The hunt that begun at dawn had already been extended past twilight. The last remaining traces of hot orange light slowly receded, as the shadows took their place over the dry forest, of trees without leaves and soil without grass. The hunters, still energetic, had finally managed to corner their prey.
A Crimson Beast. Hovering over 23 feet tall, supported by terrorizing muscles and covered by a dark brown fur, sturdier than most metals. Standing proudly over 6 imposing legs with large circular hooves, its march is unbreakable. Its elongated head ends in a pair of great sharp teeth, which extend themselves from its lower maw all the way over the height of its yellow eyes. Its name came from the way it dilacerates its prey, covering itself with their blood. A rank XX monster, which would be enough to feed all of the Randuinn tribe for the rest of the month.
Two dozens of hunters work together in order to guide the beast to their designated hunting spots, where more hunters lie in wait. That way, they can ambush it with coordinated attacks.
On the long run, the beast will be weakened, while also minimizing the risk for the hunters. It's a slow and tiresome process, in which a single mistake could mean someone's life. But it's also their best option to avoid starvation.
The hunters were divided in two separate groups. Those who provoked and baited the beast around, with bows and arrows. And those who ambushed it, using spears and taking advantage of the beast's own power in order to impale it.
Knowing how to maintain a safe distance, how to disengage and how to cover for their fellow tribesman. It was a craft trained since childhood and perfected through generations.
They are wood elves, recognized by their characteristically pointed ears. A dark camouflaged painting, designed for the hunt, covers their bodies. They wear light leather armors and use bone weapons, made with materials taken from other Crimson Beasts.
Their armors would not offer much protection against its direct attacks, but allowed for better movement during the hunt, and could soften certain attacks that would otherwise be fatal. The group leader could be recognized by the ornamental fur cape used over their armor.
It was time to finish the hunt, before the skies turn completely dark. The hunters were finally preparing to organize a final large-scale attack.
This final moment required the most caution. In its final moments, the dying beast became feral, aggressive, and even more deadly. Only veterans were allowed to participate in this final step, and even then many of the most experienced had already lost their lives at this point.
The girl, with her amber eyes, had been observing this whole process with apprehension, fear, and, specially, hunger. Unfortunately, since she was not part of the Randuinn Tribe, she would not benefit from the hunt. After all, she was but a prisoner, forced to accompany the hunters. In theory, it was so she could be kept under vigilance before she was exiled. In truth, she knew they would probably use her as bait if the hunt began turning sour…
"Hunters, group up!", the leader ordered in a potent voice.
"Yes, Sir!", the others answered firmly, understanding the command to prepare for a final confront with the beast.
The girl, however, had no idea about the meaning of the command and simply observed as the hunters started moving in a 'V' formation, in an attempt to surround the beast. That is, until she suddenly had her rust colored hair grabbed and pulled by a young member of the Randuinn.
"Don't just stand there, you're to follow as well!", he screamed in a nervous voice.
The girl felt as if she too was being treated as a dangerous and irrational monster. Her captors refused to approach her normally, or even talk to her, and used these crude methods to order her around, such as pull on her hair or clothes, or even stab her with the base of their spears. The girl had heard from the adults of her own tribe not to go near to Randuinn, but she didn't expect such treatment simply for trying to cross over a part of their territory. Despite the proximity of their tribes, it seems they had not even a spec of basic knowledge over the physiology of succubae.
Just because she was a succubus, it did not mean anything bad would happen with anyone who treated her with any minimal amount of respect. It was as if they thought any contact with her skin would transmit some sort of disease; or as if someone who looked her in the eyes would be hypnotized; she was even repressed while trying to explain herself, as if her mere voice would be capable of harming someone.
She grew increasingly irritated with this prejudiced young man, who, instead of simply calling her out, preferred to pull on her hair, hurting her in the process.
However, the girl is aware of her current predicament, and simply obeys. She tries her best to follow the hunters, not as if she has a choice as they almost drag her around.
They soon corner the beast over a clearing, with a large stone in its center. Judging by the diverse marks of sulks, slashes and dried blood on the rocks, it seemed to be their usual spot for dealing killing blows.
The girl was tired and hungry. Obtaining food in the territories of the Demon Kingdom was an arduous quest. With mostly barren soils and extreme climates, even the monsters adapted to living here can be extremely dangerous. Because of that, even before she had been captured, two days had already passed since she last had a decent meal.
She ate only whatever she could forage in these dead woods. And after she got captured, the people from the Randuinn Tribe had nothing to share with their prisoner... But that was obvious to her, considering she had been exiled from her own tribe for consuming precious resources, without being able to contribute in a significant manner.
She approaches the beast, surrounded by the hunters.
Her tiredness, hunger and all of her train of thought evaporates as soon as she observes it from up close.
Hurt, breathless… and feral. Even with diverse arrows and even some spears stuck to its flesh, the Crimson Beast observes those who left it in such a state. Far from being close to death, the girl has the impression that it was simply preparing itself to massacre everyone surrounding it, which unfortunately included her. With a simple look, she knows she does not have the necessary training to defend against its charge.
If even the hunters, with their Master levels of Mana Expression, need this much caution so they do not have to directly face the beast. Then what could she, a mere Intermediary level, possibly do? She would probably be crushed just by the aftershock of its steps…
Even with her Advanced level of Mana Conversion, she did not think that her specialties of ice and lighting could even tickle the skin behind its fur…
Everyone in her tribe knew how to recognize the roar from a Crimson Beast, and they all knew the common sense was to stay far, far away. But the girl does not have that choice right now. She stares at the beast from up close, and all of her thoughts, emotions and senses are replaced by utter terror. She cannot even notice as the young elf continues to pull her hair and move her into position.
