Chapter 169: Mistaken

Ned awoke to humming. He opened his eyes, finding himself snuggled into the near-to luxurious bed in Lord Sven's manor. He'd fallen asleep in his clothing and seemed to forget how the hunter's cloth fitted to him tightly. Luckily, his black trouser stretched comfortably.

The humming was the wind forcing inside through the window. Was it raining? Ned thought, squinting. The window shade had been drawn—and he didn't remember doing that—and it was dark outside. Silver hair hangs loose across his eyes. It has been four months—nearly five—after he left O'rriadt, but his hair seemed to grow with haste.

ICE, did someone come in? Ned thought, talking to his system. 

[No.]

[But, I sensed vibration behind the door not more than ten minutes before you woke-up.]

ICE relied on Ned's senses to perceive the outside. As of now, the only way for her to sense when Ned was sleeping was through his hearing. She could also sense touch if someone poked Ned through his sleep, and give a signal to Ned if it's necessary or otherwise.

The time was before dawn, but the air felt humid: thick and overbearing. The smell of mint and lemongrass faded; the letter Sasani had written was folded inside Ned's hind pocket. The light from the ceiling wasn't enough to make the room lit bright. 

Ned left the bed, feeling submissive to recess. Forcing himself, Ned unbuttoned the black tunic, took the time on his trousers, and threw himself on the floor. With the slap of both his hands against the wooden floor, Ned did his morning routine. 

Thirty minutes was all he needed to finish push-ups, stretchings, and muscle-building moves. He breathes in deep after a full workout. Sweat ran his forehead down to his chin. Feeling energized, Ned took shower in the washroom that he almost didn't notice the first time he was in the room—exhausted he was. To his surprise, the manor was fixed with running water, the shower was fresh and clear. Water wasn't the problem, since Bogblot was a region sitting alongside a vast swamp. Through magic, maybe technology, the water from the land was redirected to the capital and distributed throughout the rest of the region. Perhaps, each city has its water system. It was the first time that Ned felt energized from a shower after he left Forgotten Pint.

Forgotten Pint, Ned thought. Locking the second to the last button and leaving one, having his tunic with an open chest—showing a white cloth underneath the tunic. Ned decided to leave Lord Sven's manor and proceed to his rented room back at the Forgotten Pint. 

Ned opened the door. Someone had left food beside the door, to his right was boots. Instead, Ned pulled the cart back to his room. Steam oozed around the edges of the silver tray. 

Suddenly ravenous, Ned sat down on the bed—he had fixed after his shower. Lifting the lid off the tray,  he finds a flatbread that had been baked with sweet paste in the center along with a dipping sauce. Beside the bread was a plate half-filled with meat cut to chewing sizes. Ned ate with a fork and knife. 

Felling satisfied and energized, Ned walked out of the room by leaving the cart, with an empty tray. He was ready. Unbeknownst to him, he smiled. Ned frowned, surprised by his reaction to the unknown. Or was it really unknown? For some reason, he was eager to meet someone. Outside his circle; he preferred to be alone.

Ned was met with light affixed along the edges of the walls. To his right were doors, it almost looked like a hotel but with weapons hanging on both sides of the wall. Leaving the floor, Ned climbed down the stairs only to be met by hunters walking toward the back of the manor. There were at least, fifty hunters marching to the end of the manor. These fifty hunters, which Ned assumed to be recruits, were led by prideful hunters. Five hunters led ten recruits, each. 

"You!" One of the hunters leading the recruits cried, his voice circled the circular manor. It wasn't even dawn, yet the manor felt like the military with shouting from both sides. Ned had just exited the last steps of the stairs when one of the lead hunters cried commanding. 

Ned saw the lead hunter pointing. He looked over his shoulders, making sure that the voice wasn't aimed at him—but, no. "He's talking to me, didn't he?" Alone, Ned said, and ICE responded. 

[It seemed so.]

Ned sighed. First Tand, the pretty boy, then this? Ned could only shake a head. 

"Yes," the lead hunter cried following his first bellow. "You, what do you think you're doing looking like an urchin at the stairs? You've got guts to leave and go up?"

The lead hunter guides nine recruits, not like the rest that have ten. All nine turned their gaze toward Ned and seemed thinking of the same idea. The recruits came in different races: some dark, tanned, pale, and extremely pale. But their scowl does not differ: ferocious. 

Ned frowned, what seemed to be the problem? Why do they looked at me like I'm a beast being hunted? Ned thought. He took a step back, putting one foot above the stair.

Like an orchestra, with the wave of their conductor, the recruit's eyes turned under as Ned took the step back—all at the same time. 

"You crack!" The lead hunter cried once more, he turned and trotted to Ned. He seemed to be from a faraway land, somewhere in the east or far-east with his voice spouting an 'sh' in the middle of his sentences. Ned heard him said  'You Shcrack'. 

Ned knew this since O'rriadt was temmed with different people from different places, and every time Ned went to sell his game, he met a lot of newcomers. One of which was from a land far east of the Cassan Continent, they were called Bantiswali (known for their loved to eat shells in every delicacy, it made their jaw stronger).

"Uhm," Ned said, surprised with the misunderstanding but remained blank with his face. "I came—"

"Recruit!" The lead hunter said, resting hands on his waist. "Shyou dare not to take a shtep backward!

"

"I said—"

"Ah!" Lead hunter said, raising a finger to stop Ned from talking back. "Shdo you know who is upstairs?"

Ned was silent, he doesn't know. A lot of room, and he doesn't care. 

"It shwas our Lady Sasani!" The lead hunter cried, shaking his head along with the finger. The rest of the recruit nodded, glaring with their mischievous eyes. "We hunter shprotect our Lady!"  He then tapped his chest, looked like a salute to Ned. 

"Hunter si—"

"No!" He cried, brows furrowed. 'shyou recruit do not call me hunter! I am bestowed shwith the power from manager Mond to train you! Call me Shmaster Horn! Now, shtag along and we will proceed to the fighting ground."

Fighting he said? Ned thought eyes seemed to gleamed silver. Waking up with a fresh body, Ned seemed to look for a quick in-fight to sweat a little further. His workout wasn't enough without running and some pulls. It was early—too early to leave to the manor, might be a good time to test how were the hunter spar with the rest. 

Without delay, Ned tagged along behind the recruits. Aside from Horn—obviously not his real name—the rest doesn't have an emblem of the House Tarragon. Which made Ned almost looking like them, since he doesn't have one as well. 

The glaring stopped after Ned tagged behind the group. 

Horn, the lead hunter from Bantiswali, threw a glare one last time at Ned and proceed to the front. Just like from Bantiswali, his eyes were deep brown, tanned skin, with wide shoulders. Dark hair cut-short showed his head almost perpendicular to his neck. Square face like that of a shovel, he might have dropped face-first from birth with his nose flat. 

Ned's group—no their group, was filed into two rows consist of five recruits each. Making Horn stand out in the middle with his hands coated with what looked like to be a brass knuckle. He wore a copper necklace and tucked inside his brown vest cut short without sleeves to show his broad chest and thick arms.

Ned followed along with the group after the first group vanished from the distance. Arriving at the edge of the manor, there stood a massive wooden gate. The gate faces West, and the manor blocked the rising sun—or should have, the sky was dark with a very thin streak of light.

The group was welcomed with a crowd of training hunters. In the middle was a sparring circle, made of stone and was slightly elevated to avoid water from flooding in. The training ground was wide, almost double the size of the manor itself. 

Around the edges of the training ground were wooden racks stashed with weapons of different sorts. 

Ned could feel the air with different intensity. A cry from his right ( hunters training in spears) and metal clanking from his left ( hunters doing mock battles with blades). The training ground was lit with torches standing in a wooden pole.

There were almost a hundred hunters and recruits doing their morning routine. Outside the elevated sparring circle, were another circles small enough to fit two people as they spar—it wasn't elevated like the big one. 

"Now!" Horn cried, turning to the recruits. Jaw thickened with muscles. "Shchoose your weapon!"