Chapter 8

8

Sheffield

There was something wrong with this… Klaus Tennstedt.

Laurence Miles watched as the man sheathed the simple steel sword at his side, staring blankly at all of the monsters he had slain. Wearing a hood over his head, the man silently marched back towards the caravan his sword was still covered in the blood of monsters that he had just slaughtered.

The caravan had been menaced by several monsters which included an Ogre and a Wurm but even that had not mattered to the guard that Laurence had hired. He had slain them all with that simple steel blade of his. Laurence never asked about what his guards did in their past lives but he had no doubt that the man he had hired on as a guard was something else entirely if he could take on an Ogre and a Wurm all by himself.

A murderer most likely. On the run from the Order… The portly merchant gulped as the man's horrible eyes turned to him. "Mister Miles." He said softly. "Are you hurt?"

Laurence cleared his throat. "Um… No." The merchant answered the question. "No… I'm fine. You saw off all those mamono sharpish eh? I thank you for that."

Klaus Tennstedt turned back to the remains of his work. "Aye, I did." He said softly. "Shall we get going?"

Laurence agreed to that wholeheartedly and the caravan got moving again. They were headed to more neutral territories since the Order put a lot of tariffs on goods, suspicion of monster activity was at an all time high in Order territories especially with Lescatie falling and becoming a Demon Realm. His current destination, the small city-state of Sheffield, was neutral in regards to relations between man and monster; i.e. if Order fanatics and Monster girls were clashing in the area then the military would step in. It was a remarkably stable region, and its people were like all of the ordinary folk in the world who were trying to make a living in this strange world of theirs. Monster fanatics and Order zealots were already enough of a problem.

Maybe that was why Klaus Tennstedt had come along… Maybe he was sick and tired of the Order AND the Monsters murdering each other and whatever place he had come from was just one more battlefield that the Order marched into. Laurence wasn't an adherent to the Chief God but Klaus probably used to be one.

He had asked Klaus if he was a believer in the Chief God. The man had said no. The fury in his eyes had told Laurence that the subject was best left unspoken.

Laurence looked over his shoulder at the young man who was sitting in the back of his wagon, polishing his sword. Laurence knew he was armed with other weapons, he had caught a glimpse of a greatsword on his back, but he thought it best not to ask about them. Klaus was a very private person it seemed but at least he was polite.

Furthermore, Laurence had a vested interest in keeping his head on his shoulders. Master Klaus was very skilled with handling very sharp objects and the merchant thought it best to stay on the young mercenary's good side.

Cyril removed his hood and let out a tired sigh.

He was on first watch tonight and the caravan had stopped near a creek. The fires were burning low but for now this region was safe it seemed. They had been spotted by a roving band of Centaurs who demanded what they were doing here. Cyril, acting as "Klaus Tennstedt", had been ready to fight but Master Laurence had managed to calm down the situation.

Cyril was thankful for that. He could have killed every guard in this caravan with his bare hands. The Centaurs had seemed to accept their reasoning for now and had let them go. The Good Hunter let out an annoyed exhale. Why weren't all monsters that reasonable?

Even Harpies, who were generally pleasant in demeanor, had a mating season and even now he warily looked up at the skies in case some of them were nocturnal. He looked back at his belongings. The Holy Moonlight Sword was bandaged up, dim but sharp as ever. His Saw Cleaver and pistol were in his worn rucksack. It was best to keep them hidden, for who knows how far the legend of the Moon Scented Hunter had spread? Cyril looked at the caravan guards. Which one would have recognized the name Cyril Sutherland if he had deigned to introduce himself as such?

The weight of the simple steel sword he wore on his belt was… uncomfortably familiar. He had been a soldier once… and that was as far as he remembered. He found it odd that he was thinking so much about the past. Perhaps it was the Waking World getting to him. It wasn't like him to be so focused on his past.

Cyril continued on his patrol, keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. Unfortunately, Oppenheimer was not a good port. No ships were leaving for Zipangu but a merchant captain had wondered why he had journeyed south, when he really should have been heading to the eastern regions of the continent away from the Order. The fastest way there seemed to be through Sheffield, a city-state with connections to the port cities of the League of Oberon, named after a powerful warlord who owed no allegiance to man or monster. The merchant captain had referred him to Laurence Miles, the merchant he was currently guarding. And things went right from there…

He had a destination at least. That was what mattered…

If Cyril was honest with himself, he felt glad to be on the road again. The mess he had left behind in Lescatie was behind him, that was what he felt right now. It was honestly… liberating being on the road.

