A Witch That Is Good at Hunting

Chapter 48: City of Fanatics (9)

'This wasn’t what I expected at all...'

Vigo had figured on at least ten years. Time for Nike to grow enough, settle into the role of hunter, then truly start making a mark.

What Nike just pulled off was nowhere in his calculations. He blew an entire count’s castle off the map and, in a blink, brought them right to the enemy’s doorstep.

It was the sort of achievement you’d only manage after dozens of hunters spent months in deep cover gathering intel and drafting a meticulous plan.

This was the heart of the Golden Dawn’s Third Order, not some random bandit den, mercenary camp, or a mere subordinate branch.

Nike had smashed that iron fortress in a single instant, and he’d done it alone.

'There’s no easy way to explain this.'

To hunters who had ground their teeth through decades of brutal struggle, it would almost feel deflating.

This was magic, the power of a transcendent, a being who tramples natural law.

And now that wildly unreasonable power belonged to an ally, he couldn’t imagine anything more reassuring.

'We just started, and we’re a breath away from toppling one of the fanatics’ pillars.'

What an astonishing contribution.

Steadying the tremor in his jaw, Vigo smiled toward Nike.

Nike flashed a grin, satisfied with his own work. At last, he’d scored something real in Banyaksenir. Vigo’s smile was all the proof he needed.

'Even if he’s sloppy most days, at the crucial moment his mana control is unbelievable...'

In Morgana’s magic lessons he was a mess, and his growth had been sluggish.

But in a real fight, Nike showed skill that outstripped Morgana.

'Was he tricking us on purpose?'

Nike’s insides were hard to read. For all the back and forth, the witch’s vicious nature showed through him unfiltered. In some ways it was chilling.

Rumble—

While Vigo quietly marveled at Nike’s ability, multiple sets of footsteps started sounding from above.

"Find them, fast!"

"At least recover the bodies!"

"Move!"

Like true fanatics, they were forcing their way through even the glass flame to carry out orders. They were people who had already offered their lives to the witch, so they had no fear and nothing to regret.

All three stayed hidden in the rubble, out of sight. The sounds were getting closer. It was time to move.

Rowen turned her head, scanning around. The floor was damp here and there.

"Looks like the underpass connects from inside the castle. If we take this route, we won’t need to go all the way downriver."

"Seems so."

Whoosh.

Right on cue, a wind that felt like a war omen blew out of the dark hole to the underpass.

It carried a stench of filth and beast musk, the reek of all kinds of refuse. Vigo and Rowen screwed up their faces, but Nike reacted differently.

'...This doesn’t feel good.'

Nike’s senses were far keener than an ordinary man’s. With his demonic eye flared open like now, he outstripped most beasts as well.

Which meant that, effectively, Nike wasn’t even in the same world as them at the moment.

The stench from the underpass wasn’t just a mix of feces and sludge to Nike. It was a trove of data.

Beasts and monsters dwelling down there, what kinds and how many, how many branching tunnels and exits, even human scent. The instant he breathed it in, Nike felt every danger lurking beneath the underpass.

He couldn’t sort everything as clearly as sight, but he could at least pinpoint locations.

"Nike. What’s the matter?"

Vigo asked when Nike just stared into the hole without speaking. Nike’s face had gone unusually serious, a side of him the other two rarely saw.

"I smell dangerous meat."

"Is it that woman’s?"

He nodded.

"The woman. Monsters. Blood. And…"

"And?"

"Something very dangerous."

Nike narrowed his eyes, staring down the water-veined tunnel. He was on edge about something, seriously so.

'Nike is this tense, even without seeing it?'

Vigo and Rowen had never seen him like this.

"Dangerous."

"This is the first time I’ve seen him growl without an enemy being in his face."

"...What on earth is down there?"

Not even when Vigo tried to kill him had he been this cowed. Looking back on that, whatever waited in the dark would be a serious threat.

"There’s a witch."

"A witch?"

"What are you saying, a witch? There’s a witch?"

"I can feel it. Meat that’s very strong."

Nike’s wide eyes had already become red. The hairs on his forearms stood straight up.

