The Divine Hunter

Roy stayed in a groggy state for two days. His fever went down on the third, and he woke up. Moore and Susie heaved a sigh of relief. Melitele knew how worried they were over the last few nights, especially after they saw One-Eyed Jack and Thompson injured and bloodied. They thought they’d lose Roy again.

Susie sat on the haystack and held his hand, her chubby face filled with love. “Thompson told us what happened in the cemetery. You did your best, my son. Don’t dwell too much on the matter, and don’t even think you can fight that monster. Just rest up. We’d be devastated if we lost you.”

Guilt welled up within Roy as he looked at his parents, who were concerned about him. They weren’t getting any younger, but Roy remembered them taking turns tending to him when he was still feverish. They’d feed him softened food, keeping him healthy. He knew they must have been deprived of sleep for a few days.

Roy knew his parents were worried for him, but he had no choice. The Northern War was still a few years away, but there was already a monster lurking in the cemetery, threatening the village’s peace.

Dammit. This is bad. The disasters and dangers of the world wouldn’t wait for him to grow. He had to strike out on his own if he wanted a chance to survive. Roy didn’t want to go through the helplessness he felt when he faced the monster again. “What did the chief say, dad?”

“He went to ask the ruler for help two days ago.”

Moore sounded uncertain. They knew the ruler of Lower Posada was no kind person. He wouldn’t care about a death or two in a rural village like Kaer. It was normal for people to die. The only time he showed any enthusiasm was during the tax season, where he’d send his soldiers to make sure everyone paid their dues. But if any monsters were to show up, they’d be the first to run. The most he would do was send someone to ask about the situation and forget about it.

“The people that went with him posted a notice on the city’s bulletin board. A witcher might take the job in a month or two. They’ll come eventually. Don’t worry.”

Roy sighed, still feeling uneasy. He was stiff from lying on the bed for two days, and he wanted to walk around the village, maybe even visit Jack in his inn. However, Susie and Moore insisted that he lay back down, and Roy only managed to get out at noon.

When he came out, Kaer felt different. There was barely anyone in the streets, and those who were going around were in a hurry, worry hanging on their faces. The villagers who mingled and chatted were nowhere to be seen, and the fields outside looked forlorn, for nobody toiled them.

Most of the villagers were hiding in their homes, only taking a nervous peep outside once in a while. Everyone was worried that the monster in the cemetery would come to the village, so they stopped working for the time being. As Roy went around the village, he heard the cries of babies and the sound of people arguing in the rickety houses. An eerie chill ran up his spine as he felt fear and tension hang low in the air.

The abandoned, cobwebbed bulletin board in the village center was cleaned, and a notice for a job hung there. Roy couldn’t read it, for he was illiterate.

When he came to the inn, Jack was sitting before the bar counter, alone and spaced out.

A clean, white bandage covered the wounds on his waist, and the strong scent of herbs filled the air. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot and sunken, and he looked harried. Losing in an instant the good friend he’d known for decades took its toll on him. He aged ten years overnight, and his hair grayed further. The proud gleam in his good eye was gone, replaced by a deep, dark void.

“You’re here, child. Feeling better?”

“Yes.” Roy sat beside him. “Much better.” Then he trailed off. He didn’t know what he should say, for they deserted their friends that night.

“Here, have a drink.” Agony flashed in his eyes, and he poured two glasses of wine. The strong scent of alcohol assailed Roy’s nose, and he knew it wasn’t the sweet fruit wine he usually had. “My drinking buddy’s gone. Ain’t nobody gonna guzzle that dwarven liquor and play Gwent matches with me anymore.”

“To Seeger.”

Roy was shaken, and he gulped all the liquor down. He almost choked on it, but he endured the alcohol. It numbed his pain and sadness, but it also lit a fire within him, and he came to a decision. “One more. This time for Fletcher.” Roy took a deep breath and paused. “And that snotty brat.”

Jack didn’t stop Roy until he got red from the alcohol, and they spoke about the recent happenings.

The chief had sent someone to the military camp in Lower Posada’s city to ask for help, but unsurprisingly, the request was rejected. Roy had expected that. The military wouldn’t get involved unless a large scale monster attack or bandit invasion broke out.

Susie and Moore had also kept something else from him a secret. Four Kaer villagers had died.

Aside from Fletcher, Brandon, and Seeger, another villager went missing over the last two days. The young man, in all his naivety, went to the cemetery alone in the evening, and never returned. He must have encountered that monster, and most people would only get slaughtered by it.

Roy wanted to say something, but after seeing how much of a wreck Jack was, he swallowed his words and left the inn.

He used to be a game addict, and he knew what that creature in the cemetery was. It was trapped in their dimension by the Conjunction of the Spheres. In fact, he knew of all the monsters that had been trapped in their dimension by that event. After recalling the incident that occurred, Roy was fairly certain that the monster lurking in the cemetery was a grave hag. It was a monster who would suck the marrow from its prey with its unbelievably long tongue. If they’d devoured all the available corpses, some of the more aggressive ones would begin hunting in human territory. They would capture humans and bury them alive, only consuming them when the bodies had rotted.

That was besides the point. The point was, Roy knew the grave hag’s weakness. Grave hags usually built their nests near cemeteries, and the one in the eastern cemetery took over Granbell’s cabin. Their weakness was the sun, making them feeble during the day.

But even if he told that to the villagers, they would most likely not buy it. Even if they did, it was impossible for him to explain how he knew the monster’s weakness. If he couldn’t cobble up a team of ten or more, fighting a weakened grave hag would still be a losing battle.

***

Seeger and Fletcher had no family in the village who could inherit their belongings. Susie didn’t count, for she was thrice removed.

