A wivern screeched as it soared past the treetops, its turbulent airflow could even reach the tree hollow on the ground. These massive flying creatures dominated the swampy nights, making every warm-blooded animal part of their diet, including bison-like beasts of a similar size.
A lizard-like scent lingered in the air, irritating the hunter. He cared nothing about whether the creatures were related; he simply loathed them. If it weren't for these nightly creatures forcing him to hide in the tree hollow alongside his prey until dawn, he would have broken his prey through sheer exhaustion in just one day and night. If not for the foul odor that dulled his sense of smell, he wouldn't have been delayed by a trick that nearly escaped his notice, nor would he be sitting here, distracted by distant campfire lights.
Why start a fire? To eat and regain strength? Do you know I've seen through your trap? Or is this yet another one?
Are you taunting me? The hunter raged internally. Are you telling me you're right there, waiting for me to come and tear out your heart?
But he quickly reminded himself to stay calm. Facing such a cunning prey, losing his head would lead him straight into a trap. This was undoubtedly a trap, or perhaps an extension of the one from earlier in the day.
The river wasn't far now; tomorrow at dawn, he would give chase with all his might and end the hunt in a deeply satisfying way. The hunter snorted excitedly and gripped his powerful weapon. It was encrusted with a thin layer of blood and brain matter, now hardened into part of the weapon.
Stay calm, stay calm, he reminded himself again. Tomorrow, every trace must be carefully observed, meticulously analyzed, so as not to be misled by any illusion. Be wary of illusions, be cautious of traps.
Do you really think you can deceive me so easily? Do you still take pride in that brain I'm about to twist off and savor?
The hunter felt a surge of satisfaction at his clear thoughts and snorted again.
The blade sliced through skin, severed muscle, cut the throat, and sliced through the artery before emerging from the other side of the neck. The feeling reverberated from his fingers to his wrist, then up to his elbow and arm, and finally, it resonated deeply within his heart, distinct and profound like a beautifully crafted poem. Then the warm red blood flow out exuberantly from the woman's body, allowing Asa to drink deeply.
A few strands of black hair clung to her thin lips, which curved into a tense, slight smile. Her half-closed eyes narrowed, long eyelashes veiling a hazy hint of amusement. Only when he got closer did he realize just how stunning this woman was.
Suddenly, Asa felt a pang of fear—fear of the tenderness in her half-closed eyes, fear of the stubbornness in her thin-lipped smile. The woman's expression hadn't changed, but Asa was overwhelmed by a terror of her newly discovered beauty and softness.
Then he realized it wasn't just the woman's throat he had slashed, but his own as well. Touching the wound on his neck, he was haunted by the fear of death. He tried to cover the wound, but to no avail, and Asa groaned in agony.
Staring at the woman's beautiful, gentle face and the ghastly gash in her neck, Asa could feel his own wound. Sadness, sorrow, fear, and pain surrounded him like the enveloping darkness. He jerked awake with a start.
The first light of dawn had appeared in the east, and the calls of the wiverns were fading into the distance. These creatures were now circling back from the swamp's edge toward their nests deep in the swamp. The hunter's position was closer to the swamp's center, giving Asa an early start advantage.
Yet, Asa showed little interest in this precious time. Instead, he squatted beside the dying campfire, blankly watching the woman crush water mint and chrysanthemums with a stone, rubbing the mixture on her clothes and skin. The lingering dread of his nightmare still clung to his thoughts, like sticky mucus that wouldn't go away. His mind remained fuzzy, though he could thankfully feel that his strength had nearly fully recovered.
The woman, on the other hand, seemed to have slept well. After applying the mixture, she swiftly packed her belongings, chatting casually with him. "You had quite the nightmare last night. You woke me up. I was thinking of waking you."
Asa stared blankly at the woman's radiant face, her expression calm and full of energy. Those beautiful, hazy eyes, the straight nose, thin lips, and the slender white neck that peeked from her clothes. Suddenly, he imagined blood gushing from her neck and shuddered violently.
The woman had already packed her things and was bidding farewell. "Goodbye, then. If you get the chance, come find me at Duke Murak's estate in the royal capital." She smiled a smile so tender it seemed to soften even the morning mist. "My name is Elaine."
There's no chance. It's either you die, or I die. Asa couldn't bear to face her smile and simply grunted while staring at the ground.
Once her figure disappeared into the morning fog, Asa began running along the river.
He didn't bother jumping into the river to mask his scent, nor did he care about leaving footprints even the most nearsighted mouse could follow. He didn't run fast either; this pace would allow him to conserve his energy most efficiently. He knew perfectly well that any attempts at concealment would be futile under the hunter's gaze. Leaving a clear trail might even confuse him.
Of course, there was still a chance the hunter would follow this real trail, but after falling into the previous trap, he would likely be more cautious, making that possibility slim. Asa suddenly realized he was actually hoping to hear the hunter's footsteps behind him.
But confusion wouldn't be enough. This was indeed the most efficient strategy. If the hunter exhausted himself chasing the woman, Asa's chances of escape would increase significantly. Even if the hunter killed the woman and resumed the chase, Asa would still have the upper hand in stamina, increasing his odds of victory. Shaking his head, Asa tried to focus all his energy on each step.
However, after running for less than half an hour, he came across a large river blocking his path. He found the situation almost laughable. Everyone, including the hunter, had miscalculated. Due to the rainy season, the river had overflowed, cutting directly through the swamp.
Just then, a faint scream echoed from deep within the swamp.
Though the sound was distant, it struck Asa's heart like a giant hammer. The vivid image of the woman's bloodied throat from last night's dream resurfaced clearly in his mind. He stood frozen, unable to move.