Chapter 27 — The Hunt Begins
Dawn broke pale and thin over the horizon, the kind of light that made everything look washed-out and uneasy. The group emerged from the treeline onto a stretch of manicured grass — the sudden shift from wild forest to cultivated land almost jarring.
Before them, rising like a wall, stood the gates of the Hallowthorn Preserve — the Noble Hunt Grounds. Massive oak doors bound in silvered steel, engraved with curling patterns of stags, gryphons, and wolves.
The guards wore crimson cloaks and gold-chased armor, halberds gleaming in the morning light. Their eyes flicked over Kael, lingering a moment longer than he liked.
One stepped forward. "Noble participants only. Servants remain outside the hunting perimeter."
Kael's gaze slid to the cluster of richly dressed youths behind him. They'd been preening and whispering since dawn, most ignoring him entirely.
SIDE's dry voice cut in. —You've got the look of a man who'd rather break their gates than walk through them.
"Not today," Kael muttered.
The tallest noble, Lord Carrin, smirked as he stepped past Kael. "Try not to embarrass yourself, Cromwell. These hunts aren't for common blades."
Kael didn't answer. His attention was on the gate sigils — faint threads of mana pulsed within them, old magic bound to rules. And those rules… he could feel them.
—Barrier spells, SIDE confirmed. They're tuned to allow certain beasts in and out. But something's off.
Inside, horns sounded — deep, resonant blasts rolling across the grounds. The gates opened with a groan, revealing the first stretch of the Preserve: rolling hills dotted with ancient oaks, mist coiling low across the grass.
Beyond that mist, Kael's eyes caught a flicker of movement — too fast, too wrong for the standard hunt prey.
SIDE's voice sharpened. —That's not a deer. And it's not supposed to be here.
The nobles surged forward, eager to claim their kills. Kael followed at an unhurried pace, hand resting on his sword. He could feel the pull again — that cold, threaded through the air, pointing him toward something deeper in the grounds.
Something watching.