Castle that wishes to fly

14. Cruel Justice

The first rank dominated the lively training grounds, actively recruiting fresh members. As unity faded, the gaze of other ranks turned towards their fellow hunters in different squads. Chaos erupted among the hunters; one didn't need Cassia's abilities to sense the escalating tensions in the air. The serpent had grown scales at the expense of others.

***

The arrow cut through the air, finding its mark in a piece of leather. In rapid succession, the next projectile grazed the shaft of the first. Arrows buried themselves into the target one after another, each bearing the potential for death.

Avalon, the calm archery master, tirelessly released arrows, making the bowstring whistle.

A young, fair-haired girl scrutinized his every move. To allow her a better view of the required hand positions, the warrior intentionally slowed down. Smoothly, he drew the bowstring until the wood emitted a mournful creak.

The girl nodded, lifting the longbow. With her other hand, she retrieved an arrow from the quiver, grasping it with slender fingers. Her hands trembled, and her elbow tended to lower towards the ground. Struggling with the bowstring, it slipped, scratching the inflamed skin from diligent training.

Imber raised a clenched fist, signaling for the archers to stop. Avalon, familiar with the hunters' signals, reacted instantly. Unfortunately, Suri missed the signal, grappling with her own weapon. Imber cleared his throat, capturing her attention.

"Greetings, aer Maxat." His words unveiled the shadow. The title of captain wasn't bestowed upon Imber for nothing.

"Well-well, what do I see?" Maxat exclaimed, "Who would have thought that my tracker is so friendly with a third rank? If you've lost your way, let me remind you. Now, I'm your captain." His voice sounded calm; his movements didn't express aggression, but with this man, one could never be sure.

"It's my fault," Imber interceded for the young tracker. "I shouldn't have troubled your people."

Maxat smirked into Suri's eyes, then turned to Imber. "It's good that you admit it. So, how should we deal with it?"

In the condition Imber was in, he wouldn't survive the wrath of the blood mage. Even the slightest movement brought him unbearable pain, and Maxat couldn't be unaware of this.

"I thought mages aren't bothered by such trivial matters." Suri couldn't hold back. "I was curious about what your people are capable of. That's all."

Maxat's lips stretched into a sly smile, and his predatory gaze glinted with a mix of amusement and cunning. How effortlessly the prey fell into the trap.

"Then, I'm curious about what your people are capable of too," Maxat said. "Well, wait." He grasped his chin, tapping his lips with a finger. "You don't have any. What a shame." The colorless gaze pierced the young girl—an easy target.

"What do you want?" Suri refused to back down, well aware that the mage was provoking her.

"How can a captain turn a blind eye to his unworthy hunter boasting about his skills? I will punish scarface for my sister's unfortunate performance with the bow."

Imber and Avalon stood aside, seemingly impartial observers of the conversation between the mages, as if the discussion were not about them at all. Suri frowned, displeased with the turn the conversation was taking. Growing impatient with beating around the bush, Maxat exclaimed, "Just curious, how amazing are my sister's abilities if she's so inept with ranged weapons?" He waved his hand towards the pile of weapons stacked near Imber.

Suri felt as if she could hear Shug's persistent warnings, but it was her imagination. Even without his grumbling, Maxat's intentions were crystal clear, and she couldn't reveal the truth to him. She turned away, offering no clues to the man.