CHAPTER 187: 187. HUNTING THE HUNTERS

As Leo sat down on his sleek black horse, the morning sun filtered through the dense trees of the Deltou Colossale Forest, illuminating him in patches. His dark cloak fluttered lightly in the breeze, the black neck mask hanging loosely around his throat, ready to be pulled up, and his voltsteel knuckle gloves glinted faintly, catching the light.

His crimson eyes were sharp as he scanned the edge of the forest, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck.

He looked at Lucian, who was sitting on his own horse with a determined, shadowed expression on his face from his matching cloak and neck mask, and asked, "Ready to move?"

Unaware of the danger pursuing her, Velmera mounted her horse and Lucian’s gray eyes darted toward her in the distance. He mumbled, "I’m ready," as his jaw tensed. "Let’s keep her safe."

Leo leaned in and whispered calmly but firmly. "Avoid drawing attention to your kills. by the way, You can kill, right?

Lucian’s eyes hardened and his lips quirked into a dry, humorless laugh. His voice was firm but low as he said, "I’ll do whatever it takes." He didn’t say anything more before pushing his horse into a trot and disappearing into the shadowy depths of the forest.

With her violet eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement, Erin rode up on her horse, her silver-white robe flowing like soft moonlight, and her white neck mask tucked under her chin.

"He really seems like your real little brother, Reo, doing anything to save his loved one," she said, her tone teasing but warm. "Tell me, was he your lost brother in your past life too? You both act so alike, though he’s softer than you."

As he adjusted his cloak, Leo’s eyes narrowed and a glimmer of irritation passed across his face. "Enough with the family talk, Erin. Did you get Adrian on board?"

Erin nodded, her silver braid swaying as her smile grew confident. "Done. As soon as we give the signal, he will look after Princess Thalia. Adrian doesn’t play around, so she’s in capable hands."

Leo gave a contented grunt, but he continued to stare at her, observing the slight change in her face. Erin becomes a curious whisperer. "You left a shadow wraith with Vivien, didn’t you? She’s safe at the camp—might be better to pull it back for the hunt."

Leo shook his head, urging his horse forward, his voice firm. "Not taking chances. Vivien stays protected." His horse moved into the forest, his form fading into the shadows of the tall trees.

Erin sighed as she watched him leave, a warm smile pulling at her lips. "Aunt was right—what a protective fool he is."

Her violet eyes drifted to Rin, who was mounting her horse near the Fritzl camp, her dark pink hunting outfit catching the morning light.

Erin’s smile softened, her hand brushing the white-gold knife in her pocket. She drew it out, its fancy design glinting faintly as she murmured, "No wonder Mother loves him too much." Tucking the knife away, she spurred her horse forward.

The forest was quiet, too quiet, as the second day of the Royal Hunting Event began. Leaves rustled softly, and strange creatures called faintly in the distance.

Velmera hid in the bushes, her crossbow ready, its wood matching her green hunting clothes.

Her eyes focused on a Hornshide Deer eating in a small clearing. The deer’s glowing antlers lit up the wet grass. Velmera breathed slowly, her body still, ready to shoot.

Cult members watch her from the shadowy treetops above. They wore white masks that concealed their faces, moved silently as they positioned themselves for a kidnapping, and moved like ghosts, their cloaks blending with the trees. They also tore off the house badges they used to infiltrate.

With their hands poised over concealed knives, they waited for Velmera to lower her defenses.

At Point A, Erin stopped her horse in a thick part of the forest. The horse snorted as she got off, her violet eyes closing for a moment. She felt bloodlust nearby—five mercenaries.

A sly smile spread across her face as she pulled her white mask over her nose and tightened her hood. Her sword came out with a soft sound, catching bits of sunlight through the trees.

Behind the mask, she muttered, excited and low, "Couldn’t have picked a better spot." Grasping her sword more tightly, she extended her shoulders.

At point B, The ground was soft beneath the horse’s hoofs as Lucian guided it into a small, open space. His gray eyes scanned the trees, sensing the forest’s hidden obstacles. After lowering his hood and pulling his mask up to conceal his face, he dismounted the horse.

In the middle of the clearing, he drove his longsword, its blade glowing dimly, into the ground. Silently and smoothly, he drew his two short swords, their edges gleaming, and walked toward the trees.

His voice was calm but firm as he said, "Let’s see who’s hunting whom." Although Lucian wasn’t their target, the mercenaries believed they were in control. He’d pull them out and make them sorry they crossed his people.

At Point C, four mercenaries hid high in old oak trees, their cloaks blending with the leaves. They held crossbows, daggers, and a short spear, but they were getting restless.

"Why’re we stuck up here like damn owls?" one grumbled, his voice rough and low. "Could’ve gutted those noble brats by now."

"Orders," another said sharply, glancing down. "The boss said wait. We strike when they’re distracted."

A third leaned back, grinning greedily. "Hope it’s that high-bounty kid. Bag him, and we’re set—wine, women, a proper castle."

The fourth laughed, low and nasty. "I’ll take the women. Let the kid squeal first."

Crack.

Blood splattered as the first mercenary fell dead onto a branch after a bullet ripped through his head. The others lost confidence and froze, their eyes wide with terror.

The second shouted, "Ambush!" and grabbed his crossbow.

Crack.

He was hit by another bullet, painted the tree trunk with blood, and fell to the ground through the branches.

Panicked, the third screamed, "Move, move!" and grabbed his spear. Though his heart was pounding, the fourth attempted to hide, but the shooter persisted.

Leo was perched on a high ridge far away, his dark cloak blending with the darkness. Through his rifle’s scope, its barrel gleamed dimly, and his crimson eyes glowed.

Clink

A spent shell he pushed out glistened as it dropped into the bushes.

"One less pest," he said coldly, almost laughing. He steadied the rifle and channeled wind mana. When he pulled the trigger, the bullet hit the third mercenary’s chest with an unusually high acceleration. He collapsed silently.

Leo reloaded, his movements fluid and swift. The final shot went unnoticed as the last mercenary leaped to the ground and fled in sheer terror. He was struck by it and died among the fallen leaves.

Leo lowered his rifle, a sharp smirk on his face, his red eyes gleaming. The cult and their hired mercenaries were merely targets in his sights; the forest was his.