"This is the third one this week," said a figure, clad in the imposing armor—black steel polished, engraved with silver patterns.
A green cape fluttered behind him, and a lion-shaped crest gleamed proudly on his chest plate.
Yes, they were none other than the Elite Knights of the capital.
"Whatever is corrupting them, it's spreading quickly," he added, unsheathing his sword.
"Hn," the other knight nodded, younger than the first one.
"And judging from the footsteps, only a single person fought it—and managed to injure it to that degree. Impressive," he added, scanning his surroundings.
"Must be a high-ranking hunter," the first knight said, crouching beside the dead beast, slashing his dagger into its chest with practiced ease, letting dark, viscous blood ooze from the wound as he searched for something.
Soon, he pulled out a dark crystalline core, oozing with miasma and pulsing heavily.
