Chapter 22: Final Test (5)
Three hours had passed since the trainees had entered the final test, the Dark Forest.
On average, finishing the test took half a day, so there was still a long ti before the trainees could be expected to co out.
Even knowing that, the seniors who acted as their ntors couldn't hide their unease.
They were usually cold and strict, but in the end, they were human.
No one wanted to lose the children they had taken responsibility for in such a place.
Only those with deep attachnts beca witch hunters. It was because of those attachnts that they dread of revenge.
“…I wonder if they are doing well.”
“Haha, Maximilian. It’s pretty boring here so how about a bet?”
“What kind?”
“A bet to see who cos out first.”
Maximilian sighed and turned his head toward the forest.
“Hans. Do you think this is a ga?”
Hans burst into laughter, because even as Maximilian said that, he had flicked a silver coin.
“Well you feel the sa anyway.”
“Hmph. It is a tradition. If we were going to do it, we should have started earlier. Otherwise it brings misfortune.”
“Heh heh. One silver coin then. Alrighty.”
The betting between ntors during the final exam had begun as a way of praying for their students’ safe return.
It was more like an old custom of the seniors, sothing to put their hearts at ease.
“Rowen. You are not joining? It is your first disciple.”
“Ah, I…”
She nearly said she would decline. She disliked the idea of gambling over lives.
But when she recalled the aning behind it, it beca difficult to refuse. She too was now a ntor, responsible for Nike.
‘Not that I fear Nike will die…’
But better to go along with it.
“One mont.”
Rowen searched her clothes and pulled out a silver coin.
However, the wager was never made because a ragged man appeared without a sound.
“…!”
“When did you?”
“The condemned…”
The man wore shackles on his wrists and ankles.
His eyes were lifeless. He looked as though he had not bathed or eaten properly for a long ti, a pitiful sight.
Even so, the three hunters instantly fell to their knees before that ragged figure.
“Captain.”
Without previous notice, the Captain of the Silver Blades appeared.
The mouth of the condemned opened, and an alien voice erged.
“There is an urgent ssage for you all.”
* * *
“B-Brotherrr! Brother! Wake up!”
Lou Gehrig sobbed, pressing on Ginter’s bleeding neck.
“Oh god. Hgh, n-no, this can’t be! Ahhhhh!”
But just as he couldn't hold back the spilling blood, Ginter’s life kept slipping away.
His pupils lost their light. Lou Gehrig lost his senses. He had already lost his family, and now he was about to lose the only blood he had left.
And worstly, it was by his own hand.
“Aughh… What, just why? B-Brother, say sothing, please, please! Pleeeaaase!”
“…Jeez. Shut… up…”
Ginter stared at the blood staining his hand. Red. He sensed his death approaching and accepted it. He felt his consciousness dimming.
While he still had breath, he had to speak to his brother.
He worried endlessly about leaving behind a coward like Lou Gehrig.
With bloodied fingers, Ginter grabbed his brother’s shoulder. His voice was barely a hiss.
“Lu, Lou Gehrig… it’s not your fault. You… know that, right? Don’t… bla yourself.”
“B-But! Brother, wait, not now. We need to call the instructor and…!”
Ginter gave a faint smile and shook his head. He knew well it was already too late.
“Sorry. My stubbornness… dragged you into this…”
mories returned. His obsession with revenge had forced his brother into becoming a witch hunter too.
He rembered Lou Gehrig asking to just farm potatoes and live quietly.
He regretted that he didn’t listen back then.
Instead, he had pulled his brother into this.
And now this.
“Brother… no, no. Don’t die. If you die, what do I do? If you die I won’t forgive you. I’ll never see you again!”
“Make sure you live. And… quit witch hunting as you wished. Farm potatoes. Get a beautiful wife… live, an ordinary life.”
Lou Gehrig shook his head. They had co too far for him to say such words now. Most importantly, he wasn’t ready to give farewells to his brother just yet.
“We can do it together! Damn it! Get up! Pleeeaaase!”
Uuuuu.
Click-clack!
demons caught the sweet scent of human blood. The forest filled with the sound of them gathering.
Ginter closed his eyes.
“A…Ahhhhh! No! Nooo!”
His breath rattled. With half his neck cut off, even speaking had been a miracle.
With the last of his strength, he gripped Lou Gehrig’s hand.
“Lou Gehrig… who are we…?”
Tears fell onto Ginter’s cheek. Lou Gehrig choked on his words and replied.
“The strongest… the strongest… Brother! Brother! Brotherrrrr!”
Ginter exhaled his final breath.
A faint smile lingered, as if comforted by his brother’s last answer.
“Ahh, aghhhh! Ahhhhhhh…!!”
Lou Gehrig clutched his brother’s body, screaming until his throat bled.
As his cries echoed,
Crash!
Trees snapped, hooves thundered, and beastly roars closed in.
Wiping his tears, Lou Gehrig gripped his axe.
If he followed his brother’s wish, he would flee and hide. But now he had nothing left but revenge.
Even if it broke his body.
Crunch! A worm demon bit his arm. Eyes blazing, Lou Gehrig cut it down and roared.
“Y-You filthy bastaaards! Co on! Fuck you! I’ll kill every last one of you!”
He split his axes and swung wildly.
Demons’ eyes glead all around.
“If you won’t co, I’ll co to you! You bastards!!!”
Lou Gehrig charged into the swarm. He no longer felt his body. Claws tore his limbs, fangs stabbed his eyes, spears pierced his gut, but he felt no pain.
“Die you piece of-, you bastaaards!!!”
No pain could rival the agony of losing his brother.
“Stop.”
As Lou Gehrig swung madly, finally pinned beneath claws and fangs, unable to even lift his axe, a familiar voice cut through the demons’ shrieks.
Crack!
Squelch!
Kyaaaaak!
Blades and tearing sounds burst through the darkness. Demons fell in an instant.
When the corpses were cleared, a familiar figure stood before Lou Gehrig.
“M-Master…?”
It was the senior witch hunters. Having heard of the witch’s intrusion from Morgana, they had rushed into the Dark Forest and found him.
Hans pulled the battered Lou Gehrig to safety. Held in his ntor’s arms, Lou Gehrig ignored his own state and searched only for his brother.
“M-My brother is-!”
“…I know.”
Another ntor was already tending to the body. It was chief Instructor Carlton.
Ginter no longer breathed.
“Ah—”
Carlton collapsed before the corpse.
Maximilian removed his hat in mourning.
Hans gripped Lou Gehrig’s shoulder, with his teeth clenched.
“That damned witch...”
The witch hunters’ fury ignited.
* * *
Even Nike’s eyes trained to see the flow of magic, couldn't find an exit.
The maze-like forest that trapped Nike and Tia was far more complex than anything in training.
Whether natural or artificial, they couldn't tell.
One thing was certain. The maze was so advanced that even Nike couldn't find a way out.
During training he had always found the exit without fail. His uncanny sense for paths was unmatched.
‘Wouldn’t it at the very least take a real witch’s barrier to trouble him this much…?’
Tia wondered but dismissed it. It was unrealistic.
The Order had maintained this forest for generations. No witch could even co near.
Perhaps it was too difficult for a final test, but to test soone like Nike, maybe it was necessary.
Hunger gnawed, their bodies ached, and exhaustion pulled at them. It felt like days had passed, maybe even weeks.
They had lost track of ti. At last, both slumped beneath a marked tree to rest.
“at.”
The hungry Nike flopped onto the ground. If a demon appeared, he would have eaten it, but there was not a single living creature around them.
“…If you are that hungry, eat grass roots. The manual shows which are safe to eat.”
“at.”
“…So stubborn.”
The forest remained pitch black. They couldn't see clearly, had lost sense of ti and direction, and had no food.
It was almost impossible to stay sane in a place like this.
As hope faded, Tia sat hugging her knees and finally spoke after hesitating for a bit.
“…Nike. You only ca here to hunt witches, right?”
“Contract.”
Nike blinked dully as he answered.
“…Aren’t you curious why I ca?”
Tia looked at him sideways. She did not expect anything from him. He was not one to care about others after all.
“Curious.”
“…Really?”
Nike answered without hesitation. Whether sincere or not, it did not matter.
The fact that he showed interest made Hestia happy.
Smiling faintly, she said,
“…I actually ca to find my mother.”
Nike stared blankly into space. He showed no reaction.
But Hestia treated it as if it was just a last confession.
“The woman who adopted and raised for a few years… was a witch.”
“Twist.”
“…Yeah. I want to find her and ask why she raised . What the dicine she fed every night was. And why, out of five children, I was the only one she kept alive.”
It was the first ti Hestia had shared her story to another person.
She had vowed never to tell anyone, but in training she had learned to rely on others, so she whispered without regret.
For so reason, she felt she could tell Nike. He was strange and hard to communicate with, but he was comfortable.
But Nike found her words boring and thought only of food.
Growl.
Even when Nike showed no interest and only responded with his stomach growl, Hestia liked him.
His dullness made him easy to be around.
‘…Even if he doesn’t intend to.’
She smiled quietly and leaned against a tree.
But suddenly, Nike sat up.
“Nike. Your eyes…?”
The savage glare that had pierced the dark forest before was back.
At first she thought she imagined it, but it was real. His eyes had changed, sothing she had not seen in five weeks.
But the difference this ti was not that he was excited, but wary and hostile.
“Grrrrr…”
He was like a beast baring its fangs before prey.
“…Nike? What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly…?”
He would not act like this for no reason. Feeling uneasy, Tia drew her scythe and stood by him.
She also pulled out a vial and drank. Veins bulged around her eyes, and her sight sharpened.
“…When did this happen…”
She couldn't believe it.
She had not noticed, but magic filled the forest like fog.
It was far thicker, darker, more sinister than when they first entered the forest.
Anyone who had paid attention in class would know it ant only one thing.
“…A witch?”
—!
At that very mont, a blade shot at her temple.
She had not even perceived it, but Nike thrust out his hand.
Slash! Blood splattered her right cheek. It was his blood.
“…Nike…?”
“Prey. Ambush.”
Nike gripped the blade. Blood dripped down his arm, but he showed no sign of pain.
“Corruption. Trap. Doom. Distortion. Malice. Hell. Rot. Flesh. Repent.”
He focused hard on the darkness, muttering endlessly.
Hestia looked as well. Goosebumps rose across her body at the sa ti.
‘…’
It felt like she was confronting sothing that shouldn’t exist in this world.
A sight that drove her to want to kill herself at once.
Dark thoughts clawed at her, the urge to tear her own eyes out.
Clinging to her sanity, she forced herself to stare ahead.
Soon, a wavering figure stepped through the dark.
Even at a glance, it was lethally dangerous. Her mind understood they could never escape, even if they ran.
But as a witch hunter, she also knew they must not run.
Hestia gripped her scythe and braced herself.
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
Kk, kk, kk, kk, kk…
The woman appeared before them as if space had folded, with her grotesque voice spilling out.
“…Foound you… Ryga aihr.”
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