Night of the Hunt... Only now does Lann truly understand this term.
...Night of the Hunt.
This is a massacre allowed by systems, by laws, by societal and religious morals!
In Yan’an, people need the Night of the Hunt!
Lann used the root of the Lady of the Lake’s Sword to deftly deflect a rusty saber aimed at stabbing him. Amidst the sparks from the metal clash, he positioned his blade horizontally and stepped forward.
His body, with the blade, directly sliced through the monster in front of him, severing its dense black fur and cutting into flesh and bone...
After this forward-striking step, only a tiny piece of skin at the back of the neck remained attached on the beastly transformed patient.
The patient with transformation not too advanced,
Lann habitually flicked his blade to the side, clearing the foul-smelling blood off its surface.
A fire disaster was unfolding all around.
A major characteristic of the patients with beast plague is the growth of dense, coarse fur, prompting one to instinctively want to use fire against them.
This strategy is indeed effective; the fur of beastly patients is highly flammable, and they do fear fire.
But there’s one problem...
Once the weakness of beastly patients becomes common knowledge, it’s difficult for the residents of this town not to stockpile things like fire oil and torches.
When even the basic sense of survival is precarious for humans, there’s no telling what they might do.
Some residents have already filled their homes with barrels of explosives, as if dying in a blast is more acceptable than dying to the claws of beastly patients.
Some carry gasoline bottles, vigilantly watching everyone as they walk down the street, seemingly ready to ignite and throw them.
These flammable dangers are as common as matches in Yan’an.
Thus, the Night of the Hunt always comes with explosions and fires.
Despite hunters striving diligently to preserve as many buildings as possible, using cold weapons far more than firearms.
But the residents’ stockpiles always manage to surprise them.
The source of this fire disaster was Lann’s Quen Rune.
Foreigners don’t understand Yan’an.
While clearing out some gatherings of beastly patients, foreigners instinctively thought of fire as a weapon due to the patients’ fur.
So, the fire circle spreading out from their handprints ignited some fuse unbeknownst to them.
When the contents of the gasoline bottle burst, the gasoline’s scent overcame the stench of blood and wafted into Lann’s nostrils.
With a "boom," a moderate fireball exploded in the room.
Gascogne and Henrik, experienced as they were, crouched instantly, lifting their cloaks used for blood protection over their faces.
After the initial fierce wave of heat, the room’s wooden structure ignited, and building materials burned into rolling black smoke.
Not only blinding eyes but also obscuring vision.
Thus, the three originally clearing monsters were forced to separate by Lann’s subconscious actions.
Amidst the dense smoke, beastly patients’ roars, weapons transforming with ’click-clank’ sounds, and metal slicing into bone sounds echoed...
"Gascogne! Henrik! Are you okay?"
Lann cast a Quen Rune to shield from heat and toxic smoke. He briskly dispatched four patients on his side and hurriedly inquired loudly.
Gascogne’s voice came from outside.
"We’re out already. Do you need help?"
"No need, I’m almost out." Lann replied, relieved.
He had worried that his carelessness might trouble these two hunters or even endanger their lives.
But now it seems their survival skills are far stronger than he imagined.
Mentos easily reconstructs the entire building’s layout from memory before the fire, ensuring Lann won’t get lost even if smoke blocks his vision.
Fanning the smoke as he stepped out, he saw the two hunters waiting at the door.
They seemed calm; the fire disaster appeared to be a routine matter for them.
As soon as Lann stepped out, he walked toward them with a serious expression.
"Sorry, Henrik, Gascogne. This was my mistake. I didn’t expect... Anyway, I’m very sorry."
The young man genuinely thought his error might have harmed others.
Yet Gascogne and Henrik seemed unconcerned, simultaneously removing their hats to fend off the black smoke in front of their noses.
"You didn’t expect someone to have placed a chain combustion bomb at home, just a spark away from exploding, right?"
Gascogne said indifferently.
"This is why, for foreigners wanting to become competent hunters, despite their skills, they need time to adapt. Because you don’t understand Yan’an."
Henrik, though his old voice was full of sarcasm, made no reproach toward Lann.
"Foreigners’ ignorance and reckless actions lead to tragic outcomes due to not understanding Yan’an... When this night passes, it’ll be another tale for Yan’an to laugh about."
Lann shrugged helplessly: "Yan’an locals actually like such stories? They’re truly frightening..."
Gascogne, who married a local, nodded first, feeling empathetic: "Who can say otherwise?"
The fire disaster was but a minor episode in the Night of the Hunt.
The purge must continue.
The closer to densely populated areas, namely the central district, the more chaos, bloodstains, and corpses speckled the streets. Google seaʀᴄh NoveI(F)ire.net
Among them were already mutated monsters, hunters in coats, and civilians frozen in moments of terror.
Monsters wouldn’t obediently roam the streets; they would want to charge into residents’ houses, dragging people out to rip their hearts and livers.
Hunters didn’t only fight monsters on the streets. They would judge residents’ clarity based on a warning light at their doors.
If beastly breathing noises came from inside, they would also break in, dragging beastly residents out to be slain or burned.
Due to Yan City’s narrow streets and complex terrain, hunters’ combat styles leaned toward solo or small teams.
Though Lann’s team encountered other hunters, they never saw teams larger than four.
Their three-person team could be considered remarkably noticeable.
On their way, a luxurious four-wheeled carriage overturned, its horses lying in front, their stomachs gutted, exposing skeletal ribs.
Two elegantly dressed corpses hung from the carriage windows, one large and one small—a woman and a little girl. The wooden splinters impaled them through.
Their blood had pooled into a large puddle on the ground.
Lann glanced at the carriage as he passed, noting the largest hole was smashed out from inside.
The solidly-built wooden carriage couldn’t withstand that force, nearly wrecking its front.
This power was at least two to three tons; judging by the size of the hole, its form was nearly three meters already.
Henrik also noticed the carriage overturned on the street, his narrowed eyes tightened.
"Such methods indicate severe beast plague transformation, but... how could someone drive with a patient transformed to this extent? Was it suicide?"
Henrik was the most experienced hunter among the three; Gascogne was half a local. After listening, he bowed his head, examining with methods unknown to Lann.
"Is this situation unusual?"
Lann cautiously asked, having realized how abnormal the city was after his unintentional arson, prompting increased caution.
Henrik now crouched before the carriage breach, examining closely.
"Transformation is a process, at least in my knowledge. Patients ..."
The old hunter gestured to demonstrate the breach size on the carriage.
"Before reaching this phase, they should have resembled the first monster you killed. Who would ride in the same carriage with such a patient? This is Yan’an; even the patients’ relatives know once transformed there’s no saving, unwarranted actions shouldn’t be made."