The 5th Hero is a Beast [Queer LitRPG Isekai]

Chapter 59: Red Ribbons



Finding Guillaume was not the problem.

The kjerrborn retraced their steps, careful to stay downwind as much as possible so that the gronfaine's smell would alert them. Amidst the scent of snowfalls and the cold were other strange smells. Beasts, a few humans.

They trudged almost halfway to the Staargraven pass before catching the beast's scent. It turned and meandered down a road.

Ah, to a town.

The hunter must have suffered in order to make it here in any amount of time. Endurance was one thing; running out of food, lacking adequate clothing, missing hir close range weapon, the spear…

Hallvar did not find traversing Brigavalé in winter as troubling as a human would, save for running headlong into low trees on their blind side or tangling their tusks in vines.

The akergryph had taken to her task of service beast readily, so Hallvar was already missing her peeping and chirping radar capacity.

She had great personality, certainly, but she was eager to please and took orders well. Maybe that was just because of Hallvar's beastmaster class, however.

Regardless, she was a good little pipsqueak.

They hoped Pipkin and Q were safe by the lake. While predators always existed no matter what country, it didn't seem like many things wanted to tangle with a kjerrborn.

Were they not native here? Did the bulk of such a beast deter conflict?

Hopefully the threat of "mama bear" would prevent any such predators from confronting the juvenile.

The sixty-day attunement timer ran out while the kjerrborn approached the town, but all Hallvar did was change forms.

Even a one-eyed fish hawk had more vision than an uninjured kjerrborn. They found a good perch on the chimney of a nearby house which radiated heat, fluffed up their feathers to conserve warmth, and waited for confirmation.

There. After a few hours of patience – broken up by hunting small rabbits hiding in the white snowbanks – the beasthunter appeared.

Ze was limping slightly, walking to the popular tavern and inn from the town. Hir shoulders were burdened with supplies – and a new spear.

Hallvar wanted to believe that ze gave up, that Guillaume passed through the Staargraven into Brigavalé, suffering under cold winter and mountainous trails, and decided enough was enough.

They could understand buying a new weapon, refilling hir stock of food, potions, and more. These were required items to survive traversing across Aestrux once more.

Then, they spotted the bear trap.

It inevitably had a different name, but it was a bear trap nonetheless.

It was no longer humanity versus primality that bound Hallvar's hands when it came to deciding what to do with Guillaume.

No, sixty days of being chased and hunted and outright tormented had cut through any sentiment that human meant kind and beast meant without morals.

Now Hallvar hesitated for one reason only: how to go about killing the beasthunter.

Seeing the patrons go in and out of the tavern as dusk fell, Hallvar had an idea.

They swooped to the cold ground, feeling their back contort and wings shrink into hands as the beastmaster became human for the first time in months.

Hallvar had plenty of time to crack their neck and settle into the weird feeling of being a bipedal ape. Their entire plan hinged on intentionally wasting time.

The beastmaster stole a horse blanket from the stables, huffing at the tethered gronfaine who let out a concerned noise. The huff was a kjerrborn threat, much less successful with a human nose.

The tavern was delightful in appearance, looking like it was stripped from a romantic fairy tale illustration in the white winter air. Candles and magical lamps lit the windows. The exterior walls were painted with colorful patterns, shapes of flora and fauna alike.

There was a low stone wall that delineated the road from the buildings, with a large boulder set off to the side.

The talons were surprisingly helpful to scale the boulder, where Hallvar found a comfortable spot to sit, using the blanket as insulation against the rock and to cover their bare feet and hands.

They were maybe human height off the ground. Five, six feet. Easily visible from both the road and the front door of the tavern.

A painted sign was visible now, an illustration of a mossy boulder with words in a language Hallvar couldn't parse. Perfect. The boulder was important.

While hunting for Guillaume, Hallvar thought a lot about what they should do and what others would do.

It was hard, because this was such a different world than their old one.

If someone was hunting… hunting… wow, they'd forgotten their own name. The loss should have felt more poignant than it was, yet Hallvar had more pressing issues than a dead name.

Regardless, if they were being hunted in their original world, they could go to the police, maybe get protective orders or even custody. It probably wouldn't work well, but it would be the only legal option.

Here, it was different. This wasn't a conflict between humans. It was the struggle of predator and prey.

What would the Court Mage do? Hallvar was less familiar with Anton than Viktor, but they presumed Anton would want to keep up appearances first and foremost. Pressuring the local Adventurer's Guild to put a leash on their beasthunter would probably be Anton's choice.

Then, Viktor? His answer was murder, but he would have done so months earlier. If now was the only choice, then… how? Sneak in the window? Wait until the hunter left for the day?

