The situation at the border between Limgrave and Caelid was as unsettling as the turmoil gripping the Lands Between.
On this pitch-black night, the gale howled against them, yet the mysterious cavalry paid it no mind as they raced madly through the storm.
The warhorses' hooves thundered like rolling lightning, like roaring lions, deafening enough to tear through the endless Darkness.
They had once been hunters of death. Now, death itself was chasing them down like fleeing prey.
The knights were trembling, and their warhorses shuddered just as violently.
Raindrops broke apart under the raging wind, scattering with crisp, sharp sounds, like death knells ringing beside their ears.
In the distance, the Smoldering Church seemed to sway on the verge of collapse amid that urgent rhythm.
It was as if countless dead surrounded it, ghostly voices singing around the church, chanting songs of death.
"Murdock, move faster! If you lose the prey, I'll make you regret it! Faster! The Fire Knights are catching up!"
At the head of the cavalry, a towering man roared himself hoarse.
He raised his riding crop and lashed the warhorse beneath him. The horse ran with all its strength, going faster and faster, as though terrified the whip would fall again.
But it still was not fast enough. The towering man kept swinging the crop wildly, whipping the horse without mercy, forcing it to run faster, faster...
From the far end of the horizon, sight-swallowing Darkness surged toward Caelid like a tide.
The hunter who had fallen behind was nearly scared out of his wits by the sudden Darkness. His scream echoed through the night, filled with despair and fear.
The Darkness was almost upon him. He yanked desperately at the reins, trying to control his frightened warhorse, but the horse had also lost all reason before that terrifying Darkness and neighed in panic.
"Wait for me! Wait for me! Don't leave me behind!"
The towering man glanced back. In that brief instant, he thought he saw a pair of pitch-black eyes behind Murdock...
He had no power to resist. Man and horse alike were forced back by that gaze.
The hunters appeared on the plateau near Caelid. Fear and panic spread. Demonlike knights emerged behind them...
This chain of events happened in an extremely short span of time. The hunters were afraid, travelers scrambled out of the way, and only the cavalry behind them remained cold and unmoved.
"Go! Go!"
The towering man finally came back to his senses. Enduring the bitter realization that this trip might come to nothing, he shouted at everyone around him.
"Get out of here! Find the priest!"
The Death Hunters froze for a moment before they reacted, abandoning Murdock behind them along with the spoils he carried.
"Ordo... you damn bastard... you cursed bastards, wait for me! Bastards!"
Murdock roared furiously at the man leading them. His voice echoed across the empty wilderness, and then the blade of a Poleblade sliced through his neck.
In the black sky, the gale howled as if cheering for the slaughter.
A knight clad in white armor led a dozen knights out from the shadows and looked straight ahead.
"Lady Eleonora, those hunters are about to escape into Caelid's territory," one knight said with a worried frown.
Those hunters were too close to Caelid. The Smoldering Church was not far away, and the faint sound of its bell seemed to drift through the air.
"Then let them die on the soil of Limgrave!"
Eleonora was the one in white armor. The black aura-wreathed Poleblade rested at her side, and her loose hair streamed in the wind.
The Death Hunter whose head she had just cut off was unquestionably dead. Completely dead.
A few days ago, she and these people had not been enemies. When Stormveil first welcomed these hunters, they had even been treated with courtesy.
After all, the supporters behind the hunters were no simple figures. Before the Lord returned, they had not wanted to invite more trouble.
But these people were far too sensitive to death.
There were certain matters concerning their lord that outsiders could not be allowed to know. So they had to die. That was the unanimous judgment of all the Fire Knights currently managing the city in his absence.
They had simply realized the problem a little too late, allowing the hunters to escape. Otherwise, these people would not even have made it out of Stormveil Castle.
"They were actually able to tell from the traces left behind that Death had been devoured. We never should have shown them goodwill. What a mistake," one knight sighed. "We even lost several comrades because of it."
"So now is the time to make amends," Eleonora said coldly.
"Since we've caught up with them, they should have no chance of escaping. Executioners, bury them with their favorite death!"
"Death is with us!"
The knights struck their hearts with one hand, as though offering their lives to someone.
As that chant-like cry rang out, black aura stretched from within their bodies, like a vast shadow sweeping over the land.
At that moment, even the gale seemed to fear death. The wind began to turn. With the wind behind them, the cavalry should have been getting faster, but in reality, the hunters were growing slower and slower.
The Death Hunters looked up and found themselves inside a black fog, as if death itself had wrapped around them and their bodies were dying.
A squad of knights to the west took in the entire scene. Their helmets were adorned with red plumes, and the red surcoats over their armor were embroidered with a lion motif.
Redmane Knights.
"They look like Stormveil knights. Are they attacking... no, wait. Are they hunting down the hunters who hunt death?" someone said in surprise.
"They probably offended that Tarnished Lord. Bold of them, really. But with a big figure backing them, I suppose they think they can do whatever they want," someone said with a laugh.
The knights did not know the true identity of the Death Hunters' backer. They only knew the hunters had a beastlike priest, and that their main base seemed to be on their own land.
To the knights, tolerating a powerful force within their own sphere of influence without bringing it under control was simply impossible to understand.
But every Golden Lord seemed deeply wary of the person behind them, and even their general was no exception.
"Should we help?" one knight asked.
"Now is not the time to start a war. At the very least, we don't have the authority to make that decision, unless the Stormveil Army enters our territory first," another knight said, shaking his head.
The new Lord's army of Stormveil had grown rapidly in recent years. A few minor knights like them were not qualified to provoke a war between two regions.
The beginning of a war did not only give rise to countless tales of heroes. It also meant the deaths of countless lives. Not everyone was qualified to bear that weight.
"We're not allies. We have no reason to risk starting a war to help the hunters. Besides, it's already too late to stop it now."
The knight watched as the last tall hunter was beheaded by the female knight's Poleblade, then spoke to the knight beside him.
People who liked to run wild in someone else's territory were never particularly welcome. The inability to control them was itself the greatest challenge to order.
It was just... the way they died was strange.
The instant the black fog touched them, both warhorses and hunters slowed, as though their lives were being drained away step by step. The blade taking their heads was merely a final confirmation of death.