The Divine Hunter

A crossbow bolt hit one of the poachers’ head. He was in the vanguard and the nearest poacher to the witcher, and yet he couldn’t cross that little distance and hit his enemy. Rage and fear filled his eyes as he fell back with a thud.

The second poacher found his neck pierced by a bolt. He let out a guttural roar before falling forward into the cauldron and spilling the cold leftovers on the ground.

Everyone else advanced, swinging their swords, hammers, and morningstars, but the witcher didn’t take one step back. He spun, beautifully evading a blade that was about to hit him. His blade spun with him, drawing an arc and wounding the man easily.

It almost looked like the man slit his throat open willingly. He held his open neck as he fell down and colored the grass red.

Another scalp-hunter swung a morningstar at Roy, but he crouched and thrust his blade upward. The sword evaded the morningstar and went through the cracks in his armor, piercing the man’s armpit.

Blood trickled down the edge of the blade, creating a puddle on the floor and dyeing Roy’s boots red. Eventually, something seemed to ignite the blood and cover the witcher from his boots to his armor. The flames wriggled and converged like they were alive.

The poachers who came to attack Roy froze up as if something held them in place, and their eyes went wide. Crimson tentacles appeared from within the flames, a hint of black billowing from them. They stood behind the witcher, swaying in the wind and protecting him like he was their master. The air around him started rippling, and the suckers on the tentacles swayed like wind chimes.

They spread the murmurs of fear and agony. They drowned the poachers and made them relive their worst memories. Unbridled terror ran free within their hearts, and their hands trembled.

They started moving back as slowly as they could, and Roy hopped into the scared crowd. The tentacles stuck by him as they moved through the crowd at breakneck speed. When Roy thrust his sword ahead, the tentacles got ready to pounce and constricted any enemy Roy told them to.

The gap in willpower petrified the enemies, sticking them in place. Their brain was turning to mush from terror while the tentacles kept wrapping themselves around them. At the same time, Gwyhyr bathed in flames and sang with every swing Roy took.

It was a song of blood sung by a thin blade as it sliced through its enemies’ limbs. Crimson blood hit Roy’s magical shield, but he had no time to wipe it off. He heaved a sigh and swung his blade until eventually, there was nothing but corpses around him.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and tossed Furyfire at the back of an escaping man. The fireball ignited his armor and hair, and the man fell down, howling in pain as his flesh was slowly getting cooked.

An arrow was about to hit the witcher, but Roy deflected it quickly with a swing of his blade, and then he set his sights on the last enemy. She was a tall, muscular woman, and she was drawing back her bow.

Roy charged toward her without even bothering to deflect the arrow with his sword. Quen did the job for him.

The woman knew she had nowhere to run, so she tossed her bow and arrow away and whipped out a short sword before she too charged at the witcher.

The combatants clashed, and the woman’s dagger flew out of her hand. Roy held Gwyhyr against the disarmed woman, drawing blood. Something told him he should show mercy.

“D-Don’t kill me! I’m not a poacher!” She raised her hands, her cheeks twitching, and her eyes filled with fear for the first time in this ordeal. “I’m not one of them, I swear!”

Roy looked at her coldly and snapped, “But you attacked me.”

‘Maria Barring

“And where did you learn how to shoot an arrow?” Roy cocked his eyebrow. “That was a quick arrow. Any regular warrior would have died before they could get close to you.”

“My father taught me. He used to be a forest protector.” She stared at the ground, her shoulders trembling. Roy could see she was sad and afraid. “But he’s gone now. I needed to feed myself, but I couldn’t read or do anything else, so I became a huntress. People told me Brokilon had an endless supply of prey, so I came.”

The beasts aren’t your only prey, Roy thought to himself. If you dress yourself up, you can marry yourself off easily.

Roy rubbed his chin and circled the silent girl. She comes from Upper Sodden, her father was a forest protector, and her name is Maria Barring. She looks the age and acts like her. Roy cast Axii to get more accurate answers from the girl.

When Maria snapped out of it, Roy was looking a lot gentler. He knew now that this girl was one of the most important members of Geralt’s team during the search for Ciri in the second war.

She was a reliable lady and one with a tragic background. Even when she was pregnant, she insisted on helping Geralt find the missing Ciri. But she overworked herself and suffered a miscarriage. After that, she even refused to stay with a noble who took a liking to her.

Her fate came to an end during the ambush of Stygga, and she died from an arrow, becoming one of the three heroes who died in that battle.

Roy felt for her. He thought Maria was a legendary figure who would grow up to be a woman with epics written about her, but now she was just a young girl.

Brokilon’s dryads hadn’t abducted her, and she hadn’t reached an agreement with Eithné. Naturally, she still wasn’t a spy.

Once again, he stared at the nervous and curious lady. If she’s gonna end up helping Geralt and Ciri, I might as well help her. “You’re no scalp-hunter, but you still worked with them. Don’t you want to avenge them?”

“I’d rather poison their food and escape while they writhe in agony.” Maria’s eyes glinted angrily. She hissed, “These people are the lowest of the low. They think every girl named Maria is some country girl they can harass and molest. If their boss wasn’t fond of me, I would have been dead by now.” She stared down at the ground, shuddering from one particularly bad memory.

Roy stared at her. She’s not faking the fear. “Since you haven’t killed any dryads or humans, you may leave.”

Maria didn’t move. Her mind told her to leave and not say anything, but her legs felt like lead, and she couldn’t move. This man was younger than her, but he descended like a god and killed all the scalp-hunters easily. Still, he showed her mercy at the last moment.

His bizarre act lit up a flame of curiosity within her, and it slowly took over her mind. “Wh-Who are you? Can you tell me your name?”

“Roy. I’m a hunter just like you, but I only hunt human scum and evil hunters. I won’t elaborate any further, so no more questions. And one word of advice: Brokilon is filled with dangers. It’s not as simple as you think, so don’t try to hunt outside anymore.”

Roy whistled, and Gryphon shot into his hood. He left the place, leaving the scalp-hunters’ loot for Maria.

She stood among the corpse, seeing Roy off. Maria held her beloved bow and stared dumbly into the distance, but she had a feeling she would meet this mysterious figure again in the future.

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