The Hunt (12)

Midnight. But the night was different from the previous nights. There was only one moon on the sky- one bright moon. The sky was not completely dark as before, but the reddish hue the 'full' moon radiated made it the eeriest night any of the students in the Fleeting Lands ever faced.

None of the students of the 'main camp' dared to go to bed as orders had yet to come. Inside the largest pavilion at the centre, sat five different youths around a round table.

"Where is Brad?" Asked a pink haired young woman. "We are already halfway through the Hunt. And he has yet to arrive."

"Nor do I know, nor do I care about that baldy" said the pale faced young man. "Maybe he was killed somewhere. The Confederation sent four level 4s after all."

"Tsk. I wandered for a whole week without any kills." A long haired youth slammed on the table. "I was fortunate enough to catch ahold of the heir of Ironcross House. But he somehow slipped away."