Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Monster Hunting 401
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
Chapter 1
How many times had I seen my own blood, pouring down my arms? How many times had I suffered wounds that would have killed any lesser being in a single blow? Honestly, I was beginning to forget what life had been before my transformation from a nurse into a killing machine known as a Venator. And I didn’t know if that was really a good thing.
“I’ve got him!” shouted one of the nameless hunters from behind me, his voice excited and exhilarated. Ropes were in his hands, attached to long wicked hooks that had just dug into the wings of a particularly nasty wyvern.
This immense beast was the size of a barn, with long leathery wings that stretched out to almost twenty feet in length. Its body was black as the night’s sky, wormlike, with four protruding claws on its belly—claws that had dug into my arms, tearing through the flesh as if it were nothing more than tissue paper. But nevertheless, it had fallen into our trap. On both sides, our hunters had managed to throw their hook-ropes into the creature’s wings.
Teams of men and women on both sides grabbed onto the ropes and heaved with all their might, forcing the beast’s wings to stretch out, suspending the creature in midair. Like a fly caught in a spider’s web, the wyvern shrieked and twisted, trying to get free, but the combined strength of our hunting clan was too much for it to resist.
The beast, held suspended in midair, was no match for my arrows, nor the arrows of the eight students behind me, all who had been hiding in the bushes, waiting for this opportunity. Arrow after blood-soaked arrow flew through the air, riddling the nightmare full of holes. Black blood oozed from the beast as it jerked, left to right, in one final attempt to be free. And then, it slumped over, dead, hanging from the ropes that suspended its wings in place.
A routine exercise for the new recruits. Nothing special about it, save for the curious creatures who stood in the distance, observing our every movement. They called themselves the Masara and they were not from our realm. These blue gembeasts, creatures formed from blue crystal, were explorers and researchers, scientists from a place far, far from our own world. Meant to sail through our world in complete secrecy, they had been stranded by a terrible foe who had been hunting them. That same foe would go on to destroy nearly the whole of humanity.
I was standing at the cusp of finally learning the truth about the monsters that plagued our land, and where they came from. No one had ever been able to figure out how the Titans arrived, or why they came here. But those Masara, quietly observing our hunting methods in the distance, knew the answer. And they weren’t quite willing to share the truth with us yet.
The Masara were intelligent, that was for sure, for they understood that this information was of the utmost importance to the remnants of humanity. And, proving their own savvy, they refused to just hand over what they knew. They had an agenda of their own and while the idea of mutual cooperation was greatly appealing to my own side, they were less enthused about the prospect of joining us. We would need to prove ourselves to them.
“Well?” I shouted, turning to face the creatures as they watched in silence. The Council, as I called it, was composed of six blue Masara, tall and featureless. Their octagonal heads swiveled towards me in unison. They could not communicate in our own language, nor even comprehend that our language was anything more than mere animal sounds. The telepathy charm I wore was our only link to communication. The only way I could prove that humanity was indeed intelligent.
Your methods of hunting are acceptable, the lead Masara said. They had no names of their own, but I nicknamed him Brain, simply because he was the one in charge of the whole operation. He was the only one who ever spoke. Though your extraction methods are crude and inefficient.
I glanced over at the dead wyvern to see the hunting team busy harvesting the creature for Bloodpoints and crafting material. We make do with what we have, I replied. Are you satisfied or do you wish to watch us kill yet another Titan on your behalf?
I detect hostility in you, Avery. A primal emotion that leads you to angry, aggressive decisions. Useful for hunting and killing. One might call it a flaw, but we believe anger to be part of the survival drive of organic life forms, Brain ranted. Working with the Masara was a bit trying, for they had a habit of looking at everything in a cold and clinical manner, often describing observations about me or my people. It was jarring at first, endearing for a short while and then mostly just annoying.
I am frustrated with you. You hold secrets that we need in order to survive, yet you insist that we perform tricks for you to satisfy your curiosity. Men and women will die without the secrets that you carry.
There was silence for a moment from Brain. He was conferring with the others through a short series of soft “aup” sounds. They all bristled back, making different variations of the same sound, some high and some low. One Masara in particular began to shake quite violently, its vibrations giving off a strange ringing sound.
