The Mirrorjaws had been hunting in pairs.
Etzel was beginning to suspect they hadn’t been the only hunters in the valley.
He looked once more toward the narrow disturbance in the grass. North. Whatever had made it had gone north. The dead creature lay behind him, its throat opened by one clean wound. Etzel wanted to follow the trail.
That was the problem. He really wanted to follow it.
DK stood beside the corpse. “We leave.”
Etzel tightened his grip on the spear. “Yes.”
Then he turned away.
They walked. Twenty steps passed before Etzel glanced back. Nothing moved. Thirty. Still nothing. At fifty, the dead creature disappeared behind the rocks.
Etzel exhaled. “Aren’t you going to stop me?”
DK looked at him. “Are you going back?”
“No.”
“Then why would I stop you?”
Etzel frowned. “You’re becoming annoyingly reasonable.”
“I have always been reasonable.”
“You have amnesia. You can’t prove that.”
DK considered this. “Neither can you.”
Etzel opened his mouth. Closed it. “I preferred you when your arguments were worse.”
They continued toward the boundary. Etzel did not look back again. But he remembered the wound. One strike. Clean. Deep. Whatever had killed that creature had not fought it for long. Perhaps not at all.
Etzel waited until they were safely outside Sector 14 before contacting Maerin. He sent the location first, then a description of the corpse.
Her reply came quickly:
Maerin: Species?
Etzel: Unknown.
Maerin: Estimated time of death?
Etzel glanced at DK. “Hours.”
Etzel typed it:
Etzel: DK estimated a few hours.
A pause.
Maerin: Core removed?
Etzel stopped walking. He thought back. The body. The wound. The surrounding ground. “No.”
DK looked at him. “No.”
Etzel typed:
Etzel: Core was still there.
Another pause. Longer this time. Then Sivenne appeared in the conversation.
Sivenne: So not a Hunter.
Maerin answered before Etzel could:
Maerin: We don’t know that.
Sivenne: Why would a Hunter leave a Core?
Maerin: Why would every Hunter take one?
Sivenne: Money.
Maerin: Usually.
Etzel smiled faintly:
Etzel: I’m enjoying watching someone else get corrected for once.
Sivenne: Leave.
Tessa joined:
Tessa: Was the body eaten?
Etzel’s smile disappeared. He pictured it. “No.”
He typed:
Etzel: No.
Tessa: Harvested?
Etzel: No.
Maerin: Signs of a fight?
Etzel looked at DK again. The knight shook his head.
Etzel: Almost none.
Silence followed. Etzel continued walking. Then Tessa sent another message:
Tessa: Maybe it wasn’t hunting.
Etzel stopped. DK turned. “What?”
Etzel showed him the message. The knight read it. Etzel looked back toward the distant valley.
The Mirrorjaws had hunted. They had maneuvered prey. Coordinated. Attacked. Fed. But the dead creature they had found? One wound. Nothing taken. Nothing eaten. Nothing harvested.
Etzel typed slowly:
Etzel: Then why kill it?
Nobody answered immediately. That was answer enough.
Maerin checked the available Sector 14 reports while Etzel continued home. There had been no confirmed high-threat migration, no abnormal population collapse, no registered incident matching what Etzel had described, and no known reason for the kill.
Etzel read the summary:
Etzel: “No known reason” is becoming one of my least favorite phrases.
Sivenne: You liked it before?
Etzel stared at the message:
Etzel: I’m beginning to question your purpose in this group.
Sivenne: Emotional support.
Etzel stopped walking. DK looked at him. “What?”
“She did it again.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Another message appeared:
Maerin: Do not return to Sector 14 today.
Etzel typed immediately:
Etzel: I wasn’t planning to.
Nothing came back for several seconds. Then:
Maerin: Really?
Etzel frowned:
Etzel: Why does everyone sound surprised when I make good decisions?
Sivenne: Historical evidence.
Tessa: I’m glad you left.
Etzel’s expression softened slightly:
Etzel: Me too.
He put the communicator away. That last part was true. Curiosity still pulled at him, but curiosity was not an instruction. He was beginning to understand the difference.
On the way home, Etzel checked what he had gained from the Mirrorjaws: two reflective plates and one E-Rank Core.
He could almost hear money. Unfortunately, the law could not. Until he entered the official Hunter Registry, none of it could legally be sold through the recognized Hunter economy.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Etzel adjusted the bag. “Technically, I’m carrying money.”
DK glanced at him. “You cannot sell it.”
“Legally, I’m carrying heavy rocks.”
“You could use them.”
Etzel looked at him. Then his eyes drifted downward. Toward DK’s shield. The damage from the dungeon remained visible.
DK noticed immediately. “No.”
Etzel raised his hands. “I said nothing.”
“You looked.”
“I’m allowed to look.”
“No.”
Etzel glanced at the bag, then at the shield again. DK shifted the shield away.
Etzel smiled. “We’ll revisit this.”
“No.”
“That sounds like fear.”
“It is judgment.”
“Very similar from this side.”
Getting home without Ismera noticing his injuries would have been easier if Etzel had possessed any talent whatsoever for getting home without Ismera noticing his injuries.
He entered quietly. Closed the door. Took three steps. His mother appeared.
Etzel stopped. Ismera looked at him, then at his sleeve. The fabric had been cut where the Mirrorjaw claw had caught him. Etzel looked at it too. He had forgotten about that.
Ismera folded her arms. “What happened?”
Etzel considered his options. There were not many good ones. “Training.”
Her eyes moved to the scratch on his forearm. “What kind of training?”
“Enthusiastic?”
“Etzel.”
“Physical.” That was technically true.
Neris appeared behind their mother. She looked at his arm, then his shoulder, then at him. “Did a tree attack you while you were running?”
Etzel pointed at her. “Aggressive tree.”
Neris nodded seriously. “Looks like you lost.”
“I’m alive.”
“The tree probably is too.”
Etzel lowered his hand. “That argument became hostile surprisingly quickly.”
Ismera was not amused. That was more dangerous. She stepped closer and checked his arm. The cut was shallow and cleaned already. Nothing serious. That helped. A little.
“You’re doing too much.”
Etzel smiled. “I’m young.”
“That is not protection from stupidity.”
Neris nodded. “She’s right.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“The winning one.”
Etzel looked between them. “I feel unsupported in my own home.”
Neris smiled. “Emotional support?”
Etzel froze. “No.”
“What?”
“Never say that again.”
Now Neris looked genuinely confused. Etzel walked past her. “Long story.”
“About a tree?”
“Especially about the tree.”
That evening, Etzel sat alone in his room. Mostly alone. DK occupied the chair near the window.
Etzel opened his System records. Level Five. Still.
He looked through the recent progression notifications. Weak creatures: small gains. Dungeon creatures: more meaningful. Boss: Level Five. Then the Mirrorjaws:
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
Event
Mirrorjaw Stalker Defeated
Status
Meaningful Solo Combat Contribution Confirmed
Progress
Level Progression: Significant