Before we moved, the employer stood in front of us and said in his strong voice:
"The hunting grounds are about two hours away from here, just beside this village. So the journey will be long—prepare yourselves well."
I thought to myself: But it won't be harder than the first journey...
But before I could finish that thought, his voice interrupted me:
"I've prepared armor and equipment for you. Head inside and start putting it on."
Armor?! Weapons?!
I looked around, trying to grasp what was happening. Each group stood in its own line, waiting their turn to enter the small tent set up for this purpose.
Some looked excited, smiling and chatting as if we were heading out for a picnic.
Others looked tense, avoiding eye contact as if a mere glance might reveal their inner trembling.
As for me? Honestly, I don't know how I felt. I was somewhere in between—or no, maybe in a third place entirely, unlike either of them.
---
When my turn came, I went in and put on the armor.
It was simple: made of lightweight metal plates covered with a thin layer of white leather, so pristine it looked unused. No ornate engravings or battle-ready designs—just straight lines and practical curves to protect the torso and limbs. From a distance, it looked more ceremonial than functional.
Despite its simplicity, it wasn't exactly comfortable—it was slightly heavy, especially on the shoulders, and made a faint metallic clinking sound with every step.
As for the weapon, it was a long spear with a shiny metal tip. It looked brand new, but its shaft was made of extremely light wood—more like a long broomstick. It felt unbalanced and unreliable, and this was my first time holding a spear at all.
---
A few minutes later, everyone had finished putting on their armor. No one was left.
The employer stood before us, looked over everyone, and said:
"Alright... let's go."
---
The path to the hunting grounds felt longer than expected—or maybe it was fear that made it seem so. We walked behind the large wagon, driven by one of the stronger workers, while the strange man walked along the side, rarely lifting his head, as if memorizing every step with just his eyes.
As for me... I tried not to look nervous. Inside, everything was screaming, "I want to go back!" But my face? I forced it to smile whenever someone looked my way.
I looked around and saw Knox walking steadily. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't afraid either—as if this scene was just a repeat for him.
Beside him, Luxian was talking loudly to one of the new guys, boasting about a past adventure that, "almost ended with a dragon's death!"—though I suspect the dragon was just a large cat in the dark.
Turning to another side, I saw the forty-something man in the dark blue cloak walking calmly as usual—silent, focused, like nothing around him was worth worrying about.
At first, I kept telling myself that this journey couldn't be harder than the first...
But with each step, that belief faded. After about an hour, fatigue began to seep into all of us, and the exhaustion became more visible on some faces.
Even Knox, who seemed composed at the start, was now breathing heavily and wiping his forehead. Luxian's smile slowly disappeared, replaced by a serious, weary expression. Even the man in the dark blue cloak seemed less calm, his eyes shifting more cautiously than before.
I felt the weight of the armor pressing harder on my shoulders. The weapon in my hand felt more like a burden than a tool. My steps lost their stability, and the clanging of the armor, once reassuring, now irritated me more than anything.
I began to take back what I said earlier—this journey wasn't easy at all. In fact, it might be much harder than my first one.
---
We passed through a patch of thick trees. The air here felt different. The forest's scent was overwhelming—but not comforting.
There was something in it… something that felt like a warning.
One of the workers spoke in a hushed tone:
"Is this the hunting ground?"
The strange man replied without turning:
"Yes, but we haven't reached the hotspot yet."
A few exchanged glances while my heartbeat picked up. Hotspot?
What does that mean? Are we really heading into a place crawling with monsters?
And am I truly part of this group?
The employer stepped up beside the strange man and said with a cautious tone:
"Don't stray too far from them. You're not here just to watch."
The man responded with a faint smile:
"I know… I'll be there if you need me."
And then... the hunting grounds started to come into view.
The trees here grew thicker, intertwined as if refusing to let sunlight in. The ground was uneven, covered with dead leaves, broken branches, and strange footprints that didn't look human. The atmosphere changed—humid and suffocating, with a heavy silence, like the entire forest was holding its breath.
In the distance, we saw scattered dark rocks, like little islands in a sea of green. On some of them, red patches appeared—maybe moss… or maybe something else.