruits to sustain himself. Squirrels and rabbits moved faster than him. Nevertheless, he still carried a crossbow. Whenever he shot an animal, he soon had roasted meat to eat.

On the fifth day, his foot wounds had formed scars. His skin had toughened, and his feet, once accustomed to wearing shoes, now adapted to the touch of the ground. Day by day, he ventured further away. In the silent forest, he was the sole companion of demons. Gradiu resided within Shire’s soul. Gradiu’s vision was limited, only able to see things in close proximity. Thus, Shire described to the devil what he observed. The sun rose in the sky. Pine trees dotted the distant landscape.

There were no signs of human habitation, allowing animals to roam freely. Shire witnessed animal trails in the forest, and a large herd of majestic white deer gracefully passed through. These noble creatures made Shire feel as if he were in a dream. Even after their departure, he remained entranced for quite some time.

The feeling of distancing himself from the world wasn’t so bad, as there was always hope. The forest wasn’t boundless.

On the seventh day, a river appeared before him, stirring excitement within Shire. He recalled that when everyone entered Twilight Forest, they crossed a river, likely the one before him now. Crossing the river meant they weren’t far from Gray Tree Hall.

He strolled along the riverbank, mesmerized by the gentle babbling of the water as it cascaded against the rocks, creating a symphony of crisp sounds. It was the Frost Moon, the tenth month of the year, and the weather had gradually grown colder. The river’s water had also chilled, so Shire squatted down, scooped a handful from the riverside, and splashed it on his face. The bone-chilling river water instantly invigorated and refreshed him.

“Hiss…” Gradiu complained for a while. “It’s so cold.”

“You can feel my feelings?” Shire was confused.

“Yes, I can sense extreme sensations. It would be best if you refrained from playing such tricks. It only serves as a reminder of how delicate your nerves are, reacting significantly to changes in temperature.”

“I’ve observed your body before. It appears to burn from within. Is it scorching hot?”

“Certainly, it’s the demonic flames that continuously blaze inside me. We consume souls—souls serve as our fuel. Devils are in a constant state of burning, and if we don’t consume enough souls, we will eventually wither away.”

“If I can’t consume souls at the moment, what do I rely on to sustain myself? Depend on your soul?”

“Bah, your soul emits the corrupting aura of Aphen Flames. It offers me no sustenance whatsoever. Yes, if I can’t replenish myself with fresh souls, I will starve to death. So, for my sake, find me some fresh souls.”

“I won’t kill for you.”

“Ah, could it be that demons are so feeble that we must solely rely on human souls for sustenance? How troublesome demons are! Please provide me with the souls of animals, beasts, or monsters. Mortal souls possess their own distinct flavor.”

Shire noticed a small crab crawling along the muddy shore. He seized it and crushed it between his two fingers.

“Is that so?”

“…” Gradiu admitted, “Yes, I did eat it, but I’m still upset with you for using garbage to get rid of the demon.”

Perhaps it was Shire’s imagination, but he perceived a trace of green smoke emanating from the crab’s body and entering his own.

He tossed the crab into his mouth and vigorously chewed on it.

The flavors burst in his mouth. The briny and tender crab meat intermingled with sharp fragments, transforming into minced morsels within Shire’s mouth. The taste was incredibly fresh and appetizing.

Shire smacked his lips and proceeded along the river. Before long, he caught sight of a stone bridge.

Finally, there was a place to cross the river.

“Look, look, our feast is here.” Gradiu murmured.

Shire was unsure about what the devil was referring to. He walked towards the side of the stone bridge and caught a whiff of a repugnant odor. The stone bridge stretched across the river, appearing wide enough to accommodate two carriages side by side. The flag of the Gray Tree Hall Lord had been erected at both ends of the bridge, but with the passage of time, the flag had become tattered and lost its original color.

From the depths of the bridge, Shire heard the sound of water rippling, accompanied by movements beneath the water’s surface. Reacting swiftly, Shire stepped back and gripped his knife tightly.

A terrifying creature emerged before Shire.

The creature was covered in damp green scales and exuded a slimy substance. Its belly had a milky yellow hue, adorned with repulsive lumps. It possessed a vine-like appendage resembling a teapot. The creature had large hands and feet, with disproportionately long arms capable of reaching down to its feet. Webbing stretched between its fingers. It firmly grasped a large, wet wooden stick, exuding an air of strength. Compared to its two to three-meter-tall body, its hair was voluminous, and its exposed fangs added to its menacing appearance. Its turbid, fierce eyes and minuscule ears emphasized its intimidating presence. With only two seams remaining on its skull, its bald head continuously dripped with water.

Shire recognized the monster before him – a giant demon.

As far as Shire knew, giant demons possessed formidable survival capabilities. They could evolve and adapt to their surroundings. The River Giant Devil in front of him had developed webbed hands and feet to suit its river environment and regressed its ears. The Giant Snow Devil, on the other hand, was covered in fur. The Cave Giant Demon had enhanced hearing, and countless invincible subspecies existed.

Not only that, but giant demons were also highly intelligent beings.

“Bridge toll!” It used the wooden stick to strike the bridge beside it, producing a dull sound. “Pay the toll!” It extended its grotesque hand towards Shire.

“What do you want?” Shire asked.

“Kill it! Let me eat it! I’m so hungry, I want to eat the soul!” Gradiu was extremely anxious.

“I want gold, silver, copper coins—anything valuable. Glass, jewelry—I want it all… even food!” The River Giant Devil opened its mouth wide, and when it closed it, the sound resembled the grinding of stone against tree bark.

Several skulls were wrapped around its waist, some still bearing traces of uneaten dried meat.

“Did you kill someone?” Shire tightened his grip on his weapon.

“I killed the person who trespassed. Are you also here to trespass?” The River Giant Devil roared furiously. “Without paying the toll, no one shall pass!”

“I insist on crossing. If you try to stop me, I will kill you,” Shire threatened.

The River Giant Devil angrily struck the ground beside it with its stick. It ascended onto the stone bridge, gripping the stone with one hand and glaring at Shire with intense hatred.

“I want money! Hand over your money! Don’t even think about crossing!”

“Kill it, slice its skin, and extract the flesh within,” Gradiu whispered persistently. “Destroy it, assert your power over it, and make it a stepping stone to your own power and honor. You can do it, you can do it.”

Fury and a sense of bloodlust welled up in Shire’s heart, yet simultaneously, his heart quivered. He could see the beastly plot concealed within the eyes of the giant devil.