The hunters do not even bother with her, or rather; they too do not have the luxury to focus their attention on anything other than the beast in front of them.
For a moment, the woods turn silent once again. Without the noises of the beast's roars and heavy steps, or the screams of the hunters as they communicate orders and information, or the howling of arrows and spears as they cut through the air. The hunters stare at the cornered beast, and it stares back.
And then… It charges.
Without other options, the beast simply advances at one of the hunters. The others position their lances and pierce it, trying to land a fatal blow.
It is impressive how it manages to disregard its flesh being torn apart as it continues its charge. And the hunters do not remain unscathed either. The targeted hunter bravely thrusted their spear, but also failed to kill the beast and had their chest impaled by its fang. Some of the other hunters also got struck by its body, others managed to roll away from it. But the beast continues uninterrupted, dragging the poor hunter, who still clings to life with last ditch effort…
The problem is, it seems the girl was chosen as the next target in its path. Impending doom seems to shake her off from her previous stupor, as she quickly tries to get out of its way. But she is held down by the young hunter, with a hardened grip, showing no intention of moving or letting her go.
Only after a precious moment, does the young elf release her and positions to strike the beast head on. As if he alone would be able to finish the beast, when all of the others failed to do so. At this point, the girl won't be able to avoid the charge anymore.
Desperate, she does the only thing she could think of, and she uses Mana Conversion to freeze the ground beneath one of the beast's hooves. Something that had been an annoyance to her teachers now manages to make the beast loose its footing just enough so that its fang misses the girl – by a hair's breadth!
She watches stunned as the beast's body rushes over her as it continues its run. As if by a miracle, she avoided its fangs and managed to not be crushed by its hooves.
The young hunter is enraged by the girl's actions, as it seems they caused his spear to miss the beast's vital spot, uselessly being stuck on a side of its body.
Luckily, the beast seems to be unfazed by this new aggression and does not turn back to take revenge. It continues its charge to a part of the woods were the trees still have some of their foliage remaining, as if gripping to life, just as the beast does now. The beast disappears behind their dark cover.
The hunters watch apprehensively as the beasts goes. At its current state, it wasn't fast enough they wouldn't be able to follow it if they gave chase. But it seems they had another reason for not doing so.
The sounds of its heavy steps remain clear for some good few moments, until a sudden agonizing screech replaces them.
Soon after, there is a tremor as something heavy hits the ground. Something flies out of the shadows, tracing a long arc, before finally hitting the ground in front of the apprehensive hunters.
It is the head of the beast, separated from its body, and the hunter still impaled by its fang, wheezing heavily.
With the remainder of their strength, they turn to the other hunters and say "Car… Cha… Ra… Run…", in a low and strained voice. After these last words, their head drops lifelessly.
The other hunters begin to exchange hushed whispers, some angry, others fearful, all perplexed.
The girl has no idea of what is going on right now.
What is a Car Cha Ra? She questions herself under her breath.
She wasn't able to understand what was going on. She had never heard of such a creature. And wasn't able to associate in her head that the unsuccessful hunt that had lasted for the whole day was completed by it in a mere instant.
"Carcará!", she is then surprised by an agonizing scream, a seemingly masculine voice, from the shadows.
Agonizing not because of its tone, volume or intensity, one could even say there was a certain musicality to it. However, agonizing because of the complete sensation of despair and pain that its transmitter seemed to be communicating. It didn't seem to be a sound made by a different monster, but by another sentient being, a Demon just like the girl and the hunters.
With that scream, the girl finally understood what 'Car Cha Ra' must have been referring to.
The hunters discuss among themselves whether they should retreat, or try to go after their lost prey. The leader calmly orders their retreat, however the younger hunters, in an outburst of emotions complain, trying to convince everyone to go after what was theirs.
Who is that? A traveler? Why do the hunters feel so apprehensive over a single person? The girl was in shock, after a near death experience, and facing a new situation of which she had no understanding.
It is then that the sound of approaching steps can be heard, followed by that of something being dragged on the ground.
The sounds slowly grow louder as they come closer. The hunters turn silent.
From the shadows, a person emerges, dragging the beast's lifeless body behind. Without showing any form of recognition to the surrounding people, they simply release the body, before reaching for the beast's head, shaking it a little before the body stuck to it is released.
"Pega, mata e come", they say, in a silent, resolute tone.
This time, the girl can see their mouth moving with a grim expression on their face.
Words? Another language? The girl ponders. Did she also hear a certain tune behind them? Some sort of song?
Dark hair, long and unkempt. A beard grown carelessly and showing some blank spots, a typical trait of a young adult. A battered and torn cape, revealing a broken, rusted armor underneath. The girl cannot recognize what kind of demon he is, as he lacks any definitive traits.
He places the head over his shoulder. He holds a large cutlass in his other hand, also rusted and with several chips at the edge. Blood is still dripping from it.
He holsters the cutlass at his hip, unafraid of the hunters nervously staring at him, and holds the body of the beast once more, intending to drag it back to the shadows he came from.
What impresses the girl the most is not the empty gaze of the man's red eyes, but the silent tears that flow from them. Looking over his terrifying – and deplorable – figure, the girl could not help but question what kinds of experiences could lead someone to end up like that.