They arrived at a small town the next day, finally in the borders of Sheffield. Marienburg was its name. Laurence let out a relieved sigh as the gates closed behind his caravan. He had some work to do here before they were headed out to Sheffield. Grinning, the merchant told Cyril that he had some free time to do what he had wanted to in the town. The other guards were obviously appreciative of that fact, even if it was only for a few days.

Cyril decided to roll with whatever was happening. It was a good time to… unwind and relax. It was shocking that he had thoughts like this. He was a Hunter, and here he was trying to figure out what he was going to do with his time. All he had done, during that fateful night, was sharpen his weapons and get ready for the next fight where everything blurred together in a medley of blood and insanity and pain.

It… he felt relieved… but at the same time…

The Good Hunter let out a breath. Fear wasn't something he admitted easily at first. But he was afraid, truly, that this calm feeling he was feeling right now was not going to last long. That he was just waiting for the next plunge into bloodshed.

Already, Cyril realized with dread, he still felt the blood of countless slain on his hands.

Cyril had to admit that neutral territories were a lot different from those monster friendly states and those who belonged to the Order. It was… horrifying at first to see monsters moving about so openly but he was getting used to it. He glanced idly at a Holstaur who was advertising milk with her husband, a Lamia herald who was using her serpentine trunk as an impromptu stand so everyone could see and hear her. There was even a Gyoubu Danuki, a species of monster from Zipangu. Her golden eyes hidden under the brim of her straw hat, Cyril felt her eyeing him from time to time. That caused him to narrow his eyes and keep moving, drawing his hood up further.

That was concerning. Danuki were masterful merchants, and they get whatever they want through guile and subterfuge. While Lescatie was the worst experience he had been through that did not mean that he had gone soft. Guile was just as much as a weapon as a blade was.

He caught sight of a Harpy, directing a pair of men who carried her palanquin down the road. She winked at him but didn't jump at the chance to bed him right then and there. Cyril had let go of the hilt of his sword the moment the palanquin passed him by. Now this was just ridiculous, was he already being made by the monsters back in Lescatie?

The disguised Hunter moved through the market, checking things out while watching his back. A shoulder guard of steel interested him. Briefly, he considered adding it to his Hunter's Attire. As he hefted it, Cyril got another uncomfortable feeling of getting watched and sighed in frustration.

"Hey, you interested in that armor, stranger?"

Cyril turned around to look into the single largest eye he had seen. One on the pretty face of a Cyclops, the owner of the market stand. Honestly surprised that he didn't do something so rash as draw a weapon in the middle of a busy market street, Cyril turned back to the piece of armor. "I am… but if the price is too high to pay then I suppose not."

The Cyclops smirked. "Thomasin, at your service."

"Klaus Tennstedt." Cyril introduced himself with his fake name. "How much?"

"A night or two…" Thomasin said with a straight face that evaporated into laughter. "Just kidding, I'm not like those extremists who try to fuck every penis they see. No… My ma and pa taught me better than that." She looked at the armor piece. "Hmm… I'd say a hundred because you've been so polite."

Cyril shrugged. A reasonable price as he reached into his pocket for the required coin.

"And… I could repair that blade of yours too for that much." Thomasin said as she glanced at the sword at Cyril's side.

Cyril blinked, surprised. "Are you sure?" He asked.

"Hey, in Sheffield territory we're all neighborly. Especially in our little Marienburg here. We don't let monsters just run off with men that they like because they want to, that's just bad form. You can get flogged for that." Thomasin answered. "The new ruler of the city-state made that clear when she took over and she's a monster. Funny how things work huh? She wanted to change the way things are being done around here."

Cyril had nothing to say about that. "If only all of the kingdoms in this blasted land were Sheffields," He spoke idly.

Thomasin laughed as she accepted Cyril's steel sword. "If only indeed, then we wouldn't have wars with the Order or loonies like the extremist factions like in Lescatie."

The Hunter nodded in agreement, and his hood made it difficult for Thomasin to see the cold expression on his face. The Cyclops got to work on repairing the Hunter's blade while he waited at the market stall. He hadn't found anything yet but he supposed he could afford to be patient. Master Laurence had some work to do in this town before they got on the road again.

Cyril left the market with a freshly repaired sword and new shoulder armor that he had added to his Hunter's Attire. It wasn't too heavy, after removing his cloak Cyril avoided putting on his hat and donned his black cowl instead. He got himself a small supper and began thinking about his next move. He honestly would have liked to stay in Sheffield but it was still too close to Order territories to be safe. Such a shame too… He had heard much from Master Miles about the city-state and wished he had time to stay a bit longer.

He was ready for whatever came for him though. The Holy Moonlight Sword had shown itself to be the most effective weapon in his arsenal, its arcane might had proven itself near lethal to any monster that dared show itself and thought that he was easy prey to hunt down.

It was best that he kept the blade hidden in his room and Cyril felt his room key dangling from a leather cord around his neck. He had a break in once. The guard had been most upset to find the thief had broken arms but Cyril explained that the man had pulled a knife on him in the dark. It was the last time he had been accosted in his own room.

The Hunter finished his food, gave the bowl back to the kitchen and headed upstairs to rest.

Demon Realm Lescatie…

Greilia was astonished to find him here. The man who was standing in the throne room was unassuming but it was hard to ignore the pressure in the room. This was the husband of the Demon Lord, Arthur Pendragon. Garbed in black plate and mail armor, he oozed martial prowess and command. His dark hair was slicked back neatly. His kind eyes were darkened by worry and Greilia knew why.

The strongest of humanity. The former champion of the Chief God. Now the husband of her greatest nemesis and an accomplished Magic Gem craftsman. To know that he was here, it was something she was sure that even the Chief God would not ignore.

"Lord Pendragon." Greilia quickly bowed as the man approached. "You honor me with your presence this day."

"Greilia." The man turned. His kindly face was offset by the worried expression he wore. "I… I saw her today. She's… She's still sleeping… She won't wake up."

Greilia knew what Arthur was talking about. Druella had not stirred from her sleep but the city must have its rulers and its council was doing what they could. But Druella's defeat at the hands of the Moon Scented Hunter, not to mention the slaughter he had left behind in his wake, had cast a pall on the victory. Greilia did not know what else she could do, but she was doing her best. Especially with Druella still unresponsive in her bed.

"I know, my lord. I am worried about her too." Greilia said softly. "But… I…"

"I spoke to Runya and Shirokuto about… about that man." Arthur said. "None of what they have is conclusive." They walked together out of the throne room, the diminutive mistress of Greilia Sabbath and the husband to the Overlord of monsters. "But the way he… he fights. Does he think that you are all the same monsters as those humanity had fought against before Lilith?"

Arthur sighed. "Did he truly believe that my daughter was a monster? Enough to put her in such a state that she cannot even wake from slumber?"

"I believe that the… extremist faction had provoked him into acting." Greilia said carefully. Arthur had a knowing look on his face but he was still a bit incensed at what Greilia was saying. "And the situation deteriorated from there, I believe that he only wished to be left alone. Yes, he is dangerous. But I think he can be reasoned with."

"Still… He hurt my daughter." Arthur mused. "And I cannot allow… no Lilith and I cannot allow that to go unpunished."

"Even if you send other monsters to their deaths? Even if that means he comes back into this city seeking blood." Greilia asked turning to him. "My lord, I must plead with you to act cautiously. I have reports of the man's capability for wholesale slaughter… furthermore."

She closed her eyes. The images of the bodies she had to bury, hearing all the pain and sorrow in the voices of those who were mourning, the rage she felt at the extremists who had caused all of the events to occur during the siege of Lescatie that led to Druella being in a coma, organizing the reconstruction of the city itself… and the feeling of outright terror she felt right now made it difficult for her to speak wisely. She took a breath.

"Furthermore…" She continued. "He has promised that he will come back for Lady Druella should he be provoked."

Arthur sighed. "Lilith is beside herself." He said to Greilia. "Not to mention furious that something had happened to our Fourth Born. So she decreed the Hunter a dangerous entity to those who are loyal to us, but I'll speak to her about what you told me Greilia."

He looked vulnerable. So vulnerable, but what kind of father would not worry after their daughter who had suffered injuries? Greilia cursed the name of the Fourth Company Captain for what she had done, then shook those thoughts out of her head. No. Now was not the time for blame. She had a patient to treat and a family to look after as well.

"I thank you, truly, for all that you have done for my daughter." Arthur said with a gentle smile. "But I must act. Even if I cannot move from Makai like this, I must act."

"I know, my lord." Greilia nodded in agreement. "But I still must implore you not to act rashly."

"Fina."

Seras found Fina practicing her swordsmanship in their new yard. The Dhampir lowered her long-sword and looked to her foster mother who had a grim expression on her face. The vampire approached Fina, looking not only tired but also irritable. Fina knew that her mother's usual expression was a scowl but it was upsetting to see her so angry.

"Mother…" Fina said panting. "What happened?"

"What didn't?" Seras sighed as she sat down in the grass. Fina joined her a few moments later. "Lord Arthur was here in the afternoon. And he's planning on doing something." Seras bit back a curse as she looked up at the darkening sky. "Something that involves our old friend, the Hunter."

Fina shivered. She had been there that night the Hunter had laid the Fourth Princess low in single combat. Now her mother and father were involved. Fina did not know what else she could say. Natsume was still in… distress and she wasn't going to be very forthcoming either. Seras had long since washed her hands of Ursula's Fourth Company, and had decided to call in some favors to get back into Greilia's employ, the Baphomet heartily accepted and things were stable for a while.

Seras had more time to spend with Natsume as a result, the Kunoichi still scarred by who she encountered but at least she could function somewhat. She was even quieter, but Fina was happy that she was on her feet, no matter how unsteady. Fina would be there for her sister. It was as simple as that.

"So what will happen… mother?" Fina asked Seras.

Seras sighed. "Well, there's a bloody council meeting coming soon. And I'm in it, so we'll figure out then." She looked back at the small house she had taken for herself, particularly at the second floor where Natsume spent most of the day painting. Paintings that unfortunately had some twisted designs to it, to the point that Seras had to hide most of them away from possible prying eyes. Red was a primary color. Seras had seen strange symbols in Natsume's work and it made her head hurt to look at them. And no, she didn't allow anyone else to see them because that would mean that even more people going to the doctor's. Furthermore what kind of idiot would allow people to view something that was obviously unhealthy for them?

The worst part was that a lot of those monsters who wanted to see the damned pictures were witches from Shirokuto Sabbath. Even they didn't know what that arrogant goat was doing but here she was trying to get more research done at the cost of other monsters who were trying to help other people. Seras was honestly half tempted to go back to Royal Makai to slap the fuck out of the arrogant bitch for making her daughter go through more problems. She had no time for people to come poke and prod her daughters just because they had encountered a madman with no mana and yet was more than capable of slaughtering monsters on his own, and some of those monsters he had put down were high ranked ones that ordinary heroes of the Order would have had trouble with.

Seras exhaled. "Fuck this. I'm getting dinner cooked, Fina." She said. "Grumbling isn't going to help my stress right now so just come in when you're finished. I'll check on Natsume for you."

Fina let out a chuckle and got ready to finish off her routine.

"Natsume?"

The Kunoichi stopped painting. She set her brush down on the table. The picture was unfinished but the clock-tower in Lescatie's town center was starting to look good. She liked it. Natsume adjusted her kimono and turned around to find Seras standing in her doorway.

"Mother…" Natsume whispered and smiled gently.

"I'm getting dinner ready, Nats." Seras said to her. "How are you feeling about that?"

Natsume's smile grew wider. "I'm hungry, mother." She spoke softly. "I apologize if I concerned you the other night." The Kunoichi stood up. She seemed to have shrunk in on herself these past days and Seras felt an abject feeling of despair seeing the once proud Kunoichi like this. Especially after the round of nightmares she had been having…

The Hunter had done more than threaten her. The man had killed the proud woman she had once become and she hated him for it, even if Ursula had been the one that had provoked him into slaughtering his way out of the city. That night was the first time in many, many years that she had cried.

Seras sighed as she entered the kitchen to get dinner started for her two daughters. She was not looking to ruin her night further by worrying about the council meetings she had to attend… or thinking about witches who clearly needed to get their heads checked because she heard them knocking on her door right now.

"Damnit!" She swore as she stepped away from the kitchen. She stomped towards the front door and wrenched it open. Seras' brow rose in both irritation and surprise as she saw the diminutive figure waiting on her doorstep.

"Um… Hello!" Runya Runya, the Sleepy Magical Archive, waved a brown furred paw as she looked up at Seras. "Can I speak to you, Miss Seras?"

Seras pinched the bridge of her nose.