In the forest.
Five hunters of the Phantom Tribe rushed toward the west, following the tracks they had assumed related to three weird beasts who had decided to work together.
Armani, who led the group, had his green hair swept by the gushing wind due to how fast they ran.
His nose occasionally twitched as the stench of blood thickened in the air.
"We are closing in. All of you get ready to fight and move silently," the green-haired man ordered.
Experienced, the four hunters nodded, tightened their grip around the spear, and ensured the bow on their back was ready if the situation called for it.
Soon enough, they stopped, hiding themselves behind trees.
In sight were three massive beasts: a giant insect with deadly scythe-like arms and six green legs, a bus-sized boar with thick black fur and enormous tusks, and a towering brown bear with razor-sharp claws. They were herding a group of monsters toward the north.
"What is happening? Where are they taking them?" One of the hunters asked the question that all of them wanted to know.
Armani placed his index finger on his lips and whispered. "Do not make too much sound. There are multiple groups of hunters in the surroundings. It appears we are not the only ones concerned about this situation."
The four hunters only noticed the other people when Armani pointed it out.
"There are at least five groups of hunters. Is it okay if we all stay here?" A young hunter queried.
The green-haired leader glanced left and right, scanning for the possibility of danger. "Do not worry. We are far away from the beasts, so even if they notice our presence, we have time to escape. Do not even think of the people; only those who have no brains will make their move in this kind of environment."
As time ticked by, the horde of monsters and three beasts slowly gained distance, leaving the groups of hunters to follow them carefully.
"Should we follow too?" The same young hunter questioned.
Armani nodded and advised. "We are going to keep our distance. Tread carefully and be wary of your surroundings."
With that, the five jumped out of the trees, running, hiding, and observing.
These activities were repeated several times before; finally, something bound to happen occurred.
One of the group of hunters began assaulting the others. They had 20 members, all wearing bloody loincloths and with their faces painted red.
They wield varied weapons: spear, stone hammer, stone dagger, and bow. Most of them laugh as they rip the heart out of their opponent, then deposit it in the bag on their waist. Due to their overwhelming number, nearly all groups had no chance of fighting them alone, as many only contained 5 to 7 hunters.
Even then, none helped those who had been attacked. Most groups had left; some stayed and observed, while those who were unfortunate got caught in the battle.
"Why are they attacking? Are they not afraid of the beasts?" One of the hunters, who was next to Armani, frowningly inquired.
"Wait, are they…" A hunter with mostly white hair pointed his wrinkly finger at the group of mad people, hesitating to finish his sentence.
His name was Ira, the oldest hunter of the Phantom tribe. Usually, a hunter of his age should have retired due to many reasons: accumulated injuries, a weakened body, illness, or the danger of old age. It was a miracle someone like him lived this long while being a hunter, where most people die in their prime.
With his vast experience, he should have been the one leading the group, but he declined the position for the reason that he knew he wasn't suitable, as his talent was average in every aspect. He believed that the tribe must be led by talented people to achieve greatness, a belief not many had.
Armani, who was mostly a calm person, did something he rarely did. He widened his always-closed eyes, revealing the cold emerald hiding within, and with it, a sharp tone followed. "Blood tribe."
Together, the four hunters thrust their spears into the dirt and equipped their bows, doing the same thing without uttering a word.
Their flawless synchronization spoke of years of fighting side by side, signifying their vast experience battling not just monsters but humans as well.
Nonetheless, their leader, who also seemed agitated by the sight of the Blood Tribe just a second ago, raised his left hand and said something they didn't expect.
"Stand down, we are not engaging." Armani's demeanor returned to its calm state, making a decision using his head, not his heart. "Our mission is to gather information related to the three beasts. Fighting here will not only prevent us from succeeding but also create a possibility of casualties. We cannot afford to lose a hunter before the beast hunt, so tame your emotions."
Even though they were unwilling, the four hunters decided to heed their leader's words and unequip their bows.
"What should we do, then?" Ira asked, his senses heightened to the max.
"The Blood Tribe has not made a move for the past 5 years," Armani answered while watching the massacre transpiring before them. "Their action right now means they are rising once again. We have to gather as much information as we can and deliver it to Head Hunter. There might be a war soon."
The faces of the four Phantom Tribe hunters stiffened, realizing the consequences in the future.
Armani's ears and nose moved, catching a rustling of leaves and a metallic scent of blood nearby.
Before his members could react and give their opinions, Armani rotated and then threw the spear from his left hand to the bush behind them.
Although baffled by their leader's sudden action, the four hunters grabbed their spears without an ounce of delay and pointed them in the direction in which Armani's spear flew.
Soon, multiple people jumped out, screaming as they charged at them.
"Blood tribe!" The young hunter screamed.
"Everyone, use the Phantom Steps and follow me. We are escaping!" the green-haired man shouted, then disappeared without a sound.
The Phantom Steps, from which the name of the Phantom Tribe was derived, was a powerful movement technique that enabled the user to boost their speed several times while concealing any sound, like a phantom. Of course, the technique had its drawbacks. It consumed a great amount of Spirit Energy and put a heavy strain on one's body; thus, continuously utilizing it would be almost impossible.
Because they knew hesitating in the middle of a fight could be a matter of life and death, the four immediately took action and went after their leader.
At the same time Armani's group left, the three beasts finally perceived the commotion and turned the already chaotic scene into a hellish destruction.
Trees uprooted, rocks shattered, screams reverberated, and harrowing roars echoed.
Fortunately, Armani had decided to escape to the south, the opposite direction of the trio; if not, they could have been in a lot of trouble, or worse, in direct contact with the killing machines.
The five Phantom Tribe hunters' speed was astonishing, yet the Blood Tribe people did not give up and stubbornly chased them.
"They are not stopping," the young hunter uttered. "Should we deal with them first?"
The green-haired man who was at the front replied without looking back. "Just keep running; they have at least seven people. Fighting them has no benefit. Nothing to gain, but so much to lose."
Whoosh
A faint tearing sound entered Armani's ears in the middle of their run. "Everyone, evade!"
Although the leader's warning was immediate, it was still a few seconds too late.
An arrow pierced the left leg of the young hunter.
The sudden interruption sent the young man rolling, halting their retreat.