Alaric moved stealthily through the dense forest, the Intervention cradled in his hands while Reaver and Emberblast were securely holstered on his back. His eyes scanned the underbrush, ever alert for any signs of movement. The sounds of the forest surrounded him—the rustling leaves, the distant calls of birds, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot.
He paused, noticing a faint trail of hoofprints leading deeper into the woods. He followed the trail cautiously, his senses heightened. After several minutes of silent tracking, Alaric froze as he spotted a deer grazing in a small clearing. It had brown hooves and magnificent white antlers that gleamed in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.
"There you are," Alaric whispered to himself, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
He lowered himself to one knee, bringing the Intervention up to his shoulder. He aligned the crosshairs with the deer's heart. The animal remained blissfully unaware of his presence, its head down as it nibbled on the grass.
"Steady," Alaric muttered, calming his breath. "One shot."
His finger tightened on the trigger. The world around him seemed to hold its breath as he focused entirely on his target. Just as he was about to fire, a sudden rustling in the bushes to his left made him hesitate. He glanced sideways, his grip on the rifle firm.
A rabbit darted out of the underbrush, startling the deer. The animal's head snapped up, its eyes wide with alarm. For a brief moment, Alaric's shot was compromised. He adjusted quickly, tracking the deer's movements as it began to bolt.
"No you don't," he said under his breath, adjusting his aim with precise movements.
With a smooth squeeze of the trigger, the Intervention fired. The shot rang out, echoing through the forest. The deer stumbled, collapsing to the ground a few yards away. Alaric exhaled slowly, lowering the rifle.
"Perfect," he said, rising to his feet. "Just perfect."
He approached the fallen deer, admiring its graceful form even in death. Kneeling beside it, he ran a hand over its white antlers, feeling a mix of triumph and respect. This was more than just a kill; it was a test of his skill and the effectiveness of the Intervention.
As he prepared to field dress the deer, Alaric's thoughts drifted back to the hunt and the competition. He knew that his methods would raise eyebrows, that his approach was different from the traditional ways. But that was precisely what he intended—to stand out, to prove that he was not bound by the expectations of his family or the norms of the noble society.
"This is just the beginning," he murmured to himself, pulling out a knife from his belt. "Let's see what else I can achieve."
With that, Alaric began the process of preparing the deer, his mind already planning his next move in the competition. He was determined to show everyone that he was a force to be reckoned with, that his unconventional methods and relentless drive set him apart from the rest.
On the other side of the forest, Eliza was letting off volleys of arrows imbued with different elements. She had tracked a harpy to its nest high in the trees. Each arrow she released was a blend of her magical prowess and archery skill, crackling with elemental energy. A lightning arrow struck first, sending a jolt through the harpy's wing. It screeched, enraged and wounded, but still defiant.
"Stay still, you wretched creature," Eliza muttered, nocking another arrow. This one shimmered with frost. She aimed carefully, releasing it with a practiced motion. The arrow struck the harpy's chest, encasing it in a layer of ice.
"Perfect hit," she said, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "Let's see you escape from that."
Meanwhile, on another front, Damian was locked in a fierce battle with an Earthen Bull. The massive creature's hide was tough, covered in rocky plates that deflected most attacks. Damian's sword was surrounded by sharp winds, his elemental magic enhancing every strike. He lunged forward, slashing at the bull's legs, trying to find a weak spot.
"Come on, you brute," Damian grunted, dodging a powerful swipe from the bull's horns. "Fall already."
With a swift motion, he directed a gust of wind to lift him above the bull's head, bringing his sword down with all his might. The wind-enchanted blade cut through the bull's stony armor, drawing a pained roar from the creature.
"That's it," Damian said, breathing heavily. "You're going down."
All around the forest, other participants were focused on their own game. Young nobles displayed their skills, each one eager to impress Duke Edmond Hove. Some worked in teams, coordinating their efforts to take down larger beasts. Others, like Eliza and Damian, preferred to hunt alone, relying on their individual strength and magic.
Eliza continued her assault on the harpy, switching to fire arrows that burned through its icy prison. The harpy, now free but weakened, tried to flee. Eliza was relentless, her eyes narrowed in determination.
"You won't escape," she whispered, releasing another arrow that ignited mid-flight. "This ends now."
The flaming arrow struck true, and the harpy fell from the sky, crashing through the branches to the forest floor. Eliza approached the fallen creature, ensuring it was truly dead before she allowed herself a moment of pride.
Damian, on the other hand, had finally managed to bring the Earthen Bull to its knees. With a final, powerful thrust of his sword, he pierced the bull's heart, the creature collapsing with a thunderous crash. Damian wiped the sweat from his brow, a sense of accomplishment washing over him.
"That was tougher than I thought," he admitted, looking down at his vanquished foe. "But worth every effort."
Each participant was absorbed in their hunt, the forest alive with the sounds of battle and the thrill of the chase.
Back at the camp, Count Vargas and the other nobles awaited the results, eager to see which young hunter would emerge victorious.