Chapter 12

12

Valkyrie

Cyril finished sweeping. The Hunter exhaled, having decided to once again help Sierra get the tavern back in order while the day was slow. There was a good reason for it, it was raining hard out there. It was cold too. Nobody wanted to get caught out in the open like that, but he was going to have to walk into that storm. The tavern owner, a surly dwarf by the name of Emil Gold-Gatherer, muttered about not having enough ingredients for the kitchen. There was enough for one full day but that was it.

Sierra was about to go when Cyril volunteered to accompany her. He was just waiting on her to get ready. Such was his job now, having been offered a permanent place at the Prancing Pony. Cyril didn't exactly get to hammer out what exactly his role was but Emil said that he was "a guard and a cleaner." Emil didn't care which. Especially with the rumors as to how he handled a big time merchant like Ephraim Ludendorf. Emil hated the man, seeing as he not only bothered Sierra but also some other female clientele of Emil's, costing him some business in Sheffield.

Cyril suspected that there was some other reason that involved money, maybe that or he underestimated just how unpleasant the man truly was. Perhaps, Cyril should have just killed Ephraim Ludendorf. The Hunter would not be surprised if the whole city erupted into celebration at the time of his death. What surprised him even more was the mutual respect Sierra and Emil held for each other. Usually an Elf or a Dwarf would be at each other's throats by now, as dictated by the Monster Girl Encyclopedia. When he asked the both of them about it, Emil made it clear that it does happen and that they were a rarity. He also warned Cyril about mentioning elves around other dwarves, as it is a good way to get into a brawl. The same went with the opposite.

"If you're looking to die with an arrow in your throat, mention dwarves to an elf." Was what Emil had told him. "So be careful, lad."

Cyril took that advice to heart. An arrow to the throat was not a good way to go, and this was coming from a Hunter who had faced death in every waking moment.

Sierra owed Emil for sheltering her in Sheffield, apparently. Cyril didn't press the young elf on what happened in her past. She respected him enough not to ask why he left Lescatie so he offered her the same respect in that regard. Still, his deception regarding who he truly was rankled. Even if she accepted what happened to him anyway, Cyril refused to tell her the truth of who he was.

"Mister Tennstedt?"

Cyril saw that Sierra was waiting for him to be ready, wearing a long brown cloak with a hood to help keep out the water over her usual work clothes. Cyril had his own hood over his head. His Hunter's attire was more than enough to deal with the rain and it didn't bother him anyway.

"Shall we?" He asked her.

The rain had lessened somewhat but it was still a downpour. Sierra kept pace with the mercenary as Klaus led them towards the market to get a delivery order started for the ingredients needed at the Prancing Pony. Like always, Klaus was her escort and the usual pickpockets who targeted people in the market kept clear of the stony faced mercenary. And for good reason.

Sierra had seen the result of those thieves being too brave. They had left a man huddled into a ball on the ground. The thief had threatened Sierra for her coin purse. Klaus responded by putting the man out of action with a swift kick to the testicles.

Since that incident they had been left alone, and the thief had been picked up by amused guards a few minutes later.

"Mister Tennstedt? Are you alright?" Sierra asked. Both of them were waiting for the storekeeper to come back with confirmation of their order.

Klaus was looking outside at the rain, but he eyed all of the food regardless. Monsters and men weren't very different when it came to food it seemed. Sierra saw some vegetables that she wanted to buy but she didn't have that time. She really didn't want to annoy her protector by taking her time shopping, but truth be told she was enjoying herself. Secretly, she would certainly not admit this to anyone else, she hoped that her protector would enjoy her company as well.

"I'm fine, Miss Sierra." Klaus answered. He kept looking outside. "Just… thinking."

"I-If you'd like, you can return to the tavern." Sierra offered. "You don't have to stay with me the whole time."

Klaus shook his head. "No… it's fine." He said. "Truth be told, it's been a while since I did something so… mundane." He let out a small chuckle.

Sierra smiled inwardly. So he could show emotions… What a strange human Klaus Tennstedt was. "Mundane?"

"I find comfort in simple physical labor. Strange I know, it was very recently that I found this out." Klaus explained as Sierra stood with him to look outside, where a Lamia slithered quickly down the wet street holding a cloak over her head. On the opposite side of the street, a young minor noble held an umbrella up sheltering a Kikimora. She was both his maid and his wife, judging from the ring Sierra saw on her finger. She was also pregnant, judging from the way she held her gravid belly.

"It must be tough… Being a mercenary." Sierra stated carefully. "You're always in danger right?"

"Indeed." Klaus said hearing someone clear their throat. The unlikely pair of Hunter and Elf turned around. The shopkeeper, a large Holstaurus, smiled politely.

"Well, the Prancing Pony can expect a delivery within a few hours." The Holstaur shopkeeper said. "Is there anything else you both need?"

