Calli and the others noticed Aio keeled over on the ground. Torches lit around them as shamans began their prayers, she swore she heard undercurrents of a deep voice somewhere in the distance. Looking up, and seeing on the faces of shamans and other figures muttering prayers above Aio’s body, she reached out to one of the shamans, who let out a slight gasp.

  “Why isn’t he waking up?” she asked.

  “He is communing with the great one, hunting for a truth that none other are worthy to witness.”

  “And why,” she began, voice raised, “was he chosen for this? Is this not the signs of Madness?”

  The shaman, face composed now, looked to Aio on the floor, a slight smile cracking on his face.

  “Madness? No…I find it strange this thing you surface dwellers call madness. It is merely communication with the deities of the land, and not all of us are worthy of their voice. You seek to label that which you don’t understand, and label your unworthiness as a fault of the mind.”

  The shaman, being held tightly by the scruff of her neck by Calli, pointed at Aio on the ground, “That child was chosen, because he is a descendant of those who binded the pact with the deities of this land long ago. What could you possibly understand about how-”

  Calli pushed the shaman back into the crowd, causing others to lose their balance, “Blood of the hunters, he’s gone through enough already at this point. You’re going to get him out of that state of his and-”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Just then, a nearby rumble shook the walls above them. Looking up the ceiling wall above their building heights, the crowd moved out of the way as rock and debris crashed down on the ground. A deep guttural sound could be heard emanating from the opening which was created in the ceiling and a glint of pure red could be seen from the other side.

  Gravel and List, who stood to the side watching all of this unfold began to unsheathe their weapons. List pulled out a strange blade and inserted a small red orb into the side of the blade. Activating the Johrei, the blade began to glow lightly, a loud thrum vibrating the hilt.

  Gravel pulled out his own blade, which was a simple Johrei blade shaped in the design of a machete. It had a sharp edge, and his height gave him the advantage in most scenarios as he had greater reach than most other hunters and a wider field of view. In Enthipid hunts, this let him hold his own against most Standard-Grades on his own, which relied on numbers, size, and power to overcome their enemies.

  Waiting in anticipation, Calli joined the other two, pulling her gatling gun out of her pocket space, waiting for what was about to come out from the ceiling.

  After what felt like an eternity, the walls of the ceiling shattered, stalactites falling and breaking apart parts of the bridges and home above them. She could hear screams as a few of the village residents were critically injured by the initial fallout. Panicking, the shamans and other figures around her began to scatter, finding shelter wherever they could .

  Gravel, extending his Johrei blade, sliced a stalactite cleanly in two before it hit the group and saw something moving in the ceiling’s gap. With metallic skin as dark as the ceiling walls, compounded red eyes, and maws which resembled giant curved horns of a sort, he recognized these creatures as a subterranean Enthipids horde.

  “Oh boy,” Gravel said, “What rotten luck.”