MTLNOVEL Chapter 133: [133] When the Hunt Becomes Routine
The morning air bit at Xavier's face as he checked Smoke's tack for the third time. Six days since the Thornbeast attack, and his reputation had taken on a life of its own. Whispered conversations followed him through camp each morning—fragments about the Thornslayer, the man who moved with golden lightning.
"You're preening again," Naomi observed, leading Ember past him toward the wagon train.
"I'm being a role model," Xavier replied, though he caught himself standing straighter when two guards nodded respectfully in his direction. "There's a difference."
"Right. And I'm sure it has nothing to do with how Marta keeps staring at you like you're some legendary hero come to life."
Xavier glanced toward the young woman in question—one of the survivors who'd taken to lingering near their section of the caravan.
"Green is not your color," he said.
Naomi snorted. "Please. I'm not jealous of a girl who thinks you walk on water. I'm concerned your ego's going to need its own horse soon, and we can't spare the rations."
Their banter was interrupted by Dalen's approach. The journey had carved new lines into the caravan master's face, deepening the map of sorrows around his eyes. He seemed to carry the weight of every lost soul in the sag of his shoulders.
"Thornslayer," Dalen said, the title rolling off his tongue like an accepted fact. "We've got tracks ahead. Fresh ones."
Xavier's attention sharpened. "How many?"
"Three, maybe four Vorthaks. Moving parallel to our route." Dalen's weathered hand gestured toward the tree line. "They've been shadowing us since dawn."
Naomi moved closer, her earlier teasing forgotten. "Are they hunting us?"
"Hard to say with Vorthaks," Dalen replied. "They're smarter than Thornbeasts. Could be testing our defenses."
Xavier studied the distant pines where morning shadows still clung to the snow. Somewhere in that maze of white and green, predator eyes watched them. Calculating. Waiting for the first sign of weakness.
"What's the plan?" he asked.
"Same as always. Stay together, keep moving, hope they lose interest." Dalen's tone suggested he didn't have much faith in that strategy. "But if they do attack..."
"They won't get close enough to matter," Xavier finished, his hand unconsciously moving to the ironwinter steel knife at his belt.
Dalen nodded once, then moved on to warn the other wagons. Xavier watched him go, noting how the man's shoulders carried the weight of responsibility for every life under his protection.
"You're doing it again," Naomi said.
"Doing what?"
"That thing where you look like you're planning something stupid and heroic."
Xavier mounted Smoke, settling into the familiar rhythm of the saddle. "I'm planning to keep us alive. Everything else is negotiable."
The caravan began its daily migration through the white expanse. Their numbers had stabilized at eleven—a reminder of how quickly fortune could turn in this frozen world. But those who remained had developed the lean efficiency of survivors, each person knowing their role without need for instruction.
Xavier and Naomi rode their usual position behind Efler's wagon, close enough for conversation but with clear sight lines to the surrounding terrain. The arrangement had become routine over the past week—a mobile triangle that could respond quickly to threats from any direction.
"Movement," Efler called softly from the driver's seat, her crossbow already in hand.
Xavier followed her gaze to a ridge roughly two hundred yards to their left. Four shapes moved against the skyline—too large to be anything other than Vorthaks, their crystalline fur catching what little sunlight penetrated the overcast sky.
"They're beautiful," Naomi murmured, and Xavier had to agree. Even knowing their lethal nature, there was something magnificent about the way they moved across the snow.
"Beautiful things kill you fastest in this world," Efler observed, tracking their movement with practiced eyes. "Stay ready."
The Vorthaks paced them for an hour, maintaining their distance but never disappearing entirely. A quiet contagion spread through the caravan. Conversations fell to hushed whispers, lost in the crunch of snow. The only sharp sounds were the clicks of crossbows being checked and the soft rasp of steel being drawn and re-sheathed.
Xavier's meter interface flickered at the edge of his consciousness, ready to activate at the first sign of actual combat. The familiar pink glow remained dormant for now, but he could feel it waiting—that reservoir of power that had allowed him to tear through the Thornbeast pack.
The attack, when it came, was nothing like the chaotic ambush they'd survived days earlier.
The Vorthaks struck with the chilling synchronicity of a wolf pack—two from the front to shatter the caravan's formation, one from each flank to shear off any escape. No howling charge, no wasteful display of aggression. Just four predators moving with deadly purpose.
Xavier's meter blazed to life as he drew his knife, the pink energy surrounding him like an aurora made manifest. Beside him, Naomi readied her own blade while Efler's crossbow swung toward the nearest threat.
"Left flank," Xavier called, spurring Smoke toward the Vorthak approaching from their vulnerable side. The creature was smaller than the pack leader but moved like a born killer.
His first strike took it across the shoulder, ironwinter steel parting crystalline fur and drawing that distinctive blue blood. The Vorthak spun with inhuman speed, massive paws seeking his throat.
Basic Combo: +5 points.
Xavier rolled backward in the saddle, feeling claws whisper past his face. Smoke reared, iron-shod hooves striking at the predator's skull.
Perfect Dodge: +10 points.
He took advantage of the opening, driving his knife into the Vorthak's exposed flank. Blue blood, thick as slush, spattered his coat.
Counter Strike: +15 points.
A crossbow bolt from Efler's wagon took another Vorthak in the eye. It staggered back with a silent shriek, Naomi already moving in to slit its throat. In less than five minutes, four crystalline bodies lay steaming on the snow, their forms already starting to deliquesce.
Zero human casualties.
Xavier glanced at the pink bar hovering in his vision. 95/250. A clean fight, but not a perfect one.
Fuck, missed the timing on that Perfect Strike again.
"That was almost disappointing," Naomi said, wiping blue blood from her blade. "After all that buildup."
The caravan resumed its progress, but the mood had shifted. What had felt like routine survival was becoming something else—a prolonged game of hunter and hunted where the rules kept changing.
"Five more days to Hearthome," Dalen announced during their midday rest. "If the weather holds and we don't hit any more obstacles."
Xavier looked toward the distant mountains where their destination lay hidden. Five days to reach Calypso. Five days to begin understanding what the Heart of Winter truly meant.
Five days to figure out why every battle made him crave the next one just a little bit more.
The afternoon brought two more encounters—a pair of Thornbeasts that Efler's crossbow dispatched before they could close distance, and a lone Vorthak that seemed more curious than hostile. Each fight added to Xavier's growing reputation, each victory making the survivors look at him with a mixture of gratitude and unease.
By evening, as they made camp in another abandoned waystation, Xavier was alone, staying away from the group. The others gathered around their cooking fire, sharing stories and salvaged wine.
Xavier climbed the waystation's watchtower, the crumbling wood groaning under his weight as he sought solitude from the cheerful din below.
Up here, the wind had teeth. It scoured the tower, smelling of ice and pine. The night sky it revealed defied every star chart he'd ever known on Earth—constellations twisted into luminous spirals, nebulae clotting the dark in impossible colors.
His breath misted in the cold air as he watched the lights play across distant glaciers. Even the stars were wrong here—too bright, too close, arranged in spirals that suggested meaning just beyond comprehension.
"Mind if I join you?"
Xavier turned to find Efler climbing the tower's wooden steps, her crossbow slung across her back.
"Depends. Are you here to admire the view or to lecture me about my combat inefficiency? The first is free. The second will cost you."