"Um… No. Thank you." Sierra bowed her head. "I will make sure to tell Master Emil that the order is complete."

"Our business is concluded then." The Holstaurus bowed in the same way. She smiled brightly. "Have a nice day! And do keep dry!"

Klaus bowed, a hand on his chest. He then opened the door for Sierra and the pair went out.

"So… what's next?" Klaus asked.

"Um… the carpenter's." Sierra answered.

"Ah, the leak." Klaus noted. "I was sure that that would require attention sooner or later. I wonder why Emil didn't want me working on it…"

Sierra smiled gently. "With the firewood being done alongside the sweeping and cleaning, I think he's feeling shameful about you doing so much for the tavern." She said to him.

Klaus shrugged at that. "I strive to do my utmost every day I am working." He told her.

Sierra giggled.

The way to the carpenter's was quiet for a time, and the rain had turned into a lesser drizzle by the time they were close. Sierra stopped just as Cyril did. The Hunter held out his arm to arrest her forward motion when he heard the yelling.

"Oh no…" Sierra whispered.

Cyril wasn't as concerned but he did know the sound of an angry mob.

Men in brown robes were shouting and screaming at a monster-human couple. Cyril narrowed his eyes. The man was stockily built and was holding a hammer in one hand but even he would not do anything against a crowd of men wielding clubs. He was defending a Holstaurus, evidently his companion in work and his life.

There were two guards as well, their spears pointed at the crowd. It seemed that there was about to be a riot going on. The Hunter exhaled with some form of finality. He had not expected that he would be dealing with the Order in a place like Sheffield.

So be it.

"Sierra, hide." He said softly.

"What are you going to do?" She asked. "That's Johannes the carpenter, and those are all… Order fanatics."

"So they are." Cyril answered. "And I am sure that the crowd isn't asking your carpenter out for a nice theological chat."

"Klaus, don't! You'll get hurt!"

Cyril turned from Sierra Underwood, the steel sword hanging from his hip already in his hand. The Hunter moved calmly towards the violence as a brown robed rioter struck one of the guards in the helmet with his club. As the zealots began to shout praises to their chief god and crowd around their intended targets, the Good Hunter was on the first man he saw. When the zealot aimed a shot at the downed guard's face with his weapon he was suddenly aware of the club, and his arm, flying through the air.

The zealot let out a bloodcurdling scream of pain and shock. The Hunter pointed his sword at the crowd which shrank back as they saw blood oozing from the stump of the zealot's arm which was lying in the street. The crowd was shocked at the sudden violence against those who followed the Order. The bleeding wretch had fallen on his behind as he screamed and screamed, begging for someone to help him. Cyril had never felt so utterly disgusted.

"Leave." Cyril said his voice sibilant and cold. "Or I hack off a head instead of an arm."

"You heretic!" An old man shoved forward. Bald and fat he waved a book around menacingly. "You defend monsters from justice! The Chief God does not smile upon you, sinner! You will repent-AH!"

The Hunter's sword licked out and opened a large gash in the fat zealot's face. Bleeding profusely the man screamed as he stepped back into the shelter of his fellows, holding his wound and pointing at Cyril's sword, babbling in anger. Cyril didn't lower his sword, standing between the crowd and the guards, not to mention the carpenter and his monster wife. Everyone's eyes were on the newcomer, who wielded a simple sword and yet there was no doubt that he was more than capable of slaughtering everyone on the street with a weapon.

The Hunter was more than prepared to send more than a few souls to hell this day, of that he was sure of.

"You have spoken your peace." Cyril told the crowd of zealots. "Leave before someone has to die."

The zealots left quickly, bringing their wounded with them.

"Mister Johannes! Miss Livia!" Sierra quickly rushed to the couple. "Are you okay!?"

Cyril waited for the zealots to disperse. While Sierra checked on their carpenter, Cyril was a bit more concerned about the guards. He guessed that it would pay dividends if he was seen doing his best to aid the town watch. He sheathed his blade, eyes still in the direction where the zealous crowd fled. He had a feeling he'd see more of them sometime soon.

"Thank you, stranger." The older guard said while he checked on his younger companion. The boy was groaning, his helmet dinged. Cyril aided the older guard in removing the helmet so they could check on his injury.

"What… What hit me?" The victim asked, sounding groggy. The young man had a trickle of blood flowing down his face. Cyril winced at that.

"A club." The older guard told the rookie. "And you now have a concussion. We should get back to the barracks before-"

"Oy! You there!"

A squad of guardsmen approached, armed and armored this time. Spears were leveled at the Good Hunter who raised one hand in a placating gesture. He did not sheathe his blade, not because he was ready for a fight but because of the sudden hostility of the reinforcing guards.

"Damn it, sergeant!" The older guard stood up. "Take it easy! If this guy hadn't been here there would be three dead!"

"Wait…" One of the guards approached. "Hey, you're that mercenary from before!"

Cyril was most surprised to find a familiar face among the guards. Today was starting to be more of a bother than anything else.

"Small world ain't it, stranger?"

Sierra frowned at Molly who was grinning at their apparently mutual acquaintance. She was clearly not jealous, no she was not. She just felt that Molly was a little bit too forward, and that she was bothering Klaus.

And to reiterate, Sierra Underwood was not jealous of how forward her friend's attitude was towards her acquaintance.

To his credit, Klaus Tennstedt did not react in the slightest to Molly's forward displays. The mercenary only responded with a shrug.

Molly took it all in stride however as she saw that Sierra was getting a little antsy. "Okay, well you're a bit of a spoilsport but…" At this her smile and attitude turned genuinely grateful. "Thanks… for helping Sierra by the way. She's a good soul and people like Ludendorf…"

She frowned suddenly causing Sierra to fret. "What happened to the fat bastard anyway?"

"I told him that I would cut his throat if he approached Sierra again." Klaus said simply. "I figured that if he was a smart man, he would heed that warning."

"You're very serious aren't you?" Molly grinned this time. "Damn… Tall, dark, handsome and mysterious. Here I am thinking you couldn't be any more attractive!"

"M-Molly!" Sierra stammered. "D-Don't bother Mister Tennstedt so much! He is a bit too busy to deal with your joking right now!"

"Oh, I'm just having a bit of fun, Sierra! No need to be such a prude!" Molly waved the elf off.

Klaus looked down the street. "Say, Miss Molly…" He started.

"Uh, yeah?" Molly asked.

"Those Order zealots, I thought such things were frowned upon in this city?"

When Klaus put that question out Sierra looked down at her feet while Molly scratched her cheek. "That's a real complicated question mate, but know this. We've had a particularly rough time with that set of loonies."

Klaus exhaled, looking resigned. There was a look in his eye that Sierra was not liking at all. It was as if the man knew it was his fate to clash with the Order and that upset her.

"I see." Klaus said after a long pause that made the both of them uncomfortable. Sierra hoped he wasn't planning on doing something reckless. She was not about to allow Klaus to put himself in danger. In any case, she would have to tell Emil that the leak would not be repaired today. Sierra would tell him the truth, that a bunch of Order zealots had attacked their resident carpenter and that they were recuperating. It was unfortunate but Sierra was going to ask Mister Klaus to do it in the carpenter's stead when the rain let up.

She was sure Klaus wouldn't mind.

Humanity was wayward and it often falls to the truly divine to guide their hands.

And yet Jophiel, Watchman of the Chief God, shook her head as she listened to the inane prattling of the so-called Father Zachariah who accused her target of being a monster sympathizer. Father Zachariah was a foolish man if he believed that Jophiel would move according to the "priest's" will alone.

The Valkyrie kept her mien hidden underneath a hood but those of the Order faith would know an angel when they saw one. And what celebrations they had! They would cleanse cursed Sheffield of the monster taint, and one day all of humanity would be a stronghold against the Dark!

Zealots. Jophiel needed level headed crusaders, not these fire and brimstone preachers who thought cruelty to heathens was the quickest way to heaven. They liked to talk the talk but reality often proved these types of men and women to be craven worms in the end. Cherry picking their favorite parts from the holy books, following tenets only when it suited them… Jophiel could list more sins but such was her disgust with this lot that she had barely resisted vaporizing the whole lot in holy white fire.

Jophiel had no doubt that the Order was dying. It was blasphemous for her to harbor such thoughts but the truth had a way of clarifying things for her. The Order of the Chief God was dying but that did not mean that the divinities who supported Her would leave mankind to stand against the storm alone. Jophiel was one such angel designed for such purpose. She was less combat oriented than most of her other sisters within the Authorities Choir, but she was an able agent regardless.

This… Hunter was someone of great importance. Jophiel had been ordered to shadow the man ever since the debacle in Lescatie, and she had done so at a distance. Mortals were able to perceive an angel but only when they willed it. Monsters could see through their little disguises however and Jophiel had no doubt that a Lilim could bring her down with one shot.

Which made her target, the Hunter, all the more interesting. Because he had taken on the Monster Lord's daughter on his own and not only survived but he also proved victorious. Jophiel had thought he was inimical to monsters alone but that had changed when this merry band of zealous idiots encountered him in the streets today.

Jophiel knew a killer when she saw one. Sister Camael would have approved had she seen the way he handled the crowd, first by lopping a man's arm off and then opening Father Zachariah's face like a well cooked ham.

Valkyries were supposed to be guiding those potential humans to become the heroes mankind needed them to be. This Hunter did not need such guidance and yet he did not use his power for the good of the Chief God or the world that all of humanity held dear. He used his power to keep the world away. There was no doubt that he was quite possibly the oddest target she had had the honor of being assigned to.

If only she knew just how wrong her perceptions was.

If only she knew what the Good Hunter was capable of…