The forest thickened the deeper they went. Light trickled through the canopy in narrow beams, catching golden dust and flakes of pollen in the air.
Mark walked ahead, lazily swinging a dagger in one hand, while Ralt, taller, broad-shouldered, and quiet, strode beside Rudy. Billo followed behind Dune, tossing quiet jokes between themselves.
"So," Mark called out, voice sharp and slick, "you know what we're looking for, right?"
"It's about five meters tall," Ralt added, in a low, rumbling voice. "We kill it, we get three hundred golden Neba. Simple."
Rudy snorted. "Not that simple. You've got to be careful. The golden bull is already dangerous, but if you see the black one… run."
Dune looked up. "Black bull?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah, it's rare. Bigger. Meaner. Smarter too. People say it doesn't just trample you, it hunts you. Most hunters who saw it never made it back to say what happened."
Billo grinned. "So yeah… let's not find that one." They laughed, except for Dune, who stayed quiet.
"You alright, Outie?" Mark asked, glancing at him with a crooked grin. "You look pale. This your first time hunting?"
Ralt chimed in from the side. "Yeah, where'd you even come from, anyway?"
Dune spoke evenly. "I used to live in Fein."
The laughter stilled a little.
"…Oh," Mark said, a bit awkward now. "Fein's … gone, right?"
Dune nodded once. "Destroyed. That's why I'm heading to Rendely."
There was a long pause before Mark laughed. "Damn. That's rough. Guess you're more used to running than fighting, huh?"
Rudy snorted. "Hey, don't underestimate him. Anyone who walks with Cadogan ain't just some stroller."
Billo leaned in again. "Still, you're all bones, man. You sure you're not gonna break your ankles out here?"
Dune just smiled faintly. They keep talking. But I wonder how they'd react if they knew the kind of things I've seen. The kind of monsters I've faced. The trials I've survived. Probably wouldn't joke so loud then.
He didn't respond. Let them think what they want. He had nothing to prove.
They walked for a while longer, navigating thick roots and muddy slopes until Rudy held up a hand.
"Wait. Quiet."
The group stopped. The sound of heavy breathing, like deep, slow wind, echoed from the trees ahead. They crept up a small ridge, hiding behind thick bushes and low-hanging branches. When they peeked over, they saw it.
The golden bull.
It stood tall in the clearing, easily over five meters. Its golden fur shimmered under the sunlight like it had been dipped in fire. Each breath it took kicked up dust and grass, and when it moved, the ground shook slightly beneath its hooves.
Its horns curved outward like blades, tipped with black steel-like points. There were scars along its body, and its red eyes glinted with awareness.
"There it is…" Rudy whispered. "Heavy Golden Bull."
Billo's hand twitched over his bow. "We going now?"
"Wait," Rudy said. "Let it move. Let it turn its back."
They crouched lower. The air felt heavy now. Every breath needed to be quiet. Every motion, still. The hunt had begun.
As the group crouched behind the underbrush, eyes fixed on the massive golden bull grazing in the clearing ahead, Rudy leaned in, his voice a hushed whisper.
"Listen up," he began, scanning the faces of his companions. "The golden bull's primary attack is its charge. It'll dash with incredible speed, but if you're quick, it's not too hard to dodge. What we need is to be cautious of its Neba abilities. Depending on its mastery, some of these beasts can even shoot Neba blasts from their horns."
Mark smirked, gripping his weapon tighter. "So, we just have to be faster than a five-meter-tall bull with potential energy blasts? Sounds easy enough."
Ralt chuckled softly. "Piece of cake."
Rudy's eyes narrowed, a grin spreading across his face. "Alright then. Winner takes all."
Before Dune could react, the four hunters sprang from their hiding spots, weapons drawn, charging toward the unsuspecting bull.
Rudy led the assault, his body undergoing a rapid transformation mid-stride. Muscles bulged, his form expanding as tawny fur sprouted across his skin. His face elongated into a feline snout, sharp teeth bared in a predatory snarl. Clawed hands flexed, and a powerful tail lashed behind him. In moments, he had become a lion-like beast, embodying raw strength and agility.
With a deafening roar, Rudy closed the distance, launching himself at the golden bull.
The two collided with a resounding crash, the force of impact sending shockwaves through the ground. Rudy's claws dug into the bull's shimmering hide as he used his momentum to pivot and hurl the massive creature into a nearby tree. The trunk splintered upon impact, leaves and branches raining down around them.
Mark, Ralt, and Billo wasted no time, circling the bull as it struggled to its feet. Mark darted in first, slashing at its flank with a curved blade. The bull bellowed in pain, kicking out with its powerful hind legs. Mark narrowly avoided the strike, rolling to safety with a laugh.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, eyes gleaming with adrenaline.
