Travelling back the way they came, the trio noticed a difference around them. The dukedom of Cortius was filled with soldiers, everyone on high alert, while Drech remained quiet as if the news of the impending war didn’t matter to them at all.

  Albaras suddenly spoke as if he were trying to communicate with the air. ’Well, lads, as we have just finished our contract, why not travel to a fun place to blow off some steam?’

  Rederick just gave up on it, not even trying to counter him with logic, leaving Kian to make the decision. ’It will be nice to relax for a bit after all that has happened and before war reaches this place.’

  ’That is something you don’t have to worry about kid,’ Rederick answered. To hear him speak was quite surprising; he had been quiet the entire ride back, not eating anything, or at least nothing in sight. Rederick continued, ’Drech are just like us neutral ground. They can’t support the Empirium, nor can they support them, only being vassals since they can’t make the quality of armor and weaponry like Drech does keeping them as vassals that the Empirium can discard at any time, rather than as part of the formal hierarchy.’

  Kian looked at Rederick, half understanding what he meant by it all. Then turned to Albaras. ’What is the place you are thinking of, Albaras?’

  Albaras chuckled before answering. ’I was thinking toward a very special place — the Triple Lance.’

  ’The place where they hold their tournaments? During wartime? You want to visit a jousting arena?’ Rederick tried to retort even if it was more automatically than out of himself.

  That is right, you are correct. There is no better time than now. Albaras said with so much glee that Kian suspected he did it more to spite Rederick than to show him around.

  With that, Albaras suddenly turned down a path they had never taken before.

  As they went deeper down the unfamiliar path, more wagons came into sight, each bearing a noble house’s flag.

  What were they all doing?Albaras knew something we didn’t. He had been surprisingly silent throughout our journey, speaking little until finally arriving at Triple Lance.

  Travelling for what feels far too long. Ahead hung a wooden board, chained between two tall poles saying Triple Lance. Behind it stretched a massive jousting arena, its two long lines divided by a sturdy rail. Surrounding the field, wooden booths stood ready for spectators, their seats overlooking the battleground.

  Most surprising of all, it was not empty. Further down the road, wagons stood in neat rows, tents were set up, and flagpoles bore the banners of various houses. People in varied suits of armor moved about, busy with preparations.

  ′Isn’t this joyous? It is busy, aren’t we the lucky ones?′ Albaras said.

  Rederick only glanced at him before letting out a deep sigh. ′What are we really doing here? I know we’re not just here for a visit.′

  We dismounted at the stables, following Albaras.

  ′Maybe,′ Albaras admitted, ′but this is a chance you wouldn’t have if you weren’t hunters. If you were still living ordinary lives, if I had never been there… This is a special event, one that not many ordinary people get to see.′

  Looking ahead, Kian spotted a board with names listed under various titles. Curiosity sparked within me, excitement rising at the thought of seeing the names of legends I had once known.

  ′Yearly Winners.′

  Scanning the list, I recognized only a few, but one stood out: Gerard Gurrund. Then there were others that just seemed odd. Who would name their child Khazador?

  He had won every melee on the board in recent years, yet his name still sounded ridiculous, nothing like one from a noble house. Why didn’t he have a second name? There were a few others without one. I thought everyone was supposed to have one. Maybe they were just bastards.

  Suddenly, I heard Rederick unsheathing his sword. We turned to him, and Albaras, just through his movements alone, was just as surprised as I was.

  ′What are the freaks doing here?′

  Following his gaze, we saw a group of creatures, mutated beings grotesquely fused from multiple animals in a crude attempt to resemble humans. One stood out from the rest, towering at least two heads taller, maybe even more, and just as wide. It had the head of a bull. Its helmet fit perfectly over its horns and ears that stuck out of it.

  Before Rederick could act, Albaras spoke.

  ′Don’t do that, Rederick. We still need you alive and dying like that isn’t exactly helpful. The Empirium may be at war with the Beastkin, but Drech isn’t them.′

  Rederick hesitantly put his sword back in its sheath as he watched them walk toward the tents, greeting the other knights and being greeted in return.

  Then let’s do what we came here to do before I head home. ′This sight is not natural. ′

  As the trio ventured deeper, they passed the melee stand and made their way toward the archery range. Most of the area was covered in sand, spread across the stands and pits, seemingly to soften the inevitable falls. It was curious that they had gone through the effort of transporting so much sand here rather than simply holding the tournament in a place that naturally had more of it.

