The journey to the city's edge took me through the bustling commerce of the 6th District, the Merchant District, but the air changed as I approached the Great Walls of Caria. These were not the internal district walls; these were the monoliths that separated civilization from the lawless wild.
The line of adventurers was a sea of iron, leather, and ambition. I stood at the back, a small, hooded figure in a dark cloak. For a full hour, I moved forward inch by inch, the sun beating down on my shoulders. Around me, groups of stone and silver adventurers boasted of the monsters they would slay, their voices loud and full of a bravado I had long ago buried. I remained silent, my single green eye fixed on the massive iron-studded gates ahead.
When I finally reached the front, the gatekeeper, a grizzled veteran with a face like scarred granite, didn't even look up from his ledger.
"Young lass, toll and status card," he droned.
I placed a silver coin on the stone ledge and handed him the glowing card.
The gatekeeper picked it up with a bored flick of his wrist, but as he read the script, his hand froze. He squinted, his eyes darting to the occupation line, then to the rank.
Status Card: Updated
Name: Eirene Rynd
Rank: Gold (Evaluation Pending)
Magic Power: S-rank
Magic Mastery: S-rank
Swordsmanship: A-rank
Marksmanship: A-rank
Battle IQ: D-rank
Job Occupation: Bounty Hunter (S-rank)
Affiliation: LKBA (Branch 1)
He looked up at me, his gaze sweeping over my small frame. He saw the empty sleeve where my arm had been, the jagged glasgow smile peeking from beneath my hood, and the cold, emerald intensity of my eye. His bored expression shattered into one of profound shock and a sudden, stinging pity.
"S-rank… a girl like you? Alone?"
He looked at the long line behind me, then back at the mutilated girl who held the highest authority a hunter could possess. He didn't ask for a destination. He knew that someone with my rank wasn't going out for a simple stroll, I was going out to change the map.
Feeling a surge of uncharacteristic respect, the gatekeeper slammed his fist against his chest in a knight's salute. He bellowed to the guards on the winch.
"Clear the way! Make a path for the Hunter!"
The massive gates groaned, chains rattling as it ascended. The crowd of adventurers fell silent, parting like a tide as they realized who, or what, was walking among them.
I stepped through the tunnel of the gatehouse, the shadows of the thick walls momentarily swallowing me. As I emerged on the other side, the wind of the Southern Plains hit me. It was vast, golden, and smelled of dry grass and distant ozone.
I was outside the cage. Somewhere in that endless horizon, Cameron Gal was waiting. I didn't look back at the walls of Caria. I simply adjusted the strap of my purse, felt the weight of my blood-wings beneath my cloak, and began the long walk into the grass.
"Eirene, you should check on the map you bought yesterday, maybe you should need a location first than wandering alone." Plasma said through my thoughts
The wind whipped across the plains, tugging at my hood as I studied the map one last time. The Caria Mountains loomed in the distance like the jagged teeth of a sleeping titan. To reach the ruins where Cameron Gal was rumored to be hiding, I had to cross the southern peaks. For anyone else, this would mean days of grueling, oxygen-deprived climbing and the risk of falling into bottomless crevasses.
Mount Caria is located at the southern most points of Caria City, it is located at the edge of the Southern Plains, as from my knowledge from my previous journey from Rebelbub Village, Mount Caria is considered the third largest mountain range in Andromeda, similar to the Himalayas.
But for me, the mountains were just a flight path. I don't need to climb the mountains with one hand, I definitely use my blood wings to fly off the peak.
The problem was the sun. Even out here, far from the city walls, the sky was too open. My Blood Wings were a beacon of S-rank magic, if a wandering scout or a merchant caravan saw a winged silhouette of crimson ichor soaring over the peaks, the Bureau would have questions I couldn't answer. I needed the cover of midnight.
I checked the position of the sun. It was high noon. I had six hours of daylight to burn.
First, I approached a weathered supply stall huddled near the outer gate's shadow. I didn't need much, but I knew Cameron Gal's head wouldn't fit in the same small bag as Cletus's. I purchased a set of heavy, reinforced burlap bags and a coil of strong rope, paying with the silver I had left. The merchant looked at my missing arm and my scarred face with a mixture of fear and confusion, but he took my coin without a word.
With my supplies secured, I turned my gaze toward a lonely, lopsided building sitting a few hundred yards down the main trade path, The Wayfarer's Rest Tavern.
It was a rough-looking place, built from dark timber and stone, serving as the final stop for travelers heading into the deep south or the first stop for those lucky enough to return. It was the perfect place to disappear for a few hours.
I walked toward the tavern, my boots crunching on the dry earth. As I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the smell of roasted malt, sweat, and cheap stew washed over me. The interior was dim, lit only by a few flickering lanterns and the light fighting through grimy windows. A few low-rank adventurers sat in the corners, nursing bruised egos and watered-down ale.
I didn't knew low ranked adventurers were edgy in Caria, in Town Allure, these same ranked adventurers were kind and more of a human being, here in Caria, they look like a classmate of mine who sat at the very corner of the classroom, too much edginess to be exact.
