Chapter 475 Tracking The Harken



This time, Maverick seemed interested in the conversation as his expression hardened. Going off of Sirius' tone, it didn't seem like the person he encountered was one remembered fondly.

"Honestly, they weren't exactly human. Looked like an elf to me, but they acted like a beast," Sirius explained, recalling his earlier encounter, "They were dead set on killing me, and honestly, their skill wasn't anything to scoff at. Still, I won without a scratch."

"An elf? Never thought them the type to be so violent," Everett remarked as he leaned forward.

Emilio jabbed his elbow into his aloof friend's arm, "Maverick already told us about this earlier. Sirius is talking about a Harken, right?"

The question pointed towards the bearded survivor of the island was met with a nod from Maverick, "Yup, no doubt about it. Elf and incredibly violent are just about the two descriptors I'd assign to the Harken. Gotta say, though, Sirius, right? You're somethin' else. Wiping out that roliath in one blow was one thing, but taking out a Harken hunter like that? Color me impressed."

"Oh, they're big shots? Couldn't really tell myself," Sirius responded, surprised at the man's words as he casually laughed them off.

That lackadaisical nature spawned from one born with unparalleled talent was something that quickly got under the skin of any around the Stormheart.

Maverick mumbled, sitting near Emilio and Everett, "...This guy kind of pisses me off. I've almost died more times than I can count getting away from roliath and the Harken."

"Yeah, that's just how he is. I'd call it arrogance, but it's not like Sirius can't back it up," Emilio whispered.

After they regrouped with one another and filled their stomachs on the cooked, tough meat of the slain roliath, there was no time wasted in moving on to their next goal: reuniting with the half-elf archmage.

"Finding a single person on an island this big is going to be a real pain in the ass," Everett remarked, stomping through the dense foliage of the tree-covered region.

"Want some cheese with that whine?" Sirius jokingly said while following behind the shielder.

"Oh, man. Can't say I didn't see that comin'," Everett said as he scratched his head.

"What?!" Maverick reacted to the words from the Dragonheart as if witnessing something traumatic, "Do you have any idea what you're saying?!"

Emilio came to a stop, turning around as he looked at the bearded figure, "Yeah, I just said it. The Harken pose a threat to us as long as we're on this island. Until we find Celly, as long as we wipe the Harken out, that'll keep them away from her."

"I understand your reasoning, but this is the Harken we're talking about: soulless killers who live for the sole purpose of hunting!" Maverick explained as he moved his hands around.

Nothing said as caution seemed to have any effect on the resolve of the Dragonheart, who only furrowed his eyebrows before drawing his sword from his sheath. Flipping his blade around, he ran his fingertips across the steel.

"Maverick, I appreciate what you've done so far to guide us. You don't need to follow along any further, though. I understand the sort of danger that comes with challenging the Harken–I'm not undermining what you told me," Emilio said calmly.

Everett added on, standing his shield atop the soil as he breathed out, "Yeah, 'preciate the help so far, but we can handle ourselves from here. Em' and I always get it down–Sirius, too, I guess."

The bearded figure looked hesitant, looking down at the flourishing blades of grass that were birthed from the flesh of the forest. Behind the eccentricities of the lonesome survivor, memories laid deep in his mind, perhaps better left untouched.

"I know that all of you are capable enough. I guess this is where we go our separate ways, then," Maverick said, talking quietly as he looked towards the others.

"Thanks, Maverick," Emilio thanked the man, extending his hand towards him.

There was a tired look in the bearded man's eyes as he saw the Dragonheart's gesture, one that solidified the parting of two parties. Still, he accepted it with a firm grasp.

"Don't die, brats," Maverick said.

Parting ways, the lonesome man couldn't help but look back after a few dozen paces, watching the figures become more and more distant before disappearing past the foliage.

The warm gaze of dawn faded as the forest was passed through with a fair amount of trouble. Only irate beasts acted as trouble, but were handily cleared by the men as they went onward.