It was too cold, so there were no open windows. The tavern was busy, so Hallvar couldn't simply enter in their current state of being.

They were sparsely clothed in trousers and a long-sleeved tunic with some padding, but Hallvar had nothing else to their name. No shoes, no weapons, nothing that could help them get inside and kill.

That wasn't to mention the language barrier. Hallvar only heard a few whispers of the glottal language, mostly from passing patrons who gave the perched beasthunter a wide berth as they went about their business.

What of Rodu? Now that Hallvar was aware of the dragon's true nature, it was more difficult to see him as a harmless librarian. Hallvar felt that the necromancer would attempt discussion first, but perhaps not in a situation where someone was actively hunting him.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

It was hard. Hallvar didn't know Rodu that well. They knew Rubert.

Who else?

Kiran. She might beat the shit out of Guillaume, human to human, but Hallvar found it difficult to see her murdering someone in cold blood. She had principles and she was retired. In a battle, in a war, to defend others? Yes. But not hunting them down.

Grim, Ikraam, and the others. They fell along the same lines as Kiran. Capable of defending themselves, perhaps not murderers.

And finally, Stella.

Hallvar felt a twinge in their chest when they considered Stella's response. It was confusing, as they didn't know what she could do in combat or what her response to violence was.

She was an adventurer, so she had to fight and survive. It was just… difficult to reconcile Hallvar's image of the calm, quiet woman with someone who would kill.

Maybe they were just naive.

Stella was very practical and she seemed to understand that as a beast Hallvar didn't have absolute control of their actions and impulses. That was clear by her understanding of Hallvar's odd fish obsession after taking on the fish hawk form.

(An obsession that would only get worse, Hallvar realized as they thought of the kjerrborn.)

And Stella thrived under Viktor's leadership. Despite of it, even.

If she could tolerate him, she could tolerate Hallvar killing to save their own life. Right?

And, in retrospect, Anton and Rodu would simply opt for killing as the second plan, not the first. They were not averse to bloodshed.

Hallvar watched patiently as their odd presence began to cause problems. The same people began peering through the window to look at the beastmaster, over and over. Less people left the tavern, though many were still inside.

Their hair continued to grow while they were a kjerrborn; they could feel it touching their shoulders now, which was absolutely not the length they expected after simply two months.

Wavy and red, just like their new beard.

Hallvar didn't have the energy to contemplate a beard. They were a girl who turned into a guy who was actually vode.

They weren't ready to lose a finger. They weren't ready to lose an eye. They weren't ready to grow a fucking beard!

They were seething and projecting plenty of rage onto the stupidest of things. The more time passed, the angrier Hallvar became. It was keeping them warm, which was absolutely necessary in this snowy weather.

Once they scratched the back of their neck, the hair situation became obvious. Ah, just like the talons, there was a price to be paid for choosing certain beasts.

Hallvar could feel a stripe of bristly hair run down from the nape of their neck down their spine, much farther down than the hero could reach. They couldn't fit their hand under their shirt to check on any other bodily hair, as the stupid shirt was way too tight, feeling like it was strangling them.

Right. Bear. Hairier, weight gain, probably muscle too.

This might as well happen. Maybe Stella would find it hot.

Did she like scars?

Carefully, Hallvar extended a finger to touch where their eye once was. They had a hint of what it would feel like, but no clear visual understanding.

The eyelid itself had been fused together by magic, healed into an indent of skin where the eye socket was left empty.

A raised welt of a scar ran from their upper lip parallel to their nose, where it cut across their brow and turned sharply to slice at a diagonal, ending on their cheekbone near their ear.

Must be from breaking the spear. In hindsight, it was a terrible decision.

Hallvar skipped past the question of the healing magic. It was a mystery they couldn't handle at the moment. Magical deer that had a deer society in the woods.

No, no, thank you. Hallvar had revenge to plan.

See, Hallvar didn't want to do this Viktor's way. Or Anton's way. If anything, Hallvar's naive perception of Rodu and Stella might be most akin to their plans.

The tavern door opened, and a petite young girl stepped outside. She was wearing a frilly dress, a nice one that seemed odd to wear to a tavern.

Hallvar had to move their head to follow her with their single eye as she approached the boulder.

Now, the beastmaster was curious.

The girl stood on her toes and stretched as far as she could, sliding a wooden tray onto the flat top of the boulder where Hallvar was sitting.

She spoke, but the words were in another language. Something something something. A bow at the waist. Berggeist.

Huh.

Well, at least the words were in a language and not simply static noises.

They watched the girl go back inside, amused by the litany of faces that peeked around window sills to assess Hallvar's reaction.

