Wind howled through the forest, sending dry leaves swirling across the road. As the carriage rolled to a stop, Erik stepped down, his boots crunching against the dirt.
"I don't know why you're going there, but watch your back," Don said, gripping the reins tighter than usual. "I haven't heard anything good about Hoza Village lately."
They'd traveled together for a while. The concern in his voice was genuine.
Erik adjusted his coat and gave him a small nod. "That's why I'm going. Take care, Don."
Without another word, he turned and started down the road.
"Be careful out there! Hope we meet again soon!" Don called after him—loud, as always.
The sky was overcast, but golden rays pierced through in patches, casting a dim, ethereal glow across the trees. It didn't look like rain was coming anytime soon.
After a long walk, Erik stopped before a weathered wooden sign:
Hoza Village.
Small—even for a village. Maybe twenty-five or thirty houses, a single inn, a bar, and a few scattered shops.
He walked the quiet streets. His eyes landed on a bounty poster nailed to a wooden post.
The name at the top caught his attention.
"Elsa Wingsfiel," he muttered.
He read it again. Then turned, scanning the area. Time to find someone who knew where she was.
An elderly man sitting by the roadside caught his eye. Judging by his age and calm posture, he likely knew the villagers well. Erik started walking toward him.
He'd only taken a few steps when a young boy darted in front of him.
"Are you a monster hunter?" the boy asked, eyes wide with curiosity.
Erik stopped, sighing through his nose. "No."
The boy glanced at the sword on his hip. "But you've got a sword. Don't you hunt monsters?"
"I do."
"Then doesn't that make you a monster hunter?"
Erik's hand briefly tightened on the hilt before he shook his head. "I kill monsters. That doesn't mean I'm a monster hunter. I'm a bounty hunter—there's a difference."
He stepped past the boy, heading back toward the elder—but then paused. Glancing over his shoulder, he asked,
"Hey. You know Elsa Wingsfiel?"
The boy opened his mouth to answer but stopped himself. He smirked. "Hmm... I don't know. I might have seen her somewhere around here."
Erik understood. With a small sigh, he pulled a copper coin from his pocket and held it up.
The boy's eyes lit up. "Follow me, good sir!" he said, darting off.
Erik followed as they weaved through narrow paths and past small houses, eventually stopping in front of a large wooden sign:
Boke's Inn.
Big, for a place this remote. Then again, it made sense—Hoza Village bordered some of the best boar and deer hunting grounds in the region.
They passed the inn and stopped in front of a modest house.
"This is Sister Elsa's place," the boy said, grinning.
Erik tossed him the coin, which he caught before running off.
Elsa Wingsfiel's husband had been the first recorded victim of the Black Monster.
Erik walked up to the door and knocked. An old woman answered, scrutinizing him for a moment until he held up the bounty poster. Her expression shifted immediately. She turned and shouted inside.
"Elsa! Elsa! Another one's here looking for you!"
Without another word, she disappeared into the house.
Moments later, a young blonde woman stepped out. Striking green eyes. Features too refined for a village girl. The kind of beauty you'd expect from a noble—elegant, but marred by exhaustion. The dark circles beneath her eyes, the stiffness in her expression. Sadness clung to her like a second skin.
"Are you the one who put up the bounty?" Erik asked.
"Yes. Please, come in."
That was unusual. Villagers usually answered hunters at the doorstep—quick, nervous, wanting them gone. But she'd invited him inside without hesitation.
Before entering, Erik glanced over his shoulder. He could feel it—the weight of eyes watching him. Following him.
Still, he stepped in and took a seat at the wooden table. Elsa sat across from him.
"I heard this happened three months ago," Erik said, resting his hands on the table. "The poster's light on details. Can you tell me what happened? Anything you didn't write down?"
She exhaled slowly. "There isn't much more to say about the monster itself, but... I can tell you what happened. From the beginning."
She paused, fingers curling in her lap.
"It was evening. My husband had just returned from hunting. He never left the house after that—he'd help me with chores or take care of his mother. But that night, someone knocked. One of his friends."
Her voice stayed steady.
"They talked briefly. Then my husband said he had to go into the woods. His friends needed help. And then... he left."
She took a breath, steady but hollow.
"It got dark. He didn't come back. Then—another knock. One of his friends. Covered in blood. Said a huge monster came out of nowhere and attacked them. My husband and two others stayed behind so the rest could escape."
Elsa looked away, reaching for a cup of water. She took a small sip before continuing.
"The next day, a group went to the site. There was nothing left. Only blood."
Most people broke down telling stories like this. Elsa didn't even flinch. Either she had never truly loved him, or she'd told this story so many times it no longer hurt.
Erik studied her a moment longer.
"How many people went into the woods that night?"
"Eight... maybe nine," she said after a pause.
"Did you see anything unusual afterward? Claw marks? Hair? Blood that wasn't red? Anything?"
She shook her head. "No."
Erik's gaze drifted around the room. It was neat. Sparse. Not many belongings. But next to him stood a bookshelf—sturdy, polished, filled with expensive-looking books.
"You read a lot?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He leaned slightly, scanning the titles. Literature. Not cheap. Books like these were only found in royal libraries or sold within noble circles.
His gaze returned to Elsa.
"If you don't mind me asking... what's a noble like you doing out here?"