Mars, Lemi, and Sylvan

Sylvan's sharp eyes flicked around the table, taking in the familiar faces of his companions. To his left sat Lemi, her auburn hair unbound and cascading over her shoulders, a rare sight. She toyed with a bottle of Astadish wine, her fingers drumming against the glass, while picking absentmindedly at the roasted potatoes on her plate. On his right sat Mars, the infamous Red Hunter, tearing into a thick cut of venison with a mix of precision and ferocity. The flickering glow of the tavern's lanterns cast deep shadows across their faces, adding to the gravity of the conversation that hung in the air.

"You look happier than usual, Sylvan." Mars broke the silence, his gruff voice tinged with wry amusement. He leaned back in his chair, one hand gripping his tankard of ale. "Though knowing you, I doubt that smile of yours means good news."

Sylvan grunted, his expression souring. "Another few Venadicta found dead in the streets. The Snakesblood got to them first." His voice was low, like the growl of a wolf. "If you think that's enough to make me happy, Mars, you're sorely mistaken."

Before Mars could respond, Lemi cut in with a sly grin. "Don't let him fool you, Mars. Sylvan's brooding because I got the final shot on them. He'll never admit it, but it stings his pride."

Mars chuckled, running a hand over his bearded jaw. "The Horned Bavara bested by the Silent Death herself? That must've been quite the sight."

"And you would've lost to us both, Mars," Lemi teased, her sharp green eyes gleaming with mischief.

Mars smirked, raising his cup in mock surrender. "It takes me back. Reminds me of the first Venadicta we killed together."

Sylvan raised a hand, his index finger pointing toward the ceiling. "If I recall correctly, I was the one who killed it. I had to break through the guildhall's roof just to get to the damn thing."

"And we were the ones who paid for that roof," Mars countered.

Lemi leaned forward and gave Sylvan's shoulder a light push. "You were planning to set the whole place on fire, as I recall," she said, mimicking his old words with a faux smile, "'Better to burn it down than let the monster roam free.'"

Sylvan's hand absently brushed against the vials of resin strapped to his chest. The memory of that night lingered in his mind. It had been his first Venadicta kill after escaping Cordia. The creature had been sickly compared to the karnen beasts of the north, but no less dangerous to the humans it preyed upon. He still remembered the smell of ash and blood in the cramped bakery where it had cornered him.

"Better to overkill it than risk it getting loose," Sylvan muttered, his voice a low rumble.

Lemi took a swig from her wine bottle, laughing. "Yes, yes. That's why you earned the title of the Grey Hunter. Efficient. Brutal. And always just a bit excessive."

Sylvan smirked. "You're one to talk, Lemi. I hear what the other hunters call you—Beautiful Death, Silent Death. Shall I go on?"

Mars let out a loud snort. "And don't forget Blood-Soaked Hunter," he added with a grin. "That one's my favorite."

"I listen to the guild gossip," Sylvan said, leaning back in his chair. "You're not as mysterious as you think."

Mars's grin faded slightly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "We've grown old, haven't we? Three years protecting the people of Franzish, and now we only cross paths a few times a year. Makes me miss the old days."

Sylvan leaned forward, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "Enough reminiscing. Lemi and I have information, Mars."

Mars raised an eyebrow. "You, working with someone else? That's rare. The Grey Hunter doesn't usually share his kills."

Lemi interjected before Sylvan could respond. "We found a Tainted-blood."

Mars stiffened, his fork clinking against his plate as he set it down. "A Tainted-blood?" he repeated, his voice low and sharp. "Those parasites know how to hide. How in the hell did you find one?"

"Not just one," Lemi said, her voice rising slightly in excitement. "There was another in the belfry of a monastery. And we know where yet another is hiding—a noble estate. The d'Aragon manor, to be exact."

Mars let out a short, humorless laugh. "The d'Aragon manor? You two must've lost your minds. Hunters don't set foot in noble estates. That's an unspoken rule, one that no guild dares break."

"We know," Lemi said, brushing her hair back with a dramatic flourish. "That's why we're gathering the three most famous hunters in Franzish. This isn't just any Tainted-blood. If it's what we suspect, it could be part of Lucerian's Brood."

Mars's expression shifted, his interest piqued despite himself. "Lucerian's Brood," he muttered, as if testing the weight of the words. "If that's true, killing one would make us legends."

Sylvan, arms folded across his chest, spoke bluntly. "Join us or don't. I plan to kill it, with or without your help."

Mars leaned back, crossing his arms as a sly smile tugged at his lips. "There's the Grey Hunter I know and hate. Rushing in, blade drawn, no plan to speak of."

"We have a plan," Lemi cut in, her tone defensive. "The d'Aragon family is known for hosting extravagant balls. I can secure an invitation. Once inside, I'll let you both in through one of the side entrances."

Mars raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "That's your plan? Sneak in during a ball and hope the Tainted-blood doesn't notice three hunters skulking about?"

"It's better than your plan of sitting here and eating, isn't it?" Lemi shot back, though her tone remained playful. "Besides, I'm confident in my ability to blend in. My date certainly won't mind me slipping away."

Mars smirked. "Let's hope he knows how to dance, or you'll be leaving early regardless."

Sylvan, growing impatient, leaned forward. "Focus. The Tainted-blood won't stay in one place forever. This is our chance to deal a blow to the House of Blood."

Mars tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied Sylvan. "There's something you're not telling us. You're not doing this out of the goodness of your heart. You've never cared for fame or glory—just the resin from your kills. Why this Tainted-blood?"

Sylvan's jaw tightened, but he answered with careful precision. "I want information. Something only a Tainted-blood can provide."

Mars didn't press further, though the curiosity lingered in his expression. He turned his gaze to Lemi instead. "You're easier to read. Fame and titles—that's your game. You want to be the greatest hunter in Franzish, don't you?"

Lemi grinned, unbothered by the accusation. "You're not wrong. Killing a member of Lucerian's Brood would secure my name in every guild across the land."

Mars leaned back, exhaling slowly. "Well, I can't say no to that. The first Lucerian killed by three hunters—it does have a nice ring to it. But if we're doing this, we need to do it right."

Sylvan nodded. "We'll gather what we need and finalize the details tomorrow. The ball is in two days."

Mars smirked. "It'll be a long night, that's for sure. Sneaking into a noble's home, killing a Tainted-blood, and escaping unnoticed? It sounds insane."

"It'll be worth it," Lemi said, throwing her arms around both men. "We're going to be the most famous hunters in Franzish."

Mars chuckled darkly. "Or we'll be dead by sunrise."

Sylvan's gaze hardened as he stared into the flickering lantern light. "Either way, the Tainted-blood won't see another dawn. That much I promise."

As the three hunters finalized their plans, Sylvan couldn't help but think of Irina. Another sleepless night, another hunt—but it was all worth it, as long as she slept safely in the world he was fighting to protect.