Keira loosed another arrow with a faint hissing whistle. A meaty thwack followed by a pained scream filled the gloomy Forest air, announcing her hit. Ducking back behind cover, Keira sprinted away at an angle, zigzagging to confuse her would be pursuers. It was good she did.

Rocks and crude spears of sharpened wood thudded into the frozen ground where she'd just been as angry howls filled the air. Somewhere behind her she could hear the roars of pain and meaty sounds of weapons hitting flesh that told her the battle still raged, but that wasn't her concern. Her concern was keeping the enemy reinforcements occupied and chasing shadows.

Ducking behind a stand of bare saplings, Keira channeled mana into her legs as she slung her bow over her shoulder and pulled out a pair of climbing claws before she leaped into the trees, her own take on Jun's preferred strategy. She might not be able to fling herself around like her teammate, but she was fast and knew how to climb.

Nearly as fast as a normal man could run, Keira scrambled up into the tree and hid herself in a shadowy bit between two branches. Securing a length of rope to the trunk, she dropped it down to the Forest floor and readied her bow, holding several arrows ready in her nocking hand.

Inside her chest, her heart hammered with adrenaline and impatience as she listened to the sounds of battle in the distance, but outside she was as still as stone, her breathing low and slow while she waited. She could feel them vaguely in the distance with her nascent mana sense steadily working their way closer. She wished her mana senses were better, but she wasn't a mage and had no desire to become one. A few utility spells were well and good, but she preferred to rely on the strength of her body and her skill at arms, not magic. No, as important as mana sense seemed to be, it wasn't worth abandoning her path just to improve it. It would strengthen on its own as she got more familiar with it anyways, and that suited her just fine. She was a hunter, she needed to be patient.

Keira could feel her targets slow in their pursuit, tantalizingly close but still not in sight in the gloom. A inquiring thought questioned if they might have given up the pursuit to return to the battle, something that she could not allow to happen. Perhaps Keira had been too successful in shaking them and they thought to turn back and aid their brethren, but Keira would never know since they still stepped into her view.

Carefully nocking her first arrow, Keira focused on the shadowy figures in the gloom. Three hulking figures circled around one of the trees Keira purposefully passed by earlier, likely smelling her scent from the loose hairs she'd scattered. She let the trackers go unmolested. They weren't her prey. More joined the first three and Keira could hear them grunting and thumping their chests in what passed for conversation among their kind, and she couldn't help but imagine what they were saying.

"We must return to aid the tribe!" one said with a grunting howl and two thumps of his chest.

"No, find the prey! She is near! I can smell her…" another snarled in reply.

"She killed some of us already. It's clear its a trap!" the third said, pounding its chest and the tree.

"We hunt the killer then return! Our tribe is strong, they shall not fall!" another roared.

"Enough," a fifth said in a short bark, coming out of the gloom with a lumbering gait. The fur of its head was decorated in feathers that glowed faintly as a ball of flame appeared before it, flickering and casting strange shadows with faint light. "Find the creature preying upon us and kill it, then we return to aid the tribe. Now!" It roared, the ball of flame growing in size as it did.

Whatever they said in truth, if it meant anything at all, Keira didn't know, nor did she care. What mattered in the moment was the feathered head she saw join the howling group of trackers. Her target. The Gloomrilla's shaman. This was the first clear shot she had on the creature; one whose magic combined with the Gloomrillas' brawn and cunning made them an outsized threat. But ambushes were the great equalizer.

Checking her aim one last time, Keira smoothly drew and released one arrow after another, rapidly filling the air with a flight of three arrows. She stayed in her place just long enough to hear the meaty thwacks and gurgling whimper and watch as the feather headed one collapsed to the ground with a trio of arrows in its chest, then she stowed her bow and slid down the rope, running off in another direction as more stones and crude spears rained down around her.

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"Good, got their attention again," she said to herself with a smirk. Just because her target was dead didn't mean the game was over. She was just getting started.

"Hah!" Cian yelled, breathing out forcefully as he thrust his spear forward along with his mana. His breath mingled with his mana, amplifying his blow with the Northern Winds in the third form of the [Howling Gale of the North]. The steel head of his weapon took his foe in the chest, the Gloomrilla's chest exploding as the Northern Winds forced itself into the stab wound.

