Chereads / Arcanist Tales / Chapter 22 - The hunter and the hunted

Chapter 22 - The hunter and the hunted

From afar from the previous scenery, the figure of a man stood at the top of a cliff. Dressed in a pelt like that of a hunter, his predatory eyes studied the mushroom-like structure in the distance, scrutinizing his target for its weakness.

It was the same man who was seen talking to Zne'Khorevie.

And right now, he waited; It was not known for how long.

Had he always been there?

No.

Did he just arrive?

Kind off.

What was he waiting for?

Well, the man was expecting a signal from his squad that would start this suicidal operation, one they had planned and rehearsed countless times before approaching these lands. Lands that were filled with hostility for them.

Not like he cared. Because. What was life without death?

He kept watching, but as time passed, the man began to look displeased.

"Why's that fool taking this long? Does that stupid monkey not know that our chance is slipping?"

The man complained, muttering more curses under his breath as he gritted his teeth, one might think he wanted to release a spark and light a fire with it – the night was cold anyways. All he achieved was a vague creaking sound.

The amount of time he had been standing on this rock had gotten to him, driving him crazy.

It greeted him with a feeling, a feeling that was akin to reading a thousand literary books all in one day at gunpoint.

The things that gave him this sensation were: Flies that buzzed with every ounce of viciousness they had, the dust that found a way to enter places it shouldn't, and the sounds of vehicles that flew in the distance. All of it.

The thought of betrayal snuck into his subconscious like a thief, persuading him to leave this post. All in an effort to make him go AWOL.

It was annoying, to say the least, but tempting.

The man suppressed that thought soon, because of his 'loyalty.' He wished he didn't have it as he never had a choice in it. But not every man could be free... he was no exception.

The man crushed his musing to calm himself and rid himself of any disloyal thoughts -- He took a breath of air. It was fresh.

Despite the calming sensation it had brought, it failed to cleanse his state of mind. The urge escalated, repeating like a telephone line. Ring, ring, ring. It sang.

Heightened by a fly that departing on the man's right ear.

The fly was the bag that broke the camel's back.

"TO HELL WITH IT!! The plan can be changed for–"

The man's shout halted.

Something was happening.

His ears jerked around as they picked up a sound, a sizzling one.

It came from his left, north. The direction of it was a field of bamboo trees that swayed about. They pointed to the sky as they emitted a zigzagging smoke from their depths.

The sound resounded like burning matches.

He began to grin. The signal had come.

As time trod along the sea of space, the sizzling sound surged, its beat going up and down. But the sequence had a rhythm to it, similar to a heartbeat.

And… it stopped. Soon – A noise, a loud one, descended upon the forest, enough to burst eardrums. it spread for miles.

In the smoky bamboo canopy, a massive cloud of dust and debris, accompanied by flames and waves like fire and water, rose to the sky and shrouded it.

Thus, after witnessing the blast, the man cried: "ZeRAVAKUJA!" While facing the sky. His hands to the side. It seemed as if he wanted to summon lightning to strike down the spot.

Afterward, he took the stance of a bipedal animal and leaped down the cliff. The ground beneath him fragmented as he plummeted to the floor at the bottom.

Soon after, down the cliffhanger, cackles echoed through the night.

Meanwhile, In a well-decorated parking lot, Fevorey looked upon the mysterious figure that raised its head.

The figure spoke…"Ca-can you show me where the elevator is, kind sir,"

The person had a scratchy voice like someone choking on a razor blade. And had shown her face. The apparition was an old lady. She looked kind, round-faced.

The lady also looked like she would topple over with a nudge.

Fevorey breathed out in relief; his racing heart slowed down because the figure was neither an enemy nor. An outsider.

"Greetings, Miss. Satin," Fevorey bent forward at a 90-degree angle. And a feeling of deja vu washed over Fevorey as he recognized who it was. This was Satin, the mother of the person his boss hated to death – Satrina,

"Ah yes, yes, I too wish you all the goods of the morning he," Satin said with a smile, gesturing for the man to stop being formal.

She wasn't here to be a prude.

Fevorey stood upright and saluted. Then he asked, "Do you want me to escort you down to the place? And do you have anyone following you perhaps? And did you find anyone in your way here?"

"Oh my, Oh my, so many questions calm down." Satin said with a somewhat anxious face, an exaggerated one.

The series of questions shocked her. How was she supposed to know these? Well she knew the first 2 at least

Seeing her reaction and noticing his rudeness, Fevorey said. "I apologize for that but did you?" He felt a tinge of guilt, but he needed to know.

Satin waved it off and said, "no worries, you surprised old me is all, and I just came, So I've not seen anyone."

"Oh." Fevorey looked down in apprehension.

Back to square one.

Then. Satin answered the other questions. "No need for you to escort you kind fellow. My old bones still have some milk in them," Satin joked to lighten up the serious mood. "My husband had wanted to come, but ooh, he contracted something… nasty."

Satin cringed as she said nasty. "Just show me the way to the elevator, and I'll be on my way, thank you." She completed.

Fevorey nodded and pointed to a faraway elevator with his staff while squinting. "Right there," he said.

"Ahh," she exclaimed as she looked in that direction and saw the glinting red elevator. "Thank you, I'll be off now, tatta,"

Satin swaggered off to the elevator, and Fevorey felt her movement was almost comical. He let out a laugh.

Since that was over, he rested his back upon a sphere-like vehicle and chuckled at his overreaction at the woman.

'I think I have become too paranoid, I might take up that vacation, but do I need to though?' Fevorey thought to him, trying to make a decision. Because he had to admit — he was losing his touch.

And maybe a vacation is what he needs, right?

'I guess a vacation might not be so bad. Especially if it would make that bastard, Relix, stop pestering me into accepting it…' Fevorey thought; he proceeded to inspect the exquisite parking space – it was getting darker in the lot.

It scared him.

"Seriously… Where did Relix go?" Fevorey contemplated. "And the others too, could there be some emergency… Something feels: wrong."

Fevorey stood up, 'something is missing,' his mind whispered to him. He began to connect all the clues.

'The heat in the elevator, the silence, missing guards…' Fevorey started to feel a sense of anxiety swell deep in him. And the sounds in the place dimmed alongside the lighting.

"Nothing is right," Fevorey strode about the place in search of life, half-expecting something to jump out of the dark and snap his neck, then he would fall to the ground, squirming, shivering as his eyes lost light.

The assumption changed the landscape In his eyes. Everything became a danger. Everything became a risk hazard. He stood in a sea of mines. He swam in a land of tension.

But there was a silver lining.

He recollected a moment during his talk with Satin, the part about "her husband," reverberated in this cranium.

There's where the problem comes in.

Why?

.

.

.

Her husband was dead.

So how did he contact the flu?

'Did she forget?' He thought.

Preposterous!

A Zeon rank Dual pather of the Zoroastrism school of power forgetting something that important!

No matter how old Satin was or how easygoing her personality had become: it could never happen; it was simply impossible.

"What have I done?" Fevorey said with fear; he gathered energy into his feet and prepared to leap in that direction.

As the silence hung heavy in the air, and he prepared to bring down the intruder, a blood-curdling scream shattered the tranquility of the night, similar to that of a crying mother.

Fevorey recoiled at the wailing, and tears urged to stream down his ears. He recognized that voice. The voice filled with despair, agony. Was. Familiar.

It was.

"Relix!"