The tray held a cup of… milk? A bowl of honey, and a loaf of bread.

Strange thing to bring to a stranger stalking someone on your doorstep, but Hallvar would happily accept the offering. They ate gleefully, content to have something slightly cooked for once.

Hallvar was in the middle of clearing out their system notifications when the next human approached them.

The human began asking questions judging by the tone of their voice but using a variety of different languages. None of them were familiar to Hallvar.

"Bring out the beasthunter Guillaume," the hero replied in a near rasp. Their throat felt odd from lack of use, their tongue tied in strange ways.

The human went inside; another returned and was given the same message.

The food almost made Hallvar cheerful, even with the cold and the snow settling around them.

The kjerrborn form as a defensive form had many benefits.

Their strength was increased by 10%, though a note from the system said this augmentation was altered from the intended endurance increase due to their high endurance attribute.

Fine, Hallvar would take it. Their strength was low and definitely needed to be fixed. Apparently Hallvar did not earn attribute increases while they were in any beast form.

They gained resistance to cold, which was incredibly beneficial in this moment, and gained resistance to magic in general. Hallvar wondered if this would affect healing potions, or if resistance implied direct combat.

They were reading over a new active skill when the tavern door opened to reveal Guillaume.

The mood shifted instantly.

Where Hallvar had been practically kicking their feet in glee at food and the slightest of human comforts, now they gazed coldly at the approaching beasthunter.

"Greetings, respected berggeist. I do not know what you wish of me, however–"

Hallvar dropped down from the rock, practically snarling at the blonde hunter. "Shut up, Guillaume. Don't you recognize me?"

The beasthunter stepped back, carefully looking over the alleged berggeist. There was nothing in the berggeist's features that struck a familiar chord. A shaggy haired, large man, with a long beard. Red-haired and clawed. Sparsely clothed.

It was identical to the Brigavaléin illustrations of a berggeist the innkeeper found in their book, although that was a being of folklore. The locals were convinced this was a mountain spirit, whereas Guillaume was uncertain.

Ze only knew that it stood, talked, and ate like a human. And that it knew hir name.

The lack of an answer was the answer.

It pissed Hallvar off.

They growled – not just a throaty sound of indignation, but a full beast-like growl – and lunged for the beasthunter.

Hallvar grabbed the front of hir jacket as Guillaume reached for a dagger. The point pressed into Hallvar's side just as they wrapped their talons around the hunter's neck.

A bleed counter popped up in the system.

"Let me go," the hunter insisted, still calm in hir actions.

This was why ze was a successful hunter. Ze was hard to break.

But Hallvar would.

"No. Stab me, Guillaume." Hallvar hissed. "I can take it. I was stabbed hundreds of times with the guildmaster, when Viktor trained me for close combat."

The beasthunter was momentarily stunned, thrown off by this knowledge coming from a berggeist.

"You've met me, Guillaume. You know me. The hero Hallvar, remember?"

A flicker of recognition in hir eyes.

"Yes, you know me. You've been chasing me across the fucking continent for months. I had two eyes when we last spoke, Guillaume."

Hallvar growled again, fighting the urge to rip out hir throat in order to give decency one last chance. One last opportunity for the beasthunter to do the right thing.

They used their height and weight to force Guillaume down, throwing off the beasthunter's balance until ze was on a knee, fighting to get loose.

Hallvar didn't have this much strength. This was pure adrenaline and rage augmenting their attributes somehow.

Guillaume was exhausted, seeking out a quiet night in a real bed before continuing hir hunt.

"The guildmaster did not teach me any sentimentality for forgiveness and second chances, yet I'm giving you one. Stop chasing me. Leave my family alone."

Again, Hallvar pressed forward. Guillaume was now on hir knees, leaning backward uncomfortably, suspended by the hero's hand on hir neck. The dagger was on the ground, having been abandoned to try and keep from tumbling backward.

In a low whisper, Hallvar continued, dead-eyed and cruel.

"The moment you step off of that road and begin following my trail, I will decorate the forest with your intestines, just like red ribbons swaying in the branches. Do you fucking understand me?"

The beasthunter nodded, trying to loosen Hallvar's grip with a barely heard, "Let me go."

The hero didn't wait for another response. They said their piece.

Instead they changed shape, crunching and fluttering into the fish hawk form, leaving Guillaume lost for words in the snow.

Their threat was not empty; they did not go back to Queenie and Pipkin, instead making a wide circle to sit on another chimney.

They peered from across a great distance at the tavern door, able to make out individuals with their fish hawk vision.

They would know when Guillaume left.

They would know if ze strayed from the road.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.