  Suddenly, a knight approached. His armor was entirely black, but unlike Albaras, its darkness came from the paint itself rather than a covering. Albaras armor, by contrast, had only a faint, almost imperceptible layer of darkness upon it.

  The only part of the knight’s armor that wasn’t black was a section on the side, where deep scratches revealed the silver metal beneath. A red cape, cut in the shape of a wing, draped behind him, just barely missing the ground lined with golden fur. His helmet reinforced the avian motif, featuring a beaked visor that gave him the appearance of a bird of prey.

  ′Good... day... sir,′ he spoke very slowly. ′I... am... Ruwich... please... follow... me...′ He turned and began walking. Albaras shrugged and was the first to follow. I grabbed Rederick’s hand, sensing he might fall over at any moment, and gently guided him forward.

  Kian wanted to ask Ruwich a question, but he didn’t want to hear him speak, for that rusty voice sounding like nails over a board. He kept himself quiet. What he did notice, however, was that on the back of his cape was a white skull with a black eyepatch, and around it was the inscription DEATH IN HUNTING written in black.

  As we followed him, we came across a single tent, the largest I had ever seen. Surrounding it were more black-armored men, each with scratches on their armor, though in varying positions. Some had multiple, while a few had none. Others appeared more like guards, their armor shaped to resemble that of a bull, standing as if protecting the tent.

  Kian looked at the black tent. The only detail standing out was the banners, each featuring the image of a black-and-grey bull’s head. Its eyes burned red, with whitish horns.

  Ruwich began speaking again. ′We... have... arrived...′ He pointed toward the entrance of the tent. Albaras chuckled as he stepped inside, and we followed closely behind him. Inside the tent, there was a painting of a golden man on the wall, with a man built like a soldier standing in front of it, admiring the painting.

  ′Before you ask,′ the man said, turning to face us. ’I told Albaras to come here. I know he doesn’t handle this kind of contract well

  He paused, looking at Rederick. ′How far you’ve fallen, Rederick. Such great stories from your father, and now you turn out to be what looks like a walking corpse.′

  Rederick sighed heavily. ′Of course... Do you see what I travel with?′ He nudged his head toward Albaras. ′Knowing what happened and what will happen, how could I not look like this?′

  ′Good to know that you’re still trying to be active, at least for what I asked you to be here for,′ the man said, looking at Albaras. ′There will be a lot of activity ahead. Ready to discuss it with the others?′

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  ′We are always ready to work with the almighty John Le’Bull,′ Albaras replied. ′The leader who sold his county to the Empirium and the Beastkin, selling arms to both to fuel his greed. While these two factions prepare to destroy each other, one man creates an army of many, all for the sake of his own power.′

  John’s smile faded. ′You’re right about that,′ he said. ′I do try to fight it, but I can’t escape the nature of vengeance, something the Beastkin and the Empirium have always felt for one another. Yet here I am, trying my last plan for when the war inevitably starts again: the final tournament, a gathering of Beastkin and men. I’m hoping this will allow us to reunite, but it’s likely to fail, just like all the other times.′

  Albaras chuckled. ′Sure, if you want to believe that be my guest. Now, about the contract. Let’s get moving. I want to be on the road again.

  John sighed. ′A vassal of mine, a village in the north between the mountains, has contracted the plague. I can’t send my own army there to handle it, and the vassal is already occupied with more urgent matters. ′I need you to burn it all. Let the fire take the woods, so something new can rise from the ashes.′

  ′Did you just lie?′ Rederick interrupted. ′Did you create the tournament to keep the people distracted, hoping that when it’s all over, we’ll have dealt with this thing called the plague?′

  John continued, ignoring Rederick. ′I will send two men to accompany you to the village as your guides and support for taking it down. It’s not much, but they are some of my elites, already on standby as you get on the horses. Your reward is early retirement for the three of you. I will meet you back at my castle when it’s all done. Now, move out. There’s no more time to waste.

  As quickly as we had entered to look around the tournament areas, we left just as swiftly. I had hoped to speak with some of those strange people, but alas, perhaps I would meet one later.

  When we made our way to the stables, Ruwich kindly walked with us. ′Good... luck... on... your... journey...′ he said.

  ′Thank you, sir,′ I responded, while Rederick and, surprisingly, Albaras remained silent. What struck me as odd was that Ruwich let out a small laugh if you can even call it that.