Their belongings were in the chief’s custody. Once their deaths were confirmed, Roy knew part of it would be taken by the chief, part by the soldiers for the ruler, and part for the reward for the witcher. A hundred crowns for the job, huh? The money and precious belongings were taken away by the chief, but they still had some other items in their houses.

Roy snuck into Seeger’s house and looted it. There were fifty bolts, a steel sword that was mostly new, a torch, oil, and a few coils of sturdy rope. Roy kept it all in his inventory. And when he went to Fletcher’s place, Roy took dozens of pounds of meat and put it in his inventory too. Everything was kept fresh there, and the food would never rot.

Much to his delight, he even managed to find a small bag of yellow powder in a cabinet. Fletcher used the powder as an anesthetic. A nail’s amount would paralyze a two-hundred-pound creature in a few minutes after it was fed the powder with water. It was also the key to his plan.

His inventory space was filled after putting those items in. Finally, Roy took the short blade Fletcher used over the years to butcher countless animals. It was as long as Roy’s forearm, and it was curved at the end. The edge was ivory, but the blade and spine was blackish brown. It was the dried blood of the animals he’d butchered over the years. No matter how anyone cleaned it, the blood couldn’t be washed away.

Uncle Fletcher, Seeger, and snotty brat. If I have the chance, I swear, I will cut that bastard’s head off with this blade, Roy promised silently. I will avenge all of you.

The battle with the wolf pack and grave hag changed Roy. His brush with death made him realize that he was no longer in the safe world he used to be in. Any attempt at peace by running away from the danger would only cause untold misery. After Fletcher’s death, Roy lost his stable EXP income, and he decided to go with the faster, riskier way to gain it.

***

The cemetery was located east of the village. The grave hag should’ve been consuming the corpses of the four dead villagers for some time, and not have recently left the cemetery to hunt, Roy thought.

However, Roy wanted to be careful. Instead of hunting east, he decided to hunt west, in the forest not far from the village.

He staked out in the daytime to observe his surroundings. He then picked a tree and prepared for his hunt. When Susie and Moore were sound asleep at night, Roy tiptoed out of his home. After the night patrol had gone to the other side of the village, he snuck out and went to the tree he saw during the day.

Roy hung raw meat smeared with anesthetics on a branch. He made it bloody and made sure the scent would go for miles, all so his prey could get attracted easily. When he was done, Roy scampered up the tree and lit the torch embedded in the branches. He took Gabriel out, loaded it, closed his eyes, and waited in silence.

Roy kept taking deep breaths throughout his watch. He was worried he might attract a horror of the night, but he was also worried it might end up being a wild goose chase. Even so, he had to go on. He couldn’t go back after coming so far.

As the moon crept above the forest, its silvery light shone upon a young, resolved face. Roy pursed his lips and slowed his breathing. After another hour of nervous wait, he heard the barks of dogs from afar, and he knew his plan had worked.

A group of starving, rabid dogs darted out from the bushes and fought for the meat tied on the branch. Their drool spewed everywhere, tainting the ground with their bloodied saliva as they clawed at one another for more meat. Two of the dogs even started tearing into each other for it. When they finished everything, they bared their bloody fangs at Roy, who was on the tree, and barked furiously.

Roy was annoyed by the beasts. He thought they might’ve had rabies, though he wasn’t afraid of them. They couldn’t climb the tree anyway.

“Come and bite me if you can, curs,” he mocked, looking down from the branch he was on. At the same time, he pulled the crossbow’s trigger and shot at the beasts. Roy even put some of the anesthetic on the bolts to make sure he made the kill.

Shooting under those conditions was exactly like a few days earlier, when he was protected by the villagers. Roy had the high ground, and after the battles from that night, he’d grown as a combatant, and he didn’t tremble as he held the crossbow. His accuracy increased, and he killed two of the dogs with three bolts.

When the remaining dogs realized something was wrong, they wanted to escape, but the anesthetic had already started taking effect. Before they could make ten feet, the beasts had already fallen.

Roy didn’t climb down to claim his kill. Instead, he stayed on the tree and made his shots until three messages about EXP gain showed up on his character sheet. That meant the dogs were dead.

‘Level 1 (123/500).’

“50 EXP. So dogs provide the same EXP as wolves. Well, this is quicker than being a butcher’s apprentice. Eight more times like this, and I’ll have leveled up.”

As Roy looked at the bodies covered in bolts, a feeling of depression weighed down on him. Alas, no pain, no gain. At least his actions weren’t for nothing.

He rested for a while on the tree. After confirming the coast was clear, Roy came down to retrieve his bolts and tools before dragging the carcasses of the dogs onto the hard ground beside him. He piled them up, smeared them in oil, burned them, and went back to the village.

***

His operation went without a hitch. The beasts surprised him, but it was nothing to be worried about. Roy even had time to wipe the stench of blood off him.

Over the next few weeks, Roy hunted every night. He’d have beasts coming for his bait once every three days during the first two weeks.

He saw different animals coming for the meat. Dogs, wolves, foxes, boars, and even bears. The bears towered over all the beasts Roy had ever seen. It came for the food and went back into the murky forest quickly, and Roy didn’t give chase. Each of those beasts provided ten EXP at most. After using up the meat in his inventory space, he carved some out of his prey.

Thanks to him being the butcher’s apprentice, cutting meat came easily.

His hunt went smoothly in the beginning, but eventually, he ran into trouble. Even though he would change hunting spots every time he set a trap, the beasts started to stay away from his bait after half a month. Roy had even scoured the entire forest from north to south.

After two weeks, the frequency went down from once in three days to once in five. Apparently, the beasts had their guards up. His EXP gaining speed saw a decline, but eventually, Roy filled his EXP bar a month later, after he shot one final dog dead.

***