Ralt approached from the opposite side, wielding a heavy hammer. He swung it in a wide arc, aiming for the bull's shoulder. The beast twisted, the hammer glancing off its muscular frame. Ralt grunted, adjusting his grip. "Tough hide," he muttered.
Billo, nimble and quick, danced around the bull's front, aiming precise strikes at its legs, attempting to hamper its movements. The bull snorted, lowering its head, eyes flashing with a golden light.
"Watch out!" Rudy's voice, though deeper and more guttural in his transformed state, rang out in warning.
A concentrated beam of Neba energy shot from the bull's horns, narrowly missing Billo as he leaped aside. The blast struck the ground, leaving a smoldering crater.
Dune remained at the edge of the clearing, observing the chaotic battle unfold. His expression was unreadable, eyes tracking every movement, every attack and counter.
He noted how the hunters, despite their bravado, worked in tandem, exploiting openings and covering for one another. Yet, their competitiveness was evident. They jostled and jeered, each eager to land the finishing blow.
Mark lunged again, aiming for the bull's neck. Rudy, still locked in combat with the beast, growled. "Back off, Mark! It's mine."
"In your dreams," Mark shot back, slicing at the bull's face. The beast reared, forcing both men to retreat momentarily.
Ralt took the opportunity to swing his hammer at the bull's exposed side. "Maybe if you two stopped flirting, we'd get this done faster," he quipped.
Billo laughed, nocking an arrow infused with his own Neba. He released it, the projectile embedding itself into the bull's shoulder, causing another pained bellow.
The golden bull, though wounded, was far from defeated. It pawed the ground, nostrils flaring, before charging at Ralt.
The hunter stood his ground until the last moment, then sidestepped, bringing his hammer down onto the bull's back as it passed. The force drove the beast into the dirt, but it quickly scrambled up, eyes now glowing with a fierce light.
"Enough playing," Rudy snarled, flexing his claws. He lunged, wrapping his powerful arms around the bull's neck, attempting to wrestle it to the ground. The bull bucked and thrashed, but Rudy's grip was unyielding.
Mark seized the moment, climbing onto the bull's back. "Hold it steady!" he shouted, raising his blade.
Ralt and Billo moved in tandem, each targeting the bull's legs, aiming to bring the massive creature down. The clearing echoed with the sounds of battle, grunts, shouts, the clash of weapons against hide, and the bull's enraged bellows.
From the position on the high ground, Dune kept observing.
The fight below was intense but messy. Rudy, Mark, and Doom weren't fighting together—they were competing, shouting at each other, blocking one another's strikes. It was more of a game than a serious battle.
"Back off! That's my kill!" Mark yelled as he sent a weak Neba strike toward the bull.
"You wish, loser!" Ralt barked, swinging now, his axe wide and missing by a mile.
Rudy was different though. His sharp eyes tracked the bull with intent. The moment it tried to charge again, his form shifted, his skin darkened, his nails became claws, and his face took on beastly features.
With a roar, Rudy launched forward, his bestial figure crashing into the bull mid-charge again. The golden creature's hooves scraped the earth as it slid back, slammed into a tree with a thunderous crack. Rudy didn't even flinch.
The bull groaned in pain, struggling to get up, blood trailing from one horn. It was wounded, its legs shaky, breaths heavy. Rudy wiped a smear of blood from his mouth and grinned.
"This is it!" he shouted. "Whoever lands the final blow gets the whole pot! Three hundred golden Neba!"
Mark and Ralt both dashed forward at the same time, weapons ready.
Dune exhaled, still standing above them, watching the chaos. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. They were all distracted. So desperate to win. So careless.
He stepped forward.
Then vanished.
A surge of green light burst from the ledge above. In a flash, Dune's Nebastep launched him into the fray, and with a second pulse of Nebastep force, he pushed out a wide wave of Neba.
"Wha—?!" Rudy's eyes widened as the wave slammed into him.
"Hey!" Mark and Ralt were both flung aside like sacks of wheat, crashing into the bushes and rolling across the ground.
The golden bull, dazed and swaying, looked up just in time to see Dune standing right in front of it, calm, still, focused.
Dune's sword was already in motion.
A clean arc. One smooth strike.
The blade sliced through the bull's neck, cutting clean. Blood sprayed into the air as the creature let out one final grunt, and fell to the ground with a loud thud.
Dune stood there, sword glinting in the sunlight, body calm, breath steady. He looked down at the lifeless beast. The hunt was over.
Behind him, groans and curses echoed from the others as they staggered back up to their feet.
"You bastard…" Mark muttered.
"No way…" Ralt rubbed his shoulder. "He actually took it…"
Rudy walked forward slowly, brushing leaves from his hair, lion-like features fading back into human form. His expression was unreadable for a moment.
Then he let out a dry chuckle.
"Well played, Dune," he said. "Guess you're not just some soft outsider after all."
Dune sheathed his sword. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
The golden bull lay dead at his feet, and three hundred gold was now his.