He hadn’t reacted like this even when he’d faced Morgana or Sestria.

This time, something on a different level was waiting.

Rowen swallowed, hardly breathing. Vigo raked a hand through his hair and exhaled.

"This won’t be easy huh."

"Seems… that way."

"What are these deranged cultists hiding?"

Vigo clapped Rowen on the shoulder, asking if she’d be okay.  

"Of course."

Her reply was crisp. Her hands trembled with fear, but she had no intention of stepping back.

Even if the end of this path was ruin, hunters pressed on.

"As expected. Nike, cough it up."

"Hah?"

"The tools."

"Oh!"

At Vigo’s prompt, Nike shoved his fingers down his throat.

Blegh-!

Out popped a row of small glass vials.

"Eww…"

"Not much for the eyes, is it."

They couldn’t smuggle in big weapons, but tiny vials could be stashed in Nike’s stomach.

He’d said he could do it, and they’d trusted him with it. He hadn’t been bluffing.

"Good job. You could make a handy stand-in for pockets now and then."

"Uuugh… I don’t like it."

Nike looked queasy. The other two wiped off the stomach acid and pocketed the vials.

Preparations were complete.

"Think you can track them?"

"Of course!"

"Good. Let’s go."

Veins sang with excitement, and a beastlike breath slipped out.

Thump.

The hound ran.

Now the hunt really began.

"Hunt—!"

Like a racehorse in full sprint, Nike tore forward without a pause. Even for seasoned fighters like Vigo and Rowen, his speed was hard to match.

The pace corrected itself on its own. Monsters started appearing one after another to bar their way.

"It’s absurd that so many monsters are living under a human city."

"They’re just low ranks, but compared to how clean the city looks, this number is not normal."

Rowen gritted through the ache in her leg and kept running.

This wasn’t ordinary. Monsters infesting the underside of a human city didn’t make any sense at all.

It meant a witch was living in the city, or someone had created perfect breeding conditions for monsters.

The surface and the underground were locked in a grotesque contrast, a bizarre coexistence.

"With this many monsters, the surface should already be a demon den. And yet… they aren’t going up. How can this be?"

“I’m not sure. It’s also my first time seeing something like this.”

With this many monsters down under the city, the surface should’ve turned into their den as well. But they only stayed underground.

“It seems like someone is controlling these demons. As expected, there seems to be a witch.”

A little farther and a vast chamber opened. It looked like remnants of an ancient ruin that didn’t belong down here.

Five massive tunnels fed into the chamber, the city’s water gathering and pouring along the biggest channel.

And then…

The ceiling.

Twisted red cords, like spider silk, wound across the chamber’s roof. They looked like umbilical cords, and clinging to them were hundreds, thousands of eggs wrapped in fleshy membranes.

* * *

Rowen clapped a hand over her mouth. She gagged. Disgust didn’t begin to cover it.

"What… is that?"

"Eggs! The monsters laid a clutch!"

"…"

Nike gestured up at the eggs.

Both Rowen and Vigo scowled and studied the membrane-sheathed mass stuck to the ceiling.

"What even is that?"

Even Vigo had never seen a monster ecology like this.

"Nike. You’re sure those are monster eggs? You can tell?"

"They are."

Rowen asked, and Nike answered flatly.

Every last red globe plastered across the ceiling was a monster egg.

Rowen examined the slick membrane that ran down the wall.

"I’ve never heard of monsters breeding like this…"

"Looks like someone raised them on purpose. They are artificial."

Squelch.

Vigo dabbed the slime with a fingertip and tasted it.

"Master!?"

"Hm. That’s the taste of monster fat and blood. They are very— disgusting."

"Meat?"

"Master, how do you even know what a monster tastes like…?"

Rowen’s pupils shook wide. Vigo answered like it was nothing.

"I spent months lost in a demon realm once. Not a lot of decent things to eat there. Rowen, if you ever go through that, make sure you cook monster meat all the way through."

Rowen squeezed her eyes shut. A war story worthy of a master who’d seen everything.

"Ugh. I’d rather not go through that."

"Today might be the perfect chance, you know?"

"Don’t say weird things like that…!"

Chuckling, Vigo swept the chamber with his gaze again. He stepped around patches of slime and clicked his tongue.

"Hmm… So they’re farming monsters. I’ve heard of witches shaping an environment, but producing them at this scale? That’s a first."

"Think it’s the Golden Dawn’s doing after all?"

"Most likely."

Rowen worked it through fast.

A witch wouldn’t bother breeding low-rank monsters. Maybe a chimera yard for fusing strong specimens, sure.

This sort of grotesque project, though, only the Golden Dawn would do.

And among them, a radical Third Order cell could easily be behind it.

'Whatever the method is…'

They’d have no trouble running a factory army of monsters.

Crrrack.

The eggs began to twitch.

Membranes split and their contents poured from the ceiling.

Even as that bizarre sight unfolded, the three of them weren’t looking up.

Far across the chamber.

The target Nike had tracked was standing there with a playful smile.

The Seventh Seat of the Golden Dawn’s Third Order.

Magis waved her hand with a dainty flourish.

"You arrived… earlier than I expected."

"Prey!"

"How did you even find your way here?"

She was smiling, but there was obvious displeasure in it.

"Was it you who blew up the castle?"

"I did!"

"Liar."

"Hah? It’s true!"

Magis pinched her brow and rubbed her temple. Whatever it was, something about this irked her deeply.

Nike’s gambit had worked.

"The banquet isn’t ready yet… Coming this early is a problem. Especially without my permission."

"Cut the word games."

Vigo stepped forward, unable to listen any longer.

"Ahaha. Word games? Welcoming guests with my whole heart is proper noble etiquette. Do none of you know your manners?"

Her tone rose, anger twisting her lovely face.

"Tch. You truly are insane."

"I’ll take that as a compliment."

"I’m into insane women."

"And I prefer younger men."

"…"

Vigo let his killing intent seep out, face blank. Sensing it, Magis gave an elegant little smile.

"Sadly, preparations aren’t complete, so please enjoy an appetizer here. When the time comes, I’ll invite you inside."

"Hold it!"

She pinched the edge of her antique skirt and curtsied.

Magis spun lightly to turn away, and as Vigo lunged to pursue, every membrane on the ceiling split and monsters thudded to the floor.

Thud, thud!

Thud thud thud thud!

There were easily several hundred.

Grrrrr.

Kiiieee!

And it didn’t stop there.

Blood congealed on the webwork like spider silk, then bulged again into egg shapes, and small-bodied monsters took form inside.

In an instant, more monsters were born.

"Holy…"

Rowen was aghast. Calling it a monster factory would be an understatement.

If they could mass produce monsters at that speed, the carnage would be obvious.

They had to wipe everything out now.

"Nike! Get ready for battle!"

"Got it!"

"No, wait—"

Rowen drew knives and steeled herself, but Vigo raised a hand to bar her way.

"Leave this part to Nike. We’re chasing the woman."

"What?"

"No time to explain. Follow my orders!"

Vigo’s barked command.

Understanding him at once, Nike dropped into a crouch, all bravado. His hair fluffed up like an excited beast.

Kraaaang!

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait for another word. He hurled himself into the onrushing tide of monsters.

Crunch, crunch, crack!

"Gyaa!"

Blood burst, flesh sprayed, and hellish shrieks wove a grisly chorus. In the middle of hell, a gray blur danced a violent dance.

"Let’s move."

"…"

Rowen kept looking back at Nike, and Vigo snapped his head around, snarling.

"He’s a hound we raised to bleed in our place. Don’t you dare let him hobble you! He’ll come back on his own!"

"S-Still…"

"You get attached too easily."

"…Ah!"

Vigo slung Rowen, bad leg and all, onto his back and sprinted with everything he had.

"Stay cold, Rowen. Hunters with hot blood die young."

"…Got it."

Crunch!

Kieeeek!

'Nike…'

Hell receded behind them.

Clinging to Vigo, Rowen watched Nike carve a path through the swarm.

"Ryaaaaaa!"

Like a berserker, Nike fought on, drenched in gore. Even as he disappeared into the distance, blood and flesh flew.

Nike really was a hound.