The force of the Northern Winds pushed the corpse of his foe off his spear, allowing him to advance and strike again with the seventh form, a pair of warding slashes that ripped and sliced at his opponents shins before following up with a sweep of the haft to trip them. Bestial roars of pain and fury surrounded him as more of the Gloomrillas' troop fell to his blade.

The battlefield behind him was littered with the dead and dying monsters, but a fallen tree did not concern the Northern Winds. All that mattered was the Forest that remained defiant to its gusts, but they too would one day weaken and fall.

Like a winter storm, Cian advanced in a gale of blows, pinpoint thrusts taking creatures in the chest, shoulder, or neck, while wide slashes severed nerves and tendons. Several of the creatures, uncaring of their own lives, charged in close to grapple him, but like the Northern Winds he would not be restrained. Moving fluidly, Cian wove around the monsters, the haft of his spear serving to trip and grapple them as he moved forward, their bodies flying ahead of him to smash into more of their kind.

A crude spear flew towards him, only deflected at the last moment by a wind-backed parry. The screech of sharpened wood on metal filled the air as the crude weapon scraped against his pauldron and slammed into the frozen soil beside him. Bracing his spear against his back, Cian whirled about in a wide one-handed slash to gain a bit of space, his free hand closing around the crude spear. Completing his turn, Cian launched the weapon back at its owner with the force of a Gale to lodge in the monster's belly.

Putting the Chucker out of his mind, Cian continued to advance with the merciless wrath of winter until all that remained was the Gloomrilla Alpha. Nightwing feathers decorated the fur of its head as it roared and beat its chest in challenge, a challenge Cian did not return. For what was the howling of a mere monster in the face of the fury of the Northern WInds?

Cian wished he could say that the battle was long and glorious, but the truth was that the Alpha, despite having an animal's cunning and bestial strength, lacked skill. The first form of the [Howling Gale of the North] took the Alpha's arm with a basic thrust. A reflexive backhand pushed Cian back a step, but his padded armor did well to distribute the force of the monster's blow and did little more than slow him down . The Alpha barely dodged another thrust at its throat, but the Northern Winds still blasted furiously into its eyes, briefly blinding it with tears as Cian moved into the fourth form, an upward one-handed cut with his backspike as he closed in.

The Alpha recoiled from the superficial pain of his strike and didn't see how close Cian got. The stench of the Alpha's musk and blood filled his nose as he took a deep breath in. In close, Cian drew his dagger with his right hand and stabbed it down into the Alpha's chest, exhaling as he injected his mana through the dagger and deep into the Alpha's heart. The Alpha's roar became a hacking cough as it spat a bloody mist into Cian's face, before it finally collapsed.

Taking another deep breath, Cian scanned the battlefield one last time with all of his senses, checking that it was clear of anything that could hurt him. Dead and dying Gloomrillas surrounded him, most by his hand but a few slumped with arrows sprouting from their chest. Finding no immediate threats, he plucked his dagger from the Alpha's chest, wiping it clean on the creature's fur before sheathing it. With all the monsters near him dead or disabled, it was simple enough for him to find those that still breathed with his mana senses and mercifully end them.

"Cian," his temporary master Shiori said, addressing him from behind as he stabbed another dying Gloomrilla through the chest with his spear. Calmly prying his weapon from the monster's chest, Cian turned around and looked at the catkin, his hand stretching out to accept the scroll she already held out for him. Leaning his weapon against his shoulder, Cian unrolled and read the bounty, though he wasn't surprised by the contents.

"Silver Bounty: Gloomrilla Investigation

Several teams reported traces of a Gloomrilla Troop in the vicinity. Gloomrillas are rarely seen outside of the deep Forest beyond the first mountains and not much is known about their strength.

Assess the threat level of the Gloomrillas by bringing back samples of their blood and fur for analysis. Bonus reward for live specimens.

Recommended Party: 3 low Silver

Reward: 60 gold

Bonus Reward: 15 gold per live specimen."

Keira peaked over his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere. "Wow, we're not getting the bonus are we?

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