Falko walked beside a group of women, all experienced hunters, as they led him deeper into the woods. The women were talking in low voices, discussing hunting strategies and sharing their knowledge with each other. Falko listened closely, taking it all in. He had insisted on joining them, despite the odd looks some of the villagers and hunters had given him.
One of the younger women, with short, messy hair and a lively expression, glanced over at him curiously. "You're not like the other boys in the village, are you, Falko?"
Falko smiled at her, brushing a branch out of his way. "I guess not. Everyone has their own interests. Some boys like sewing and cooking. I like… learning how to survive."
The women around him chuckled. The one who had asked him the question gave him an amused look. "A little oddball among us, huh?"
Falko didn't respond, just kept walking, focused on the task ahead. He had much to learn, and despite the humor in their voices, he knew that these women had skills he could only dream of mastering.
Suddenly, the lead hunter raised her hand, signaling for the group to stop. They all went silent, crouching low behind some bushes. Falko's heart began to race as he followed their lead, the tension in the air making it clear something was coming.
From a distance, they could hear the heavy snorts of a boar, crashing through the underbrush. The women exchanged quick, silent signals with each other, their communication effortless and precise. Falko watched in awe as they moved in sync, prepared for the hunt.
He could easily tell that this sync was none other than the result of their constant hunting in these woods, which might have been helpful for them.
After a few minutes, the boar wandered directly into one of the traps the hunters had set earlier. There was a sudden snap, and the boar let out a startled cry as its leg was caught in the trap. The hunters moved quickly, surrounding the beast before it had a chance to fight back or break free. Within seconds, the lead hunter plunged her spear into the boar, killing it swiftly.
"Hahah~ tonight, we are going to eat boar." One of the hunters laughed with a satisfied look on her face, while others felt their mouthwatering, just by remembering the taste of the juicy and succulent boar meat.
They all exhaled in relief, but one of the hunters sighed as she knelt down beside the boar, examining its body closely. "Something's wrong here."
Falko stepped closer, curiosity piqued. "What is it?"
The hunter pointed to a series of small, round bite marks on the boar's side, which looked disgusting and smelled bad. "Ganome bites," she said grimly.
"Ganome?" Falko asked, unfamiliar with the name.
"They're like tentacle monsters, but much worse," one of the older women explained. "They cling to trees and attack any mammal that gets too close. Their bite releases a toxin into the body."
"What does the toxin do?" Falko's voice was calm, but his mind raced as he processed this new information.
"It destroys the mind," the hunter answered. "Slowly, but surely. It makes the victim go mad. There's no cure unless you can get to the capital, and even then, it's risky."
Falko's eyes widened. "Scary stuff."
Inside his head, Tyrant Falko's voice growled in agreement.
[My world didn't have these kinds of monsters. No magic, no curses… only the will to fight. Itis really fascinating this world.]
Gamer chimed in, his tone more lighthearted.
[I've seen things like this before. In games, though, not real life.]
As they continued hunting, Falko's thoughts drifted back to the stories he'd heard in the past, about the monsters and other creatures of the wild. He had always been curious about them, but as a prince, his place had never been in the forests or on the battlefields.
I knew about these monsters, Falko thought, but I wasn't allowed to learn more. Instead, I had to attend balls and banquets. I was forced to be elegant, not useful.
Tyrant Falko chuckled darkly in his mind.
[Useless lessons. In my world, I used men and women alike to fight. Some of the most talented warriors in my army were women. My wife—now that was a woman who stood by me through everything. You'll need someone like that one day. Someone you can trust completely. What do you think about Rhea? She lacks the enthusiasm but she is a good girl.]
"Rhea? No way, she is like a..." Falko wanted to say something, but he had to think, who was Rhea to him. Then his gaze flickered to the women he was hunting with. They were strong, capable, and knew how to survive. He respected them deeply for that. But trust was a different matter. Trust was something earned, not given freely.
As the sun began to set, the hunters packed up their spoils, their sacks full of meat and hides from the day's hunt. They had managed to catch several more animals, but the presence of the Ganome's bite marks on the boar weighed on their minds because it was dangerous.
"At least we don't hear about Omens anymore," one of the women said with a relieved smile as they walked back toward the village.
Falko furrowed his brow. "Omens?"
"They're dangerous beings," one of the hunters explained. "Nobody knows much about them. They appear when something terrible is about to happen. We've been lucky not to see any recently."
Falko nodded, storing the information away. He didn't know much about omens, but anything that the hunters considered dangerous was something to be wary of.
As they approached the village, a strange sight greeted them. Dozens of horses were gathered near the center of the village, and the usually calm air was filled with tension. People were running around, mumbling to each other, their faces pale with fear.
"What's going on?" one of the hunters muttered, her brow furrowed.
Falko's heart dropped when he saw a woman running toward him, her face stricken with panic. She was one of Brina's closest friends, and her expression told him something was terribly wrong.
"Falko!" she called out breathlessly. "You need to come quick! Brina's in trouble!"
Falko's blood turned cold. Without thinking, he broke into a run, pushing through the crowd toward the direction of his home. His heart pounded in his chest as he saw what was happening.
The house he shared with Brina and Rhea was surrounded by soldiers—strange, unfamiliar soldiers in red and silver armor. They moved with precision, their faces hidden beneath their helmets as they stormed the house, raiding it as if searching for something.
Rhea was nowhere in sight, and neither was Brina among the crowd. He knew he had to find them quickly.
"Brina…" Falko whispered, his hands curling into fists.
Inside his head, Tyrant's voice growled.
[This is bad. Whoever these soldiers are, they're not friendly. We have to be smart about this. I think you need to run away for now.]
Gamer's didn't agree with his sentiment.
[No. We don't know who they are or what they want. You need to find Brina and Rhea, fast. You can't leave them.]
"I'm not going to leave Brina and Rhea! Tyrant, you should be more careful about what you say," Falko warned and scanned the area, trying to stay calm. The village was in chaos, and the soldiers showed no signs of stopping. He couldn't afford to make a rash decision. He needed to think, to plan.
But deep down, rage simmered in his chest. Whoever these people were, they had dared to invade his home. They had threatened the only people he had left in this world.
"If they have harmed Rhea or Brina, I'm going to-" He didn't complete his sentence, because he knew actions speaks louder than words.