The Divine Hunter

dded.
Roy did as he was asked.

Berschel gulped down the whole bottle of potion, desiring the sweet release it would bring.
It was still daytime, but a deafening silence enveloped the field.
Not a soul stirred, save for the young man who was breathing heavily.

Roy and Huckle stared at the poor man in silence, and Huckle sat down and put his son’s hand on his chest.
He gazed at his dying son lovingly, as if the deformed face didn’t faze him.
He whispered, “We’ll fish somewhere else after this, son.
There’s a good spot right outside the temple.
The girls always wash their clothes there.
They’re really pretty.
Tell me if you fancy anyone.
I’ll see if I can match you two up.” Huckle sniffled.
“You’ve never even held a girl’s hand before.
Remember the tailor’s daughter? You blushed at the sight of her.
No can do, son.
You need to marry and raise a family.
I want a grandkid, you hear that?”

Berschel’s face was turning green, and his face contorted.
He curled up for a moment and loosened up the next.
His whole body was spasming, down until his fingertips.
The hatchlings under his skin were wreaking havoc in his body, desperate to flee.

A long, long time later, Berschel finally slumped, and he showed no pain anymore.
Even the bulges caused by the hatchlings were starting to disappear.
Aside from his greenish face, he looked just like a normal, young man.

Berschel heaved a long sigh, smiling weakly at his father.
“H-Huckle…”

“I’m here, son.
I’m listening.” Huckle held his son’s hands tightly, his veins popping.

“I lov…”

“What did you say, son?”

Berschel’s eyes gleamed as he put the last of his life force into that one final message.
In the final moments of his life, he saw his father as a hero.
Someone who stayed with him until the end.
“I love you.”

“I love you too, son.” Huckle held the corpse of his son and cried painfully.

Roy watched on in silence.
There were a few times he wanted to say something, but he kept quiet to let Huckle vent his sorrow.

It wasn’t until sundown that Huckle finally stood up, though he was wobbling.
The sunset was radiant, but it failed to glow Huckle up.
He looked pale and gaunt, as if he had aged ten years in an afternoon.
He wiped his tears away with his grimy sleeve before going up to Roy.
“Th-thank you, Roy.
For searching for Berschel a-and killing that monster.” His voice sounded hoarse, as if something were stuck in his throat.
“C-come to the b-bakery tomorrow to c-claim your reward,” he stammered.

“Sorry I couldn’t save him.
And I even…”

“No.
This isn’t your fault.
You warned me.
All I can do now is accept his fate.
This is what Melitele wants.”

Roy massaged his cheeks to keep himself from crying.
He mustered a consolation.“My condolences.
His soul is with Melitele now.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take him back to town for you.” He looked at the corpse.
“You’re injured.”

“I want to do this myself.
This is the last journey.” Huckle hunkered down to take his son.
The weight of the corpse almost crushed him, and the wound on his chest was torn, drenching the bandage.
Even so, he gritted his teeth, going back to Ellander in silence.

Roy saw him off.
For a moment, he wondered if he should’ve told Huckle about the scar he’d found on Berschel’s stomach, the one that could have been caused by a human.
No.
He just lost his son.
He can’t take any more than that.
This can wait until he settles down a little.

Roy escorted them back to the city gates, where the guards flocked to them.
Since he didn’t want Tailles to harass him, Roy quickly darted back into the wilds, sprinting toward the silent darkness.
There, abandoned plains and bushes grew abundant, but Roy only had eyes for the darkness ahead.
Rage took over him as he recalled the scene of Berschel’s death.
A fire was lit within him, and he needed to douse it.

***

It took him a long run, but he finally calmed down, though he was already in the forest by then.
Roy sat down and spaced out for a while before thinking about the fight against the arachnomorph.
Observe is one hell of a skill.
Noticing the monster’s stats and skills before the fight gave him ample time to make the necessary preparations to face it without taking a lot of damage.

The fight also proved that strengthening his weapons was essential.
If Gabriel was still the same crossbow he’d gotten in Kaer, he would’ve only had time to fire one shot before getting chased around by the monster.
There wouldn’t have been any time to reload or fire a second shot.
Simplify changed everything.
Roy didn’t have to reload the crossbow himself, since the crossbow would do it for him.
A second or third shot could mean the difference between life and death.

However, Gwyhyr was, in modern terms, the MVP in the fight.
It caused a lot of damage to the monster, weakening it for the final strike.
And finally, Burn ignited it from the inside out, delivering the final blow.
Of course, the monster was weaker than the actual ones, so that gave him an opening to kill it.
If Roy knew how to wield the sword more efficiently, the fight could have ended sooner and cleaner.

Killing the arachnomorph added one final monster type to the list.
After the trial, he would level up to a rookie witcher.
The only thing left for him to do was improve his crossbow skills.

Roy turned some pine trees into his targets and started training.
He trained his standing and kneeling shots, as well as the pace of his breathing.
Gabriel had undergone a lot of changes after the powerup.
There was barely any downtime between the shots.
The old training couldn’t keep up with the new fighting style, so Roy had to train profusely to improve his breathing.

***

Roy darted among the trees, his hair dancing in the wind.
The night breeze brushed across his face, taking droplets of sweat away with it.
Everywhere Roy went, a rain of crossbow bolts followed.
Every pine tree in the area would find itself embedded with a bolt.

Time flew by as Roy trained.
Before he knew it, it was already nine.
He couldn’t go back to the city since it was already curfew, so he bathed in the river before climbing up a tree to meditate the night away.