Hunt In Reverse

As night fell, the campfire's flames danced, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the assembled agents.

While their comrades maintained a vigilant watch at key points around their makeshift camp, the remaining agents huddled near the warmth of the fire, their conversation hushed.

"Do you think a fight will break out?" Miles Wagner asked, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "Surely not, right? Would the Crown Mountain Headmaster really risk a conflict with General Grant over a single disciple?"

"He's not just any disciple," Darius Johnson countered. "He's the most likely successor. He's the one who built Crown Mountain's reputation for chivalry over the past century. A true swordsman."

"Could such a man be a Leviasaur in disguise?" Miles wondered, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If he is, wouldn't that mean he's turned over a new leaf?"

"Quiet!" Darius hissed, kicking Miles lightly. General Grant was renowned for his hatred of vampires, and here was Miles, practically praising one. Was he trying to get them all punished?

"But he has a harem," another agent chimed in, leaning closer, "and they're often abducted. He's known for his chivalry, so perhaps he offended some powerful Leviasaurs, and they took revenge by... forcing themselves on his concubine while he was away?"

"Why not just hand over the suspect and let H.A.R.M. handle the interrogation?" Darius suggested, exasperated. "That would clear everything up."

He glared at his two colleagues. "If they refuse, and General Grant decides to attack, Crown Mountain will be renamed Blood Peak Mountain."

"I was terrified before coming here," Miles admitted with a chuckle, "but now it seems like we've stumbled onto a great opportunity. Colonel Banerjee said the old headmaster only has two days to decide. With two Wave Realm experts in our midst, nothing bad can happen!"

His words drew all eyes towards me, where I stood silently observing the flickering flames.

I listened to their idle chatter, my gaze fixed on the dense forest beyond the campfire's light.

Would a fight truly be avoided? I pondered. If so, why is she so anxious?

Should Crown Mountain surrender the swordsman, H.A.R.M. would withdraw, leaving their status as Cascadia's premier sword school intact. What, then, was fueling her unease?

Time slipped away, marked by the changing of the guard. Returning agents ate quickly, then retreated to their tents for a few hours of restless sleep.

Mendy Snow emerged from the forest, her sword held loosely at her side. She settled by the campfire, seemingly without appetite.

Noticing me leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed, she spoke, her voice low. "You haven't slept all night," she observed. "Is Colonel Banerjee making you watch me?"

I approached the campfire, neither confirming nor denying her suspicion.

A bitter smile touched Mendy's lips. "Afraid to let even one person escape?" she asked, her voice laced with scorn. "So eager to attack innocent people? No, not just innocent, but a group of chivalrous swordsmen who dedicate their lives to defending against vampires."

Seeing me walk away, she surged to her feet, her voice rising in desperation. "I've served H.A.R.M. for twenty years," she cried, clutching the three stars on her sleeve. "Can't you even trust me? Just this once!"

I paused, glancing back at her. "I trust you," I said, my voice even.

Mendy's breath hitched, her thoughts momentarily scattered. "Then I'm a fool," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I turned and disappeared into the damp forest. Her emotions were transparent, her every thought etched on her face. Even Wade Rivers would have seen through her facade.

I wasn't one to rush to judgment, but one thing was clear: despite the swirling rumors, the swordsman had offered no explanation for his concubine's actions, for the monstrous birth, for her gruesome demise.

Even an ordinary agent conjured up an excuse for him, yet he remained silent, shielded by Crown Mountain, defying H.A.R.M. Would he choose death over admitting to some disgrace?

And there was one more thing I knew.

I pressed my hand against my chest, focusing on the faint yet persistent aura emanating from the mountain. Whether the swordsman was a Leviasaur or not, one of that kind resided on Crown Mountain.

I could sense it, a faint echo resonating within me. But was this a one-sided perception, or could the other party detect my presence as well?

This discovery alone made the trip worthwhile.

Days blurred into nights, and three days vanished in the blink of an eye.

The agents snared rabbits and pheasants in the dense forest, but no Crown Mountain disciples dared to venture down.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of disciples remained sequestered on the mountain. The Angry Sword Elder, perched on the cliff like a gnarled statue, didn't so much as flinch. His sparse silver hair remained motionless, as if his sole purpose was to guard Hanes Valley and protect Crown Mountain's reputation from further damage.

Miles Wagner grilled pheasant on a flat stone, offering a piece to me first, then to Mendy. As the two Wave Realm experts, we were their lifeline, and our well-being was paramount.

I chewed the bland, rubbery meat, and a sudden wave of longing for Rose washed over me. No wonder she found joy in cooking; if I had to endure this culinary monotony for half a year, I might become a master chef myself.

Beside me, Mendy ate with a stoic expression, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. She seemed determined to consume every last morsel, as if preparing for a final stand.

The sight stirred a pang of sympathy within me. Twenty years of dedicated service, potentially wasted…

As the grease congealed on the cooling stone and the campfire's flames dwindled, several agents rose to begin their patrol of the dense forest.

Suddenly, I raised my voice.

"I'll take the patrol tonight," I announced. "The rest of you get some sleep."

Miles Wagner and the others exchanged surprised glances, then chuckled wryly. "Captain Kane, you're too kind," one of them said. "We've been on duty for decades and have never seen such consideration."

After days of interaction, they knew I didn't make empty promises. With expressions of gratitude, they retreated to their tents.

Mendy Snow's grip tightened on her sword as she watched me rise.

My face, illuminated by the fading firelight, was a canvas of shifting shadows. She couldn't understand how I had seen through her carefully constructed facade, but a pang of sympathy resonated within her.

"You should rest as well," she urged. "Let me take over tonight."

The young man was undeniably gifted, intelligent, and strikingly handsome. Aside from his occasional tendency towards provocation, he was practically flawless. It would be a tragedy for him to die needlessly at the foot of Crown Mountain.

I met her gaze and said softly, "Hurry up. I'm in a rush." Since even H.A.R.M. couldn't sway her, further words were futile.

Mendy closed her eyes, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. She drew her sword, the sharp clang of steel echoing through the night.

But another sound, even more menacing, erupted from the depths of the forest. A dazzling golden light converged into a single point, then exploded outwards, transforming into a luminous dragon that soared towards the sky, its momentum breathtaking.

An elderly man, his eyes sharp, his expression resolute, emerged from the shadows, a three-foot green blade gleaming in his hand. The raw power of the Wave Realm surged from him, unleashing a torrent of sword energy that shattered trees and tore through the undergrowth.

This was the strike of a master, honed over a century of dedicated practice.

I stood firm, my black uniform rippling in the wind, my dark eyes reflecting the golden light of the approaching attack. A surge of power coursed through me, and I prepared to meet the challenge.