The Tribuston Carnival

Who was that mysterious lady? Why was she chasing after that rag-wearing adventurer? How strong was she? Was she a Nobilis-Class Hunter? A stream of questions began flowing in my head out of nowhere but nobody could answer me. After all, everyone else was also befuddled by how quickly everything happened.

Soon after she left, only the sound of tense breathing remained within the tavern.

Everyone was casting fearful and pitiful glances at the twitching muscular body of the man on the corner table, whose throat had a terrifying gaping hole. Life was seeping out of his eyes.

His hood was off, and a squarish bearded face grimacing in pain was revealed. Perhaps, it was already too late to save him, but even if it was possible, who would be brave enough to help him after the spectacle they had just witnessed?

The fear of that lady had already penetrated my bones, but I instead felt a burning desire in me that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I wanted to be like her. I wanted her body, her strength. I wanted to BE her and at the same time, I wanted to be closer to her.

Uncle Albert's body also relaxed after that mysterious 'frail' figure left. Turning to look at him, I was amazed by the sweat trickling down his forehead, perhaps the sense of danger that he felt was far beyond what I could experience with my strength.

"...Nobilis Class Hunter… at the very least… why is there such a person in this border city?", he whispered to himself while slumping down in his chair. That was in utter contrast to how he usually behaved but it only emphasized the strength of a Nobilis-Class Hunter in my mind.

I was amazed by how casually those Hunters could murder someone in broad daylight without any repercussions.

I was amazed by how casually they could cast every resistance aside.

I was amazed by how a casual reveal of their aura could make even someone as steady as Uncle Albert feel physically and mentally drained.

More than any of that, I was amazed by the lack of disgust and revulsion I felt while looking at the twitching body of the victim, soon to be labeled as a corpse.

When was I as emotionless as this? I couldn't answer myself.

The food that I was savoring bite by bite was now stuck in my throat. I didn't want to eat anymore. I was starving for strength.

I wanted to know more about the killer and who else would be a better choice than the victim himself. He wasn't dead yet, it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes, and maybe acquire some information on his killer.

It was risky. It was dangerous. Perhaps, I would even lose my life while doing that but I was prepared to take that risk because I knew that I would need to wait for years for another chance like that.

I stood up and looked at Rowan, who was sitting to my left. He had his head down as he was attempting to swallow his 'grass'. I didn't know if he was even more indifferent and emotionless than me or if he was scared stiff, but his expression was still the same.

Considering how he had always been a weird one, I stood up and walked step by step towards the corner table. The servers saw my movement but none of them voiced to stop me. Most likely, they were also curious about the incident and wanted to know more about it but were scared of the consequences of offending the mysterious killer. Now that there was a volunteer like me willing to do the job for them, why would they stop me?

Uncle Albert, though, stood up again and walked alongside me. He didn't stop me, respecting my determination to help and probe the dying man, and perhaps only intended to protect me. I gave him a thankful glance and continued.

Arriving near the table, I was afraid to reach out my hand. The tablecloth was already soaked with his blood and a stream of it was still gushing out of his body in a thin stream.

His desperate and frantic eyes turned to me, hoping that I would be able to save him but I could only respectfully shake my head. I was respectful because first, he was dying, and second because I was sure that a Nobilis Class Hunter won't be hunting just anybody. He was bound to be more powerful than my mute protector. Thus, I didn't risk offending him in his final moments.

Hopelessly, he reached into his robes with trembling hands and took out a piece of paper, soaked in his blood.

I took that from him and kept it in my robe. It would perhaps prove to be an important clue to tracing that dangerous lady. Moreover, it was definitely related to his last wish. Even if I couldn't do anything with it in the end, I could at least give it a try. As for cooperating with the local authorities by giving them such clues, I didn't even think of that. Who in their right mind would offend a Nobilis-Class Hunter to be a good citizen?

We were citizens of the border cities. While we still followed the law most of the time, everyone was aware that if times of crisis really came, each individual would be left to fend for themselves and their families. Hence, why would I muffle my curiosity when the investigation of the city authorities was bound to be useless?

After that, he tried to move his mouth, like he was trying to tell me something but only hisses and gasps came out of his mouth.

Wheezing for one last time, his head twitched once more as his eyes rolled back to his head and it slammed on the table.

I didn't know what to do as I stood there blankly, my hand clutching the part of my robe where I kept the slip of paper he had given me.

A hand suddenly patted my shoulder, startling me. It was Uncle Albert, who whispered, "he's dead," in my ear and reached out to close his whitened eyes.

Upon seeing that, I felt the urge to cry. How fragile was life if a Hunter could snuff it with a wave of their hands? Would I meet the same end someday, unable to help anyone, and only end up bringing sorrow to my loved ones from the lands beyond their reach?

Uncle Albert didn't give me any time to consider any of those questions, as after closing the eyes of that corpse, he seemed to have become quite nervous.

Turning around, he took my hand and walked back to the table, where he gestured to Rowan to follow him and placed the bill on the table.

A couple of servers blocked our way outside, approaching us with the intent to ask us questions, but Uncle Albert shook his head at them and revealed his aura.

It didn't give me much pressure but I realized that he was at least an Initium-Class Hunter as well. This was another huge surprise but it came at such a time that I didn't bother giving it a second thought and accepted it as it was, only feeling more rest assured with him guiding us.

On my very first day out on my long journey, I stumbled upon a brutal murder by a frail-looking lady and came to know that the strange yet trustworthy Uncle Albert that I had been pestering and nagging for years casually was a strong Hunter as well. Was I a jinx?

When he released his aura, the servers that had appeared to block our way quickly stepped aside and bowed respectfully as we passed by them.

Coming out, another beautiful sunset graced my eyes. The hubbub of the crowd worked well to calm my flustered self after everything bizarre that I had witnessed inside.

Uncle Albert didn't stop his gait and kept walking towards the place where our carriage was supposed to be parked.

It was certainly unusual that he was planning to leave the city at night. Coupled with the nervousness he had revealed when he closed the eyes of the victim inside the tavern, I knew that something was going on.

Considering how anxious he was, perhaps, we needed to escape the city with that information to avoid repercussions. I didn't stop to question him though because if that truly was the case, I could be held responsible for that as well since I probed the dying victim.

One thing that I COULD do though, was to acquire more clues to figure everything out without disturbing him and so I took out and unfurled the blood-soaked clue I had kept in my robe.

It was folded in such a complicated manner that only after a few minutes was I able to unfurl it without tearing it down.

It was hastily written in cursive handwriting and was written by someone in a rush, as evident from the strokes of ink splattered on the sides. Considering how only three words were written there, it was fairly obvious that he had written it when his killer was already standing at the entrance.

It read, [The Tribuston Carnival].