26. Monster Hunters
((Author's Note: otherwise known as the actual Monster Hunter video game AU. Also apologies if there's a few flubs, as I got my start with MH World and learned the lore backwards.))
The clouds seem to shudder from a rumble, and Chrom looks to the sky, to make sure he's hearing thunder. He holds his breath for a moment, waiting, stretching out his hearing; the insects around him keep chirping, and through the undergrowth he can hear the heavy footfalls and rustle of scales, as herd beasts push their way through the forest.
The one thing he DOESN'T hear is panicked bellows, or any thunderous roars.
'It was just thunder.' He tells his body, letting it slowly relax. And the sky supports that thought, as droplets start to spill down on him. It isn't long before the rain picks up, and he's soaked to the skin. The rain drums on the switch axe on his back, making it ping softly, and steam rises where the rain splashes the vials.
The knee-high cat at his side gives an unhappy meowl, rubbing her face with her free paws as she sheaths her own weapon. Chrom takes the cue from the Palico, already dashing away through the undergrowth.
He takes one last glance at the claw marks scoured into the ground, tries to memorize their direction… And then bolts for shelter, keeping his eyes out for any more tracks or trails. The primal forest closes in around him… As do the bones of a massive, ancient beast. The ribcage of this monster has likely stood in the forest longer than his family has existed. And unnerving as the reaching, tree sized bones are, they also do a good job of blocking out the rain.
With a sigh, Chrom collapses against one of them, letting the moss and overgrowth cushion him. His Palico also shakes water off her fur, giving a soft mumble. This hasn't been his best day, if he's being honest with himself-
"Out on a hunt?" Comes a voice near his ear, and it jolts Chrom back up with a startled and undignified yelp. Not exactly the image of a professional, measured hunter. But at least the speaker also scrambles backwards, just as spooked.
He picks out black scale armor and splashes of violet cape, all cloaking a silver haired girl. A black haired cat accompanies her, giving Chrom and his own Palico a suspicious look.
"Um… Y-yeah. Yeah." Chrom finally finds his words. "I'm guessing that's true for you?"
He knows he's looking at another hunter; that much is clear from her armor. The long blade and shield on her back is just the last hint he needs. She gives a slow nod, answering his question.
"And… It looks like we have the same quarry." She tells him. And from the look of this stranger, she's hunted wyverns before.
-o-o-o-
Robin is a surprisingly gentle name, for such a seasoned looking hunter. She doesn't comment much when Chrom gives his own name, instead intent on picking up the trail. A gap in the storm clouds gives them time to move, and track. Her eyes are as sharp as the Palicos, picking out bits of shed scale… And then, as the trail increases, the signs become more clear. Scorches marring the trees, deep gashes left by clawed wings. And-
The game trail seems to open up like a wound in front of them. And there's odd black marks scabbing up the ground. Chrom bends down to look at one of them… Only to be stopped by Robin's hand on his shoulder.
"Don't get too close." She warns him. A moment later, he understands why, as the black marks give an odd hiss and start to smoke. He catches only a taste of the odd miasma, and his vision blurs for a split second; all at once, his own armor feels too heavy, and the switch axe on his back is like a solid weight.
"It's Gore Magala alright." Robin says, voice pitched low and in clear respect for their quarry. Chrom forces himself to take a deep breath of clean air, deciding that all the stories of those strange, corruptive scales have to be true.
"And we're getting close." She continues. She gives a signal to the cats, indicating that they should hang back. Chrom mirrors her signal, leaving him and Robin to stalk forward on their own. The forest opens up, giving way to larger grassy fields. Good places for a hunt, and hand to hand combat…
…And they're going to need that space, when he sees the mass of black prowling along the grass. It looks almost like a great cat, sleek and dark, and shivering with power. The long wings on it trail along like a strange, regal cape.
"That's our target." Robin tells him. "I'll lead, and try to draw its attention." There's a strange, focused quality to her words. When he looks over, Chrom sees her tensed up, almost a mirror of the dragon with how she crouches and starts to prowl forward, every limb of hers twitching with energy and anticipation.
"And remember; if you get the chance, strike along the stomach." Robin tells him. He doesn't get time to do more than an agreeing hum; she's already sliding down the forested hill and closing the distance. The dragon slowly turns towards her, almost like it can't believe a human dares to intrude on its domain-
Or that a human dares to draw a sword on it, and slams the blade straight across its shadow scaled neck. The beast gives an outraged hiss, opening a mouth that has too many teeth, and turns on Robin. One of its wings pops free, showing the long, strange claw-like hands that sprout from the joint. They curl, ready to slam into Robin and crush her into the ground. But she's already rolling away, forcing the monster to follow her.
Robin's dodge looks almost like a scramble, but Chrom can't help but notice that she's taking pains to step on every stick and branch, and leave a loud snapping trail; a clear distraction. The strange, eyeless head follows her footsteps, bristling with rage.
And as it chases her, Gore Magala turns its back on Chrom, giving him the perfect chance to leap in and strike its flanks.
The axe bites deep. And the Palicos, while not as imposing, manage to get a few hits in as well. All while the sky begins to rumble overhead, echoing the outraged roars of the monster, and the rain slashes back down in full force.
