The Hunter of Hawk and Wolf

When Sevha and Edgar arrived in the town square, Elise, her handmaidens, and Marina were handing out bread.

As soon as Elise saw Edgar, she hurried over and offered him a piece.

“Edgar. I made this bread. Try some.”

“You did? It’s a shame I can only have one.”

Elise chuckled, and he laughed with her.

Sevha watched the affectionate display between them, feeling more at ease than usual.

A moment later, Edgar broke off a small piece of the bread and handed it to Sevha.

“You have some, too.”

While Sevha ate the small piece, Edgar finished his own.

He smiled brightly at Elise. “It's delicious.”

“Really? I'm so glad.” Elise beamed at his praise.

Watching them, Sevha was once again struck by that familiar mixture of suffocation and relief.

Marina, seeing his expression, immediately grabbed Sevha’s arm.

“Master Sevha. Would you like to help me hand out bread?”

“Huh? That sounds like a pain...”

“I'm honored that you've agreed to come.”

Marina ignored him completely and led him away.

Seeing he had no choice, Sevha shook his head and followed.

The two of them gave a single piece of bread to each of the townspeople and the Hunters on the walls.

No one complained about the small portion; they all ate with smiles on their faces.

They were Sevha and Marina’s comrades, their friends, their family—even if not by blood.

Just seeing them smile was enough to make Sevha and Marina feel full and content.

And so, without another word, they emptied the basket, not even saving a piece for themselves.

After the basket was empty, they made their way to the top of the castle bastion.

Standing with Sevha on the empty rampart, Marina finally spoke.

“You had a strange look on your face earlier, watching the Count and Elise. Is something wrong?”

“What look?”

“You looked as if you were both regretful and relieved.”

At her observation, Sevha decided to voice the feelings he’d been wrestling with since he heard Elise was to be married.

“Ever since I heard that Eli... that she was getting married, I've felt suffocated and anxious.”

Marina’s expression immediately froze.

“That's...”

Just as she was about to say something, Sevha let out a deep sigh and continued.

“But... even so, seeing her working so hard for Anse, for my brother... it eased my mind.”

When Sevha finished, Marina paused. The tension in her face gave way to a soft, relieved expression.

Then she began to tease him.

“Is it because you've only ever been a Hunter? Or because you admire the Count so much? You’re still such a child.”

“You're the same age as me.”

“But I'm more of an adult than you are.”

Marina gazed steadily at Sevha, her cheeks flushing slightly. She smiled, as if cherishing the warmth of the moment.

“Because I know something you don't.”

Seeing Marina’s flushed cheeks and her deep gaze, Sevha found himself holding his breath. In that moment, she no longer looked like a sister or a comrade, but like a woman he was seeing for the very first time.

Flustered by this unfamiliar side of her, Sevha fell silent. Marina giggled and hugged his arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Something an adult does. You wouldn't understand.”

As Marina mocked him again, he gave up and changed the subject.

“My brother said you become an adult through loss.”

“That’s such a sad way of looking at it. So sad I don’t want to believe it.”

“Then what do you think makes someone an adult?”

Marina rested her head on Sevha’s arm, answering, “I think you become an adult when you find something you would die to protect.”

Sevha mulled over her words, then asked, “Have you found something like that?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Not 'what.' 'Who.'”

“Who... is it?”

Marina looked at him with that same deep gaze from before.

An enemy siege, a blizzard raging on the bastion, and the two of them pressed close together.

It was not a romantic setting, but it was warm. It was a warmth that made them forget the cold, and they watched the snowfall in silence, aware only of each other’s presence.

When the warmth of the other began to feel like his own, Marina began to answer.

“The person I would die to protect is...”

However...

“Sev... ha?”

Marina couldn't finish her sentence.

“Blood...”

Her eyes, fixed on Sevha, widened in shock.

Sevha touched his own face.

Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth.

The moment he realized something was wrong, his vision blurred.

And then…

“GAAAH...!”

Suddenly, a chorus of groans erupted from the castle walls and the town below.

Sevha and Marina looked out along the ramparts to see every Hunter collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain.

As the two rushed over, some of the Hunters began to vomit blood.

Sickness, a curse—Sevha's mind raced through every possible cause, until his eyes fell on a half-eaten piece of bread on the ground.

“Marina... did you eat the bread?”

“N-no. I... ah.”

The only ones still standing on the wall were Marina, who hadn’t eaten any, and Sevha, who had eaten only a little.

Just as the meaning of the situation dawned on them, flames shot up from all over the town below.

“Sevha. We've been betrayed,” Marina said in realization.

Sevha could not bring himself to name the traitor.

So Marina answered for him.

“Elise Schreier betrayed us!”

As if to confirm her accusation, Elise’s soldiers, swords drawn, came running from the town toward the main gate.