I kept my head down, the shadow of my hood concealing the glasgow smile and my vibrant green eye. I found a secluded booth in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, a place where the shadows felt thick enough to hide even a bounty hunter.
I sat down, placing my purse and the new burlap bags on the bench beside me. The barkeep greets me as a regular, even in Town Allure, there is one part of the tavern where the barkeep is always kind.
The heat from the wine was still buzzing in my ears, making the world feel soft and dangerously distant. As a light drinker myself would puke even a scent of alcohol, realizing I couldn't hunt a monster while intoxicated, I signaled the bar keep again, sliding a few copper coins across the wood.
"How do you want, young lass."
Realizing that I was mute and frail, the barkeep took my copper coins and made a dish based from the cost.
"Mute? Since you have five copper coins, I decided to treat you as a survivor. I would pick the cheapest meal of mine, do you agree lass?"
I nodded.
A few minutes later, a wooden bowl of beef stew was placed before me, steam rising in thick, savory clouds.
As the scent hit me, I froze. It wasn't the generic, salty smell of traveler's food. It was rich, earthy, and sweet with root vegetables, the exact aroma that used to drift through the halls of the Flower Manor on rainy afternoons. It smelled like Sinel's cooking.
I picked up the spoon with my right hand, my movements slow and deliberate. As I took the first bite, the flavor exploded across my dulled senses. For a moment, the bounty hunter within me didn't feel so hollow. I wasn't Eirene the S-rank monster, I was Eirene the girl, sitting at a long mahogany table with Miera, waiting for Sinel to bring out the fresh bread.
It was a cruel comfort. Each swallow was a reminder of everything I had lost, the warmth of the manor, the lightness of having two arms, and the simplicity of a life where Immoral Knights were just stories told to keep children from wandering too far.
I ate the stew in silence, my single green eye shimmering with a moisture I refused to let fall. The food grounded me, the protein and fat working to counteract the wine's fire. I felt the strength returning to my limbs, the evaporating sensation in my left toes finally settling into a solid, dull ache.
I finished the bowl and leaned back, watching the shadows outside the tavern window grow long and thin. The nostalgia was a poison of its own, but it gave me a new kind of fuel. I wasn't just hunting Cameron Gal for a manor or for gold. I was hunting him because he represented the end of the world that made that stew possible.
"Funny Eirene, the once battle-hardened girl suddenly became a heart warming person." Plasma said
"Shut…up." I muttered through my non-existent tongue
As I drank a cup of cold water, a man arrived with a heavy, rhythmic clank of plate armor. It was a uniform of a capital knight, similar to White Flower back in Town Allure.
He slid into the booth beside me without an invitation, the scent of expensive polish and ozone clinging to his uniform. He looked like the textbook definition of a hero, black, fluffy hair that seemed untouched by the wind of the plains, and deep black irises that held a strange, calm weight.
He ordered the same beef stew I had struggled with, then turned his gaze toward me.
"Greetings, young lass. A regular here?"
I tried to shake my head, to signal I was leaving, but as I opened my mouth to attempt a sound, the jagged glasgow smile and the hollow void where my tongue should be made it impossible to form words. I let out a soft, airy hiss instead.
He didn't flinch. He leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he studied the horrific scars on my face.
"Mute? Huh. Based on these scars of yours, you're no common traveler. You're an experienced soldier... or something grimmer."
Without waiting for a prompt, he flicked his own status card onto the table.
Status Card:
Name: Nautilus Cotton
Rank: Stone
Magic Power: B-rank
Magic Mastery: C-rank
Swordsmanship: B-rank
Marksmanship: D-rank
Battle IQ: C-rank
Job Occupation: Capital Knight
Affiliation: CKBA (Branch 2)
My internal eye flickered. He was technically a Capital Knight, but his stats were mediocre, barely enough to hold a post in the safer districts. However, the CKBA badge was real. He represented the elite law enforcement of the inner circles, the ones who usually looked down on lowly bounty hunters.
I hesitated, then pulled my own card from my purse and slid it across the wood.
Nautilus picked it up. As his eyes hit the glowing violet S-rank, his posture shifted. He didn't look pitying anymore; he looked cautious.
"An S-rank Bounty Hunter, eh? You're a rarity, girl. Especially with... well, everything the world has taken from you."
He stood up abruptly, leaving his wine glass nearly full.
"Meet me at the Capital Knight Bureau Association in the 8th District if you finish your job, I have a word for you. Something regarding the occupation you carry."
Before I could respond, he was gone, the tavern door swinging shut behind him.
I stared at the unfinished wine. The 8th District was the seat of power in Caria, the place where the nobility and the High Knights lived. If a CKBA officer wanted to talk to a mute, mutilated bounty hunter, it wasn't for a social call.
I looked toward the window. The violet sky had turned to a deep, bruised indigo. Midnight. The sun was gone, the plains were silent, and the tavern was emptying.
I stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. I pulled my hood low, adjusted the shawl over my wings, and stepped out into the biting night air. The tavern lights faded behind me as I walked toward the base of the mountains. It was time to stop being Eirene the girl who eats stew, and become the S-rank shadow that hunts the stars.
Suddenly, Plasma muttered after I stepped into the doorstep.
"The night is young, Eirene."