A Gorgeous White

Chapter 48: The Illusionist's Cave (2 )

Moulin was leisurely walking down the uneven ground of the forest. It smelled of fresh rain and grass. He closed his eyes. Feeling the chilly air caressing his cheeks like the sweet touch of a lover. However, he didn't have the time to relish it when his steps unexpectedly stopped.

The silent rustle of leaves and the eerie atmosphere enveloped him.

Snap!

With swift movements, he positioned the bow in front of him and pulled the string while minding the direction of the surrounding air. The ice arrow materializing.

It's tip deathly glaring.

His eyes dimmed when he caught a careless movement several meters away from him. Without hesitation, he released the string, and it pierced through the air.

Thud!

A beastly roar sounded and came to a dead stop. Moulin narrowed his eyes, and he ran towards the direction of the sound.

His footsteps were fast yet quiet. Afraid of rousing other creatures in this dead forest. His eyes caught a large wolf-like corpse lying on the mossy ground. The tip of the arrowhead pierced through from the front of its neck to its nape. Blood dripping continually and a puddle of crimson soaked the ground. The moss absorbing the scarlet liquid hungrily.

Moulin walked towards the beast's lifeless body, uncaring of the blood staining the heels of his shoes. Before he could even inspect the corpse, the beast's body glowed a bright blue before it deformed, shaping into a small thumb-sized sapphire orb. It hovered in the air shortly before it descended by gravