Chapter 9

9

The Butcher of Lescatie

"Well now, if it isn't… Laurence Miles…"

Cyril Sutherland, still donning the guise of Klaus Tennstedt, watched as his employer's smile turned into a wince, and then a dejected scowl as he turned around to regard the Gyoubu Danuki that had approached his caravan. Her kimono was a deep red, she was as elegantly dressed as any well-to-do merchant princess would be. Her red eyes gleamed mischievously looking at the Miles caravan, her large tail swished behind her. Her bodyguards were Oni, a red and blue one both armored in lacquer and metal. The red one gave Cyril a wink while the blue one already had a scowl forming on her face at her red skinned companion's antics. The red one had a club, the blue one a curved sword almost as tall as Cyril himself. High strength, Cyril wondered if he could take them on in a straight fight. He probably could, the red one was careless and carelessness lead to mistakes. Mistakes led to death.

The Hunter did not return the wink and instead observed the interactions between the Danuki and his employer. That was more interesting because it seemed that the both of them had some kind of history, and none of it was good, judging from the distasteful look on Laurence's face. The man's neck was slightly flushed and Cyril prepared to intervene if necessary. He could not afford any attention from the town guard.

"Kisaragi, it is such a wonderful day whenever you show yourself." Laurence grumbled in distaste. "Tell me, still looking to swipe sales from other good honest merchants like myself?"

"Hardly…" Kisaragi said crossing her arms. "Rather, I'm just trying to say hello to an acquaintance. Is that so bad?" She saw Cyril watching the argument unfold. "And who is this ravishing, yet stony faced specimen?"

"Picked him up on the road." Laurence answered Kisaragi as calm as he could make his voice sound, despite his growing anger. "Klaus Tennstedt may not be the most sparkling conversationalist but he's good with steel. Most of my men would be stuck in a monster's cave sucked dry if it weren't for him. Slew an Ogre and a Wurm on his lonesome."

Cyril eyed his employer. Such was his frustration that he made something of a racial statement. He saw the slight narrowing of Kisaragi's eyes was the evidence of the statement touching a nerve. Her smile had dipped slightly, but her bodyguards were more overt with their reactions as they looked at Cyril more cautiously now, frowns decorating their faces. The Hunter shrugged, time and again he would be forced defend himself to the best of his abilities. Cyril could understand her irritation but it seemed that Laurence had something of a grudge with the Danuki talking to him right now.

"Well… He must be very strong indeed." Kisaragi smiled coquettishly then abruptly turned her attention to Cyril, giving Laurence a brief look of disdain that Cyril caught for a few seconds before she was all smiles and flirting. Her demeanor irritated him. Greatly. Cyril could practically smell the deceit on her, and it was a cloying scent indeed.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Tennstedt." Kisaragi's tone was sweet as honey, and yet the way her bangs shadowed her eyes made Cyril straighten his posture.

"Greetings, Miss Kisaragi." Cyril replied with chilling politeness.

"So formal," Kisaragi tittered, as if she didn't just hear the quiet anger in his tone. "Don't worry, Master Tennstedt I don't bite. I understand that you are somewhat nervous around monsters."

Cyril shrugged. "I've had… horrific experiences with them. Rest assured however that my personal discomfort will not interfere with my blade-work. Human or monster, they want to start a fight I will end them."

Horrific experiences was a bit of an understatement. Lescatie was horrible and he was not looking for a repeat of that night, thank you very much.

Kisaragi's eyes gleamed covetously. "Well now… I normally would assume those words to be nothing more than a boorish boast but with you… For some reason I feel that I can trust you, Master Tennstedt." Brazenly she walked closer to him. If Cyril had been a lesser man he would have blushed because of her charm, or he would have shoved her away. Instead, the Hunter merely looked at her with such disdainful disinterest it was frightening to perceptive individuals. Kisaragi was certainly perceptive and she stepped back. Her confidence faltered slightly, her eyes wide under her bangs. Monsters were used to being expressive, it was this positive beauty what helped them score mates after all. The stony faced expression Klaus affected must have rattled her more than anything. Seeing such animosity must have scared her.

Laurence winced. Klaus Tennstedt was definitely an intense individual, even Kisaragi didn't deserve being under Tennstedt's negative scrutiny. "Er… Kisaragi, might wanna step back there. You don't wanna get on his bad side. But don't take it to heart, he's a good guy… most of the time."

"I see…" Kisaragi commented distantly now.

"Well… If you're still staying here, can I go? I have business in Sheffield that needs doing." Laurence asked, scratching the back of his head. Man this just got awkward in several different ways, so much so it wasn't worth seeing the uppity Danuki get slapped with such cold rejection that she was literally doing her best to keep her cracked mask on. Both her bodyguards were concerned for their charge.

"I apologize, Masters." The Blue Oni spoke up. "We seem to have lost track of time, Kisaragi-sama weren't you going to make a request?"

Shaking her head, Kisaragi nodded at her subordinate. "Ah-ha! I did forget, thank you Mion." She said. Cyril saw that she had recovered, and decided to step away from there. He had gear to check on and supplies to sort through. He felt eyes on the back of his head, and his own narrowed. Cyril merely adjusted his hood and kept walking.

"Thrice blasted… raccoon!" Laurence grumbled at the front seat of his wagon.

"You seem troubled, sir." Klaus said his voice quiet as he sat beside Laurence this time, keeping an eye out on the road. Kisaragi had asked to accompany Laurence's caravan since he was heading towards Sheffield, and even if the caravan was a bigger target Kisaragi had two very strong protectors. Combined with the mercenaries in Laurence's caravan (and Klaus Tennstedt who really should be considered a force of nature in Laurence's opinion) they should be relatively safe from harm.

"I don't trust Kisaragi Shirakome, simple as that." Laurence answered Klaus. "There's rumors that she buys out other merchants when they don't have enough product to sell, and has a hand in each and everyone of their pockets. Even the merchant guild won't dare confront her. I've been careful but watch out Mister Tennstedt, she'll have you by the balls if you don't watch your money."

Laurence took a sideways glance at Klaus who watched the road. The man's gaunt features clearly denoted that even if Kisaragi tried to coerce him into doing favors, he'd more than likely just cut her down right then and there. Laurence had seen the look on the mercenary's face when Kisaragi had tried flirting with the lad. It should have put a smile on his face, but not this time.

He took a glance at the carriage following his caravan. The two Oni that were following easily kept pace with the horses. The guards of Laurence's caravan were either on foot or driving the carts of product alongside his workers.

It would be a long time before Klaus would speak again. "So far so good." He said still not looking Laurence in the eye.

"Aye, if we keep this pace up and the weather's good we'll get to Sheffield in no time." Laurence answered. "Say, you… never really told me why you were headed to Zipangu."

Klaus went quiet again. "I hear things were more… peaceful there." He responded to Laurence's query. "I've had enough of being on guard whenever I travel."

Laurence could understand that. He too had sometimes wondered why he didn't just drop everything to permanently stay in Sheffield, he could just find a replacement and just let them handle the running of his merchant caravan. The merchant let that thought go at once, he knew why. He was a man who could not stay in one place but maybe someday he'd end up like his guard Klaus.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Laurence looked up at the gathering clouds that had begun to cover up the sun. "Blasted weather… I knew I shouldn't have said anything." He shouted at the wagons behind him, telling them that they would be setting up camp. And for the workers to break out tents. Beside Laurence, Klaus let out an exhale as he reached behind him for his brown cloak to ward off the rain.

Laurence wondered what else could go wrong.

The rain came down in torrents but there was no thunder. It was just wet and cold. Honestly, Shion had better things to do than to sit around. So she drank, as all Red Oni were wont to do. Mion, her ever more serious blue skinned cousin, scowled at the large sake bottle the Red Oni had carried.

"Again? Really?" Mion muttered. The pair of them were covered by large cloaks and their kasa hats were charmed with water proofing spells to keep out the rain.

"What?" Shion took a gulp from her gourd, equated to human terms a normal human man or woman would have to imbibe at least ten tankards of ale. "We've got nothing else to do other than stay here until the rain stops anyway."

"I'm not dealing with your crap if you get a hangover, you oaf." Mion replied scathingly. "I remember all of the times I had to drag your arse back to Kisaragi-sama's office every time you got in trouble or worse."

"Ah, I know what will cheer you up Mion." Shion grinned, showing off her sharp teeth. Her red face was getting ruddy. "We should invite that stony faced guy we met with Kisaragi-sama!"

Mion's expression turned downright cautious. "Shion, that is not a good idea." She said to her fiery spirited partner. "Why would you even think that? Kisaragi-sama thinks that he's dangerous!"

"Aw, shucks… I'm sure that he's a big softy inside!" Shion crowed. "And who doesn't wanna drink during such nasty weather anyway!?"

Mion still refused and crossed her arms, glaring at Shion until she scowled and gave up. She already had seen the way Tennstedt had looked at her mistress. The man was not fond of mamono in the slightest, she could see that in the coldly polite way he interacted with Kisaragi-sama. Surprisingly, despite what happened, he did not make any hostile movements towards them or Kisaragi-sama. In fact, Klaus Tennstedt was outright polite with them whenever they had interacted on the road. He would have been a fine catch for a husband if he hadn't been such a stony faced and dangerous individual.

She saw him walking right now, hooded and cloaked. He was making rounds around the campsite. He talked with the other human mercenaries who were also on watch, Mion saw the relieved look on their faces. Mion knew that Klaus was strong but seeing such releived expressions on the other men and women's faces… Mion had heard that Klaus had left the Order on account of seeing far, far too much wars with the monsters. At least, that was what the rumors say. She had spoken to several of the human mercenaries about Klaus and found that not a lot of people knew about him.

What kind of man was this Klaus Tennstedt?

Cyril continued on his patrol despite the rain. It didn't really bother him, despite being reminded of facing… facing…

The Hunter palmed his face as he stopped, struggling to keep his breathing under control. His other hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. Memories… Again with the memories of that fateful night, and the bleeding hell that was the Hunter's Nightmare.

The Orphan shrieked and he endured as its weapon slammed into his body, sending him into the water briefly.

He was drowning… Drowning… But he got back up, sword in hand as the Orphan of Kos charged right at him flailing its demented weapon. He met its charge, the Holy Moonlight Sword glowing in his hands…

Cyril let out a breath. He had put that nightmarish beast to rest. It had been the least he could do for something that had suffered not just the death of its parent but a meaningless life that would only end in despair.

"A bottomless curse, a bottomless sea… Accepting of all that there is, and can be…" He muttered softly to himself. He continued on his patrol, returning greetings from the other mercenaries he was working with. He couldn't remember all of their names as some of them were replacements for those they had lost to roving mamono or, surprisingly, bandits.

But he remembered the dead ones, their pleading or dead faces. That was his curse, to remember those who met a tragic end. Cyril had given up many things during the Night of the Hunt, but he was human enough to regret not being able to save everyone he could help. Cyril walked his route, coming back to where he had pitched his tent. A few more minutes and his shift on watch was over and he could sleep a dreamless sleep. Sometimes, he would dream of her standing in the field of white asphodels. The only person he cared about during the Night of the Hunt. Cyril looked up at the cloudy sky. "I miss you. Evetta." He said softly. "I wish I could see you again."

Thunder roared and lightning flashed. Cyril blinked. Something was wrong. Again, lightning flashed and Cyril saw someone walking towards his tent. The Hunter saw a knife in the man's hands. Cyril drew his sword and had it poised for a thrust, and the moment the knife wielding man opened the tent flap Cyril's steel blade punched right into the man's stomach.

The bandit groaned, blood seeping out of his mouth. Cyril watched him die, the bandit spitted on remorseless steel. Cyril pushed the bandit out of his tent and wrenched the blade out of the corpse. Interesting, so there are bandits who were smarter than the rest of their ilk. The Hunter slipped his cloak off and walked into the rain, vanishing into the shadows. He went back on his patrol route, already hearing fighting. Well, this was irritating. He had not expected a bandit raid in the middle of a rainstorm but things happened when you least expected. The Hunter looked around, checking his surroundings before making a decision.

Cyril moved into the brush, where he met his second victim. As the man stood up from the corpse of a mercenary he had just killed, the Hunter separated the bandit's head from his neck with a single sweeping blow of his sword. The headless corpse fell forwards. Cyril checked the mercenary and shook his head. The man had died in agony it seemed, making the attempt to hold his guts inside his body. Cyril quietly and solemnly closed the dead man's eyes, a habit he formed during the Night of the Hunt. It would not be the first, and certainly not the last, this night.

The Hunter moved on, cutting down bandits in his way. He took them by murder rather than fair combat. A bandit let out a gargle as Cyril's sword punched through his back and out of his chest. The mercenary that had been struggling with him sighed in relief as Cyril pulled the bandit aside then slashed his throat to make doubly sure that he was dead. The clash of steel continued to intensify and Cyril and the other mercenary moved quickly towards the source, finding a full fledged battle in the main camp. Cyril swatted aside a sword that was coming for his head and struck at the assailant with a well aimed thrust that punched into the bandit's chest. He met the charge of another one, catching the bandit's sword arm. He pushed the man aside and cut his back open. Why he was running around bare chested was anyone's guess.

The Hunter killed again, and again. His strikes were measured and deadly, cutting down man after man with no wasted movement. By the time Cyril realized he was done, there were bodies scattered around him and Laurence's mercenaries were staring. Cyril panted as he swung his sword down to remove the blood.

The rain had stopped. It was almost morning. Cyril looked into the eyes of the other mercenaries and saw fear and awe. He just shook his head and pulled his hood back on. He had bandits to kill.

Demon Realm of Lescatie…

"… Surely, it would be in our best interests to find this despicable being and execute him! He is a danger to us all, Lord Arthur! How many of us must be slaughtered before we realize the danger that we are all in!?" An Amazon spoke up passionately from the right side of the table.

Greilia's paws clenched on the table as more monsters continued to call for the death of the Moon Scented Hunter. A werewolf, a senior judging from the way her fur was turning gray, stood up. "Sisters, I agree with Lady Tione's statement." She said. "We cannot allow such a dangerous foe to exist for so long, his shadow has cast a pall on this paradise of ours. Our beloved Fourth Born is still unresponsive! Shall we allow this slight against our people to continue!?"

More calls for action. Greilia looked at Lord Arthur who considered every suggestion he was hearing. The monsters that took Greilia's side were few and far between, they were just tired of having the sword of Damocles hanging over their heads. If the Moon Scented Hunter was provoked into returning to Lescatie by reckless monsters who sought his head, then they would all be in danger.

Already, he had gained another set of monikers: The Butcher of Lescatie. The Bane of Monsters. The Unleashed Blade of Chaos. So many titles given to a man who had asked to be left alone, and here there were monsters who wanted to take him on. Knowing full well what kind of carnage they could expect to see if they allowed soldiers to make their moves, Greilia stood up. The diminutive Baphomet's austere presence silenced the council's debating.

"I see that we are all concerned with our new acquaintance but we cannot be rash." Greilia said, magic amplifying her voice. "You seem to believe that no man is a match for any mamono, and yet that belief has just been torn to shreds in front of us when this city was taken."

She was not admonishing anyone, but such was her frustration with the council's war mongering she could not stand silent any longer.

"This man, the Moon Scented Hunter, has shown himself to be ruthless and capable. He not only murdered his way through some of our finest warriors he has fought against a Hero in single combat and won. That was the testimony of Wilmarina Noscrim, who has decided to join our side." She looked at the council, their faces filled with anger and fear. "This Hunter is not only a masterful fighter, he has also perfected the art of killing. His murderous talents were enough to attract the attention of the God of Death, everyone. I hope you do realize how bad it is if Hel herself has sent her messengers to us… and we just ignored them."

She continued on. "He has already laid low Druella, the Fourth Born of her Majesty Lilith. The Fourth Born is one of the most powerful Lilims to walk this earth, and he laid her low in single combat . I do not condone what he did, gods I know that I am sickened of the slaughter he had left on these streets, but I…"

She trembled hugely. Arthur started when he saw her distress and approached the Baphomet. "I cannot bear to create another mass grave of monsters and their husbands, I cannot bear to look into dead faces filled with terror and agony. I cannot wake up screaming every night, dreaming of a mad killer raising a blade to kill me with it. So please… I ask this council to act wisely. Do not waste lives in a fruitless pursuit."

Her voice got quiet.

Much like the council chambers as they considered what she was saying.

In the end, as always, the council was still divided. Greilia sat within her quarters and sighed as she washed her face. She was getting ready for bed, she had just returned from tending to the Fourth princess but there was no change in the comatose Lilim. They did what they had to in order to keep her as healthy as possible.

But it had been a long sleep… and Greilia sensed that it was her magic keeping her alive. She just hoped that Runya had answers, because no way in the seven hells would she go and ask Shirokuto to do so. Greilia sighed as she sat down on the side of her downy bed and held her face in her paws.

She just hoped that Arthur would not send warriors out to hunt down the Hunter.

Nothing and no one would survive that man.