He splashes through something, and for a split second wonders if they've wandered into a river… And then, Chrom looks down. Sees how the rain hasn't yet washed away the red coating the grass, and the strange crimson mud where the ground has been torn away. Nearby, he sees several lumpy, broken shapes littering the ground; corpses of other monsters, still with blood on their talons and fangs, and an odd purple hue tinging their skin.
He'd been warned about this; that there was a unique property to this monster that makes it so dangerous… But there's no time to think about the warning. Not when Gore Magala works itself into a rage.
The monster shakes off their strikes, shedding strange blackened scales in the process. It barrels across the grasses, bleeding motes of violet and shadow. Claws gouge on the ground as it rushes across the plain, and Chrom barely has time to throw himself out of the path. But Robin is equal to those violent strikes, dashing with the monster. When it wheels at her, she dodges beneath the jaws, matching it strike for strike, slamming the shield over her sword as it morphs into a great blade.
He wonders if even a charge blade is capable of matching this beast. And that doubt throws Chrom forward, and he doesn't even flinch as he charges through the miasma-
And he feels a strange mist sticking to his vision, turning everything into a stark violet and red… And with it, comes a rage that clings to his muscles, and drives a sudden frenzy into his muscles. There's a faint warning thought blaring through Chrom, that the miasma is doing something to him-
But that dims, as Robin gives out a strange berserk howl, caught in the midst of the miasma. And through the churning mists, he sees Robin glaring at the monster, her eyes glowing red against purple tinged skin.
That warning blares through him again; a reminder of what the report said… That the monster drives others mad, through the aura and mist it spreads. But Chrom can't bring himself to break away. There's a fire burning through his brain and body, driving him to FIGHT.
That madness also gives him something else; a sudden burst of speed and strength, as he throws himself onto the monster, and feels his own weapon shift and change into a long blade. The switch axe morphs, the new sword blade glowing with energy and power. Chrom plunges the blade deep, letting it burn flesh and skin… And that's when he sees it. The faint glint of gold scales, beneath the shadows.
And he remembers what the old hunt master, Frederick told him; that the only thing more dangerous than a Gore Magala, is one that is stopped right before it can transform into a godly Shagaru beast. When it becomes trapped between phases… And gains both strength and madness. The monster whirls, desperately trying to shake him off. Its antenna-esque horns unfold from its head, one of them crackling and shifting into a true golden horn, and a crimson eye opens underneath it.
He wants to break away… But the rage burning through his body won't let him. And it keeps his vision tunneled, so he can't even see the misshapen, gold clad wing breaking from the body until it's too late. The wing slams into his chest, the claws crunch into his torso and even through his armor Chrom can feel his ribs bruise and threaten to crack. He's knocked clear of the monster, his blade scything the air and falling well away from him.
And the Gore Magala looms over him, pinning him to the earth, shrieking rage and ready to crush him under claw and wing.
The Palicos have been shed as well, giving a confused and dazed mrowl. Leaving him to face the half mutated monster. The claws in its muscled, gold tinted wings have turned a vivid crimson, and Chrom half wonders if that's thanks to his blood.
A rumbling builds in the monster's throat, and through the fangs, there's hints of violet burning light. So he's about to die by dragon fire, Chrom thinks-
Except Robin has other ideas, as she vaults along the monster's wings and leaps above , blade fully charged and sinking into the monster's neck. Its head yanks back, the fire shooting well above Chrom's head. The claws tear away from the earth, and he draws in a shaky breath.
He feels something get pressed into his hand, and he realizes the Palicos have rallied and gotten his sword back to him. They give a quick encouraging meow, pushing him to his feet. Chrom forces himself up the rest of the way, and dashes straight at the monster.
He faintly remembers Robin's advice, and even through the odd frenzy gripping his brain, he clings to it. He goes straight for the stomach and chest, and plunges the charge blade into the monster's chest. And then, he just desperately clings on, even as the monster thrashes, screams, and tries to claw at him.
It turns into a blur, where he is faintly aware that Robin is slashing into the monster, while he does his best to cling on and fight… Until at last, the monster goes slack. He has just enough presence of mind to roll away, between the wings. The Chaotic Gore Magala tried to keep itself held up on its wings, only to finally collapse and give one final death shudder.
His own strength gives out on him, and Chrom collapses into the dirt.
"…You still alive?" Robin calls out, and with the monster's death Chrom can feel the miasma slowly dispersing. Slowly giving back clarity.
He manages a faint "…Yeah." In response, and finds Robin standing over him. The red slowly leaks out of her eyes, the purple vanishing from her skin. For his part, Chrom wonders how she can still keep her feet. With the violet armor coating her, and the impossible strength cracking through her, it looks almost like she belongs here, tied into the cycle of fighting these things.
"Not bad, considering your first fight with that thing." She tells him, and offers her hand to help him up. And when he takes it, Chrom feels a sudden jolt of strength, and finds that he CAN climb to his feet after all.
"Looks like you have an affinity towards these things as well." Robin says, almost half to herself. She raises her head, carefully measuring him up. "You know… There are others like that, prowling the wilderness. And the towns won't be safe until-"
"Until we take care of all of them." That notion should fill him with dread. And yet, standing beside Robin, he can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. "It sounds almost impossible… Though we managed to pull a victory off anyway."
"So this isn't our last time working together as hunters?" Robin asks. In answer, he reaches out to clasp her hand, heedless of the scale armor coating it. And he feels an odd jolt of euphoria when she grips back, sealing the agreement.