Chapter 34: Chapter 34 — The Festival of the Hunt Part V
A few minutes later, I made my way to the gathering area where the other participants were already assembled. I had signed the registration documents the previous day, so there were no bureaucratic obstacles to worry about. Just the hunt itself.
The atmosphere was tense but charged with excitement. Around me, men of all shapes and sizes were checking their equipment, sharpening their blades, stretching their muscles.
Some were young and eager, their eyes burning with the fire of those who had something to prove. Others were older, seasoned, their scarred faces betraying years of experience in these very forests. I could feel the competitive energy crackling in the air like static electricity before a storm.
A wooden podium had been erected at the edge of the gathering area, draped with the crimson and gold banners of the festival. Atop it stood a woman with steel-gray hair tied back in a severe bun, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd with the precision of a hawk sizing up its prey.
She wore practical leather armor over a dark tunic, and her posture radiated authority.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the true beginning of the hunting festival!" she announced, her voice carrying across the square with practiced ease.
She pressed a hand to her chest, over her heart. "These brave men will hunt the strongest monsters of the mountain range to prove their love to their beloveds. There is nothing more romantic and passionate than risking your life for the one you cherish."
She paused, letting the words hang in the air. A few of the younger participants puffed out their chests with pride. I simply kept my expression neutral and waited.
"But before we begin..." The gray-haired woman gestured toward the side of the podium. "The village chief will say a few words."
My eyes followed her gesture, and I felt my eyebrows rise in recognition.
An elderly woman with snow-white hair was ascending the podium steps, supported by one of the village guards. She wore robes that were a fascinating blend of a traditional kimono and medieval formal wear—silk fabric embroidered with hunting motifs, dragons and stags intertwined in golden thread. Her movements were slow, measured, but her back was straight and her eyes sharp.
It was her. Kirishima Mara. The old woman from the statue.
"So she’s the village chief," I murmured to myself, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "That means the Kirishima family has probably governed this town for generations. Direct descendants of the legendary hero."
The gray-haired woman helped Mrs. Kirishima into position at the center of the podium. The village chief took a moment to steady herself, gripping her gnarled wooden cane with both hands. Then she drew a deep, enormous breath that seemed to expand her entire frail frame—and she spoke.
"LISTEN WELL, BRAVE MEN!"
Her voice exploded across the square with a force that shouldn’t have been possible for someone her age. It was the voice of a woman who had addressed crowds for decades, who had led her people through hardship and celebration alike.
"You who will hunt the strongest prey of this mountain range, take heed! This village does not tolerate cowards, nor does it suffer those who resort to tricks and deceit!" She raised her cane and slammed it against the podium with a thunderous crack that echoed off the surrounding buildings. "Only those who are truly prepared to risk their lives in this hunt will be rewarded with eternal love! Those who are not... will perish in the misery of their own greed!"
TOC!
The cane struck the wood again, and this time the sound seemed to reverberate straight through my chest.
"Wow," I murmured, a grin spreading across my face. "For someone her age, she’s still got a hell of a lot of energy."
The gray-haired woman—Pineda, I would soon learn—took the podium again. "Alright, friends. You heard Mrs. Kirishima. Give it your best."
---
After the speech, we were ushered into a designated area where the organizers distributed sheets of paper detailing the monsters we could hunt, complete with descriptions and rank classifications. Speaking of ranks...
"Listen up," the gray-haired woman said, holding up one of the sheets for everyone to see. The paper was covered in meticulous drawings of various creatures, each accompanied by dense blocks of text. "Every monster is divided into several ranks."
She began pointing at the illustrations as she listed them off.
"Animal."
"Bestial."
"Predator."
"Supreme Being."
"Divine."
"Transcended."
She let the last three hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "There are no monsters of those final three ranks in this area. However, if by some cosmic misfortune you do happen to stumble upon one, divert your route immediately and hunt a Predator instead." Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "If you’re smart enough, you’ll know that fighting one of those three is suicide. If you’re not smart enough... well, the forest will have fresh bones to decorate its floor."
Several of the participants audibly swallowed. I couldn’t blame them. The way she said it, with that cold, matter-of-fact certainty, was enough to chill the blood of even the most experienced hunter.
"Choose wisely, and you’ll be fine. Choose with arrogance..." She let the sentence trail off, but her meaning was unmistakable. "And you’ll be dead before the festival ends."
I raised my hand.
"Excuse me," I said, my voice cutting through the tense silence.
The woman’s sharp eyes locked onto me immediately. Her frown deepened, and the expression on her face could have curdled milk.
"What?"
"Is the use of summons permitted?" I asked, keeping my tone as respectful as possible. "Summons that assist the adventurer in hunting the monsters?"
Her frown somehow managed to deepen even further. If looks could kill, I would have been a smoldering crater on the ground. The other participants edged slightly away from me, as if fearing they might get caught in the blast radius.
"It is strictly forbidden," she said, her voice dropping to something cold and razor-sharp. "Any idiot who dares to summon spirits to fight on their behalf will be disqualified immediately. And believe me..." She leaned forward, her gray eyes boring into mine. "You do not want to find out what happens to cheaters in this festival."
I’ll admit it. I felt a genuine flicker of fear. Something in the way she spoke, the absolute authority behind those words, made it very clear that this was not a woman to be trifled with.
"And weapons?" I asked, my voice coming out a bit more timidly than I would have liked.
To my surprise, her expression relaxed. Not by much—she still looked like she could bite through iron—but the murderous edge faded from her eyes.
"Well, if it’s weapons, that’s permitted," she said, straightening up. "The important thing is that you hunt the creatures with your own hands. Your own strength. Your own skill. That’s what the festival is about."
"Okay. That sounds a lot more reasonable." I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. If weapons were allowed, I could still rely on my equipment and my gacha-enhanced stats. I didn’t need the orcs to fight for me—I just needed the tools to fight well.
"Thank you very much... miss?" I paused, leaving the question hanging.
For the first time, something that almost resembled a smile flickered across her face.
"Yamila," she said. "Yamila Pineda."
"Alright. Thank you very much, Miss Pineda," I replied, straightening my shoulders and injecting my voice with a more masculine, confident tone.
She actually smiled. A real one, this time.
Then she turned to face the assembled participants, raised her arm high above her head, and dropped it like a executioner’s axe.
"Tururú!"
The trumpets blared. The drums thundered. The sound was primal, ancient, awakening something deep in the blood.
"LET THE HUNT BEGIN!" Yamila Pineda roared at the top of her lungs.
And just like that, every participant burst into motion. Feet pounded against the earth. Weapons were drawn. The air filled with battle cries, war shouts, and the thunder of human determination.
I ran with them, my heart hammering in my chest, my hand already reaching for the sword at my hip. The forest stretched before us—dark, vast, and full of teeth.
Somewhere in those shadows, a monster was waiting.
And I was going to find it.
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