“Open the gate!”

Realizing their objective, Sevha muttered blankly, “N-No... It can't be... Why would Eli...”

“Sevha! That bitch doesn't matter right now!”

Immediately after Marina's shout, the sound of countless feet crunching through snow rose from beyond the castle walls.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The snowfall obscured the view, but the Imperial Army was advancing.

The Hunters meant to defend the walls were incapacitated by the poison.

Sevha frantically shook himself from his stupor and cried out, “Marina! We can't let them open the gate!”

But the shout was too much for his weakened body; he vomited blood the moment the words left his mouth.

“Sevha!”

“We have to... stop them.”

Sevha pushed the worried Marina away and scooped up a fallen Hunter’s bow.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, focusing his mind before loosing an arrow that struck a soldier in the neck.

He yelled, “Marina!”

She grit her teeth and followed his lead, firing arrows at the soldiers.

The soldiers were startled by the volley, but their leader immediately shouted, “They're all poisoned anyway! Push through!”

The soldiers trampled over their fallen comrades, charging for the gate.

As they drew closer, Sevha was the first to drop his bow and run down toward them, with Marina right behind him.

“Sevha... can the two of us hold them?”

“I don't know. But we have to.”

The two drew their knives and blocked the soldiers’ path.

They were outnumbered and out-equipped.

The soldiers charged without hesitation.

“Kill them!”

Sevha dodged a sword thrust and slipped to the soldier’s side, carving into the man’s neck with his knife.

As another soldier tried to attack Sevha from behind, Marina drove her knife into his side, bringing him to the ground.

When yet another soldier brought his sword down toward Marina’s back, she rolled clear.

Just as the soldier's sword struck the ground, Sevha slashed his ankle.

The soldier fell backward, and Marina plunged her knife into his face.

The soldiers faltered, shocked that their comrades were being cut down by just two people.

But Sevha and Marina could not afford to feel relieved.

They were not invincible warriors, but Hunters.

There were limits to how long they could last in a direct confrontation.

I'm just forcing it.

Just as Sevha thought he couldn't hold on much longer, his vision blurred again. He vomited more blood and staggered.

“Sevha!” Marina cried out, catching him.

Seeing their chance, the soldiers’ courage returned.

“Look, he's succumbing to the poison!”

“Open the gate, no matter what! If we fail, the Marquis will kill us anyway!”

At the soldier's words, Sevha shoved Marina away, his eyes flying open.

“Marquis Schreier... Wasn't he executed?”

The soldiers flinched at Sevha's menacing glare.

But it was only for a moment; with a yell, they charged again.

Sevha and Marina fought back in concert as they had before.

But Marina was exhausted, and the poison was taking an even heavier toll on Sevha.

The longer they fought, the more they were pushed back toward the gate.

Then, one of the soldiers shouted, “I see the mechanism! Open it!”

Immediately, three soldiers broke off, ignoring Sevha and Marina to run for the gate.

Sevha whirled toward them.

Just then, a soldier swung at Sevha’s back, but Marina intercepted the blow, screaming his name.

“Sevha!”

He lunged after the soldiers who had passed him.

He slashed the ankle of the rearmost man, felling him.

Running with all his might, he drove his knife into the next soldier’s side.

With the last of his strength, he reached the final man and plunged his knife into his neck just as he grabbed the lever.

Thud.

The soldier collapsed, vomiting blood.

“No...”

The lever had already been pulled down.

Krrrrrrk.

The grinding sound of the gate opening filled the air, and a blast of snow hit Sevha in the face.

Beyond the open gate, through the blizzard, the war cries of the Imperial Army echoed as their forces swarmed forward.

A horn blast sounded, followed by a volley of arrows from outside the gate that filled Sevha’s entire field of vision.

As the storm of arrows swept past, he heard a choked whisper.

“Sevha... run.”

He looked up to see Marina standing before him, her body pierced with arrows.

***

Within the Labyrinth Forest near Anse Castle, a woman stood watching. The hood of her robe shadowed her face.

It was Teresse.

The Imperial Army was pouring into the burning castle, their triumphant shouts echoing in the air.

Teresse watched the scene for a moment. A winter wind blew, and as her hood shifted, the lower half of her face was revealed.

The bandages were gone.

Her red lips, like sweet but poisonous fruit, were curved in a smile of anticipation.

She spoke, her voice a low whisper.

“Didn't I tell you, Hunter? Magic exists.”

Teresse gazed at the burning castle and the sky stained red.

“A spell woven by one man, twisted and recited by one woman, and the hawks shall fall. Another woman adds a verse that was never there, and one fallen hawk, taking the others as sacrifice...”

Then, thinking of a certain Hunter under that red sky, she finished the prophecy.

“...shall take wing and shake the very foundations of the age.”