Chapter 24: The Half-Elf and the Hunter’s Predicament

As Agnes in the lake cast her gaze, Votila immediately held his breath.

A powerful sense of crisis surged within him.

This girl was no human at all. Votila hadn’t noticed this before—was it due to the lethargy that came with transforming into a cat?

Long ears, purple eyes, silver hair… was this girl an elf? Why would an elf appear in a human kingdom?

According to Votila’s memories, humans and elves had been locked in warfare for over a century. A deep-seated animosity seemed to exist between the two races.

Votila’s brow furrowed. He realized the situation was far more complex than it appeared.

‘Could the recent demonic wolves, and that alchemical golem, all be part of an elven conspiracy?’ he mused. ‘No, that couldn’t be right. Elves rarely seemed to have alchemists among their ranks.’

Moreover, while Agnes’s ears were also pointed, they appeared somewhat shorter compared to the elves Votila remembered. Furthermore, Votila had never encountered an elf with such a flat chest.

Agnes was likely a descendant of a union between an elf and a human—a mixed-blood half-elf. Humans, it seemed, preferred to call them witches.

“Who… who’s there?!” The witch in the lake raised her hand, her eyes filled with caution.

As her five fingers subtly moved, tendrils of magic stirred the air, coalescing into a spherical cyclone of wind blades in her palm. The swirling breeze rippled across the lake’s surface.

‘What kind of magic is this?’ Votila wondered. ‘Is it unique to witches? Why did I not see the preliminary incantations for its activation? And I heard no chanting spell to cast it.’

Just as Votila hesitated, wondering whether to retreat, the witch in the lake lifted her hand. The spherical cyclone in her palm rapidly expanded, poised to be hurled directly at Votila.

‘Huh? Why is it unfolding like this?! No! I must dispel her hostility first. I’m just a cat!’

With that thought, Votila trotted out from the tall grass with a wobbly, cat-like gait.

“Meow! Meow!”

Squatting where Agnes could clearly see him, the black cat wiped his face with a paw, then stared at Agnes with wide, watery eyes, meowing plaintively.

“…” Agnes stared expressionlessly at the small cat emerging from the grass, conversing with someone unseen. “…It’s nothing… Father, just a wild cat in heat.”

‘A wild cat in heat?! What in the world?! I was merely trying to show that I posed no threat!’ Votila was so infuriated he almost leaped from the ground.

“Mm… alright, that’s fine, Father.”

As Agnes murmured to herself, the cyclone in her hand was hurled toward Votila without any warning.

‘Hey, hey, is this really necessary?! I’m just passing by! Why won’t you even spare a poor, innocent cat just passing through?’

Sensing the imminent danger, Votila turned and fled.

The distance between Agnes and Votila was barely ten meters. The cyclone Agnes threw arrived in an instant, detonating the moment it passed behind Votila.

Concentric rings of air pressure radiated outwards, unleashing countless wind blades that shredded the surrounding trees.

Votila was blown away by the swirling gale, as several wind blades sliced deep furrows into the ground right beside the black cat’s body.

Votila steadied himself, a chill of dread running through him. Where he had stood moments before, there was now a crater several meters in diameter, and entire swathes of the surrounding forest had been leveled—all due to Agnes’s magic.

‘Didn’t they say Agnes, despite being an official Archmage, had little combat prowess?! What kind of destructive power is this? If I hadn’t been quick, I’d be shredded cat meat by now.’

‘This is no place to linger. I need to run first. Staying any longer will truly get me diced.’ He decided. ‘I should hurry and find the Aetherblood Grass.’ With that thought, Votila turned and darted deeper into the forest.

Agnes in the lake did not make another move. Watching the black cat vanish in a flash, her brow arched. “I initially thought it was a golem, but it turned out to be just a wild cat. Hmm… am I being overly sensitive? A black cat… how ominous.”

The light was too dim, preventing Agnes from recognizing the black cat as Votila.

***

Several minutes later, Votila lay panting beneath a tree.

‘That was dangerous. I’ve run for so long; they shouldn’t have caught up, right?’ He wondered. ‘What exactly is that half-elf’s background? What is she planning, hiding her identity in this town?’

Votila felt as though he had stumbled upon something quite unsettling.

‘Forget it, this isn’t the time to dwell on that. I need to continue searching for the ingredients.’

Looking up at the night sky, the bright moon hung high, and stars twinkled. It was nearly midnight, the time when Aetherblood Grass would bloom, emitting a peculiar scent—one reminiscent of blood, yet not truly bloody.

This unique aroma was how the Aetherblood Grass earned its name. Only magical beasts with exceptionally keen senses of smell, such as canine magical beasts, could detect it.

Therefore, finding it before it bloomed was ideal. Once in bloom, the scent of Aetherblood Grass could easily attract carnivorous magical beasts.

That being said, Votila could already smell the Aetherblood Grass.

On a nearby cliff, a few translucent blades of grass swayed in the wind. Several blood-red flowers bloomed on their leaves.

Were it not for those small flowers, Aetherblood Grass bore little difference in appearance from ordinary grass.

Although the grass had already bloomed, Votila had no complaints about finding it so quickly.

Stepping forward, Votila opened his mouth and bit down on the root, pulling the small plant free. As a young black cat, he couldn’t carry much. Fortunately, one stalk of Aetherblood Grass was enough for the potion he needed.

Having successfully obtained the herb, Votila’s next task was to swiftly return before the Aetherblood Grass attracted any magical beasts.

Alas, fate had other plans. As Votila reached the foot of the cliff, he was forced to halt.

Two red-eyed wolves roamed the forest directly ahead.

‘What a jackpot,’ he thought. ‘While I knew encountering magical beasts was possible, this is happening far too soon.’ For now, he decided to circle around them.

Holding the herb in his mouth, Votila changed direction, cautiously scampering to the side.

Swish, swish, swish! The branches in the forest rustled, and a ferocious wolf, baring its fangs and drooling, appeared in Votila’s line of sight, blocking his path.

The wolf stared at Votila, slowly closing in. Votila noticed a deep wound on the wolf’s front paw, which made its steps appear somewhat unsteady. Perhaps it was due to this injury that the wolf didn’t immediately attack upon seeing Votila.

Votila also eyed the wolf warily, but then the sound of rustling grass behind him reached his ears—it was the two wolves from earlier.

Votila was surrounded. The three wolves had formed a triangular formation, trapping him.

‘Is this really necessary? I’m just a little cat passing by to gather herbs! Are they expecting me to fight three against one?’

Votila, still gripping the Aetherblood Grass, crouched slightly, his tender claws already buried deep in the soil.

The three wolves, without any apparent communication, advanced on the black cat in perfect sync.

One wolf directly in front, two behind. If he timed it right, fending them off wasn’t impossible.

Suddenly, the three wolves lunged at the black cat without warning.

Theoretically, in a situation where physical abilities are roughly equal, a one-versus-three fight is absolutely impossible.

However, Votila had no intention of fighting all three at once. If his speed was great enough, he could counter-attack the instant an enemy struck.

The wolf in front had already pounced, and he heard the thud of wolf paws behind him. Votila’s golden eyes gleamed with brilliant light, his Golden Eyes taking in every movement of the wolf before him.

No matter how synchronized the three wolves’ movements were, or how skilled their coordination, their attacks could never be perfectly simultaneous.

As long as there was a slight delay in their actions, as long as his reaction speed was fast enough, and as long as he could predict their attack patterns, then it wouldn’t be three against one, but a series of instantaneous one-on-one encounters!

The first wolf, directly in front, had an injured front leg but was the closest and the first to charge. Therefore, it would undoubtedly be the first to attack.