  In front of the stables sat two men who looked identical to Ruwich. Mounted on blackened, armored steeds. Each held a halberd in hand, with a heater shield attached to the side of their horse, along with a bow and quiver. I assumed they also had swords at their sides. They watched us as we prepared to leave.

  ’Follow us closely,′ one of them said as we rode up to them. And just like that, we left, no introductions, nothing.

  The only details I could make out were the scratches on their armor. One had a mark near its mouth, while the other had his mark around his eye. It was a terrifying sight, almost like the stories I had heard about the Knights of the Night.

  During our journey, Kian rode up to the one who had spoken earlier, hoping he could get him to talk. ′Why do you scratch your armor? Why not leave it be?′ He didn’t answer, only staring at me through his scratched helmet. ′What do you usually do?′ Still no response. Kian rode a little further back to where Albaras was waiting for me.

  ′Don’t worry, my boy,′ Albaras said. ′These are the Toden J?ger, a special order of Drech knights. They fight beasts, not men, just like us. They’re not very open, but once they do speak, you’ll know they’re good lads.′

  As we set up camp, they pitched small tents off the side of their horses. ‘They have tents,’ Kian whispered to Rederick. ′I want one. It seems nice.’

  He chuckled, ′Keep dreaming, kid. We’re the followers of Albaras.′

  As he kept talking, my mind slowly drifted away. The abyss closed in, and I felt it pulling me into the chambers of an altar. There was something or someone on it. A body, or rather, the body of the last dream. I recognized the green hands.

  The figure sat against the altar, pointing a green finger at me. Behind me, I felt a hand. I turned and saw the man in the mask. I couldn’t move, as if I had no control over my own dream anymore.

  He spoke softly; his voice oddly pleasant. ′ Soon, we will meet, and together, the gods will taste the dirt, just as we do. For we are the same, needing each other if we want a blue future. Not the one we have now, suffocated by the gods, a red one.′

  In the background, a white fire crept up toward the man, almost leaping at him. When it touched him, he vanished, and the fire took his form, standing in place before collapsing to the ground.

  I reached out to touch the fire, and in an instant, Kian woke up.

  Rederick was standing over me, sword drawn, pointing at one of the knights—the one with the scratched mouth. He looked at me, still pointing.

  Kian got up quickly. As he did, Rederick pulled Kian behind him. ′Stay away from him. I’ve dealt with his dreams before.′

  The Toden J?ger gave a slight nod when he saw I was awake, and not wanting to interfere with Rederick, he walked back into his tent.

  ′Now that we’re not alone anymore,′ Rederick said jokingly, ′maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have that tent after all.′

  In the morning, before we settled the other Toden J?ger, one of them walked over to me. He sounded more normal than I expected.

  ′Good morning. We haven’t exchanged names yet, have we? Let me introduce myself first. It would only be right if we’re going to work together. I’m Morsan, and my colleague is Methussun.′

  ′Finally got a chance to talk to one of them. I spoke up, my voice a little louder than normal.′

  ′ My name is Kian, sir.′

  ′Call me Morsan. I left the ′sir′ behind a long time ago. It’s just too boring to keep.’

  He was almost like a gargoyle, a man hidden inside the hide of a beast.

  ′How come you’re just talking now? I tried this already before.′

  He looked at Kian, his eyes sharp. ′Well, kiddo, I thought we had just a regular group of hunters, but that nightmare of yours is something else. You’re lucky that knight is around. Methussun told me that when he was on watch, he was sitting beside you the entire time. When the nightmare started, Rederick took immediate action. Methussun tried to approach you to search for any sign of a devil or god listening to your murmurs, but Rederick had already drawn his sword.′

  As Morsan spoke, Rederick approached. ′Move over, fellow knight, and leave Kian alone.′ He stood beside us, his helm on, and for a moment, he looked every bit the knight of legends, imposing and regal. But beneath that armor, I knew, lay something else. Something more broken than anyone would guess.

  Morsan didn’t flinch. He stood up, meeting Rederick’s gaze. In that moment, he too saw what lay beneath the knight’s hardened exterior, just by watching his eyes.

  Out of respect, Morsan stepped away. ′You need some rest, Ribbon Knight. If you ever want someone else to take the night shift, I could help. Doesn’t have to be now, just something to consider for the future.′

  ′Don’t worry, I can live sleepless,′ Rederick replied. ′I’d rather face my demons than dream about them.′

  Morsan walked away, gathering his gear and breaking down his tent. Rederick kept watch over the death knights. Albaras was talking to Methussun, who had already finished loading his horse.

  As we resumed traveling, I slowed my pace to ride next to Rederick. ′I need to ask,′ I said after hearing Morsan words. ′Are you always beside me when we travel? Why do you go to the trouble of letting yourself turn into what you are?′

  Rederick made no effort to speak. Instead, his armored hand rested briefly on my head, a single, fleeting pat over my hood. The metal should have been cold, but there was an unexpected warmth to it.

  The Toden j?gers halted their horses. ′We’re here,′ Morsan said.

  As Methussun dismounted, his halberd held like an axe, he approached a nearby tree and struck it with a sharp blow. When the weapon left the bark, Morsan said one thing that made me believe in the impossible: ′Look at the cut, lads, and see the thing you should never touch.′

  We turned to the spot where the halberd had struck. A black liquid oozed from the wound, as though the tree itself was bleeding. Rederick gave me the final piece of the puzzle. We had arrived at our most dangerous contract yet, one that shouldn’t exist. It should be a myth.

  ′We’re not hired to fight a plague,′ Rederick muttered, his tone shifting. ′We’re hired to fight theplague. And you, Albaras... you knew, didn’t you?′

  Rederick let out a brief laugh, his helmet hiding what was happening beneath. ′How are we going to defeat it?′ He turned to the death knights. ′What’s the plan here? Contain it, or destroy it? Both seem equally impossible. So, what now?′

  Morsan then gave his answer: ′We’re doing something inhuman to turn it into something that still has use for the future.′

  He pointed down the road. ′There’s a village at the end of this path. It’s where the plague began. A tavern there has a cellar so vast, it could be its own home. Inside, there are barrels of alcohol. If we blow it up, we take everything down. Destroy the heart, and the bleeding stops. That’s what needs to happen.′

  ′Now, it’s a good thing everyone is fully covered with cloth or metal so it can’t get to you,′ he continued, gesturing to the liquid that had disappeared into the ground. ′But still, we need to be careful around this stuff. We have to move quickly unless you want them to find us and get us.′

  Slowly, we made our way toward the village, or at least that’s what Morsan said. As I looked around, the trees shook without wind. Shadows flickered, shifting from one place to another. We’d intended to move quietly, but I had a feeling it was already too late for that. Thinking back, the others probably already knew. That’s why we had been moving so cautiously, slow and deliberate, like a snail, keeping an eye on everything. Rederick at the back, the Toden J?gers at the sides, and Albaras at the front.

  The daylight we once knew was gone. The deeper we went, the more it felt like a never-ending night, one that grew darker with every step, almost choking us. Despite the darkness, it seemed to stay just out of reach, allowing us a safe passage. Only Albaras dared to light a torch, the faint light flickering as we moved. But soon, the torch was no longer the only light. The woods thinned into stumps and fallen logs. Beyond them, the first buildings of the village came into view. In that moment, all our focus turned to the home of the dead, and it took notice of us.

  Something from the dark moved in. It tackled Albaras just as he held the point of light. The black ooze quickly covered his armor, sealing every gap. Before the creature could do anything else, a halberd pierced its head, pinning it to the ground, while another halberd decapitated it. It didn’t move.

  Albaras stood back up, aiming the torch at the shadow and revealing a woman. The liquid seeped into the ground, and as we looked, her body was scarred and rotting, a miserable sight. But as Rederick and I inspected her from a distance, we noticed something disturbing. Her body seemed more like a shell, no flesh left, only liquid filling the space around the bones, the heart, and when we looked at the head, smashed into the ground, the brain.′

  Before we could say anything, we were pushed ahead.

  ′It’s better to fight in the light than in the dark,′ Albaras said, a chuckle escaping him. I don’t know how he always managed to stay upbeat.

  The Toden J?gers moved to the back this time.

  ′Go into the light, children,′ Morsan said. His voice was firm, though he still tried to maintain the air of the knight we first met. Methussun remained silent. Small chains etched with symbols wrapped around his hands and halberd, almost like Rederick’s white bindings.

  ‘Stay behind me, Kian,’ Rederick said. ’We’re entering a den of something we shouldn’t even know exists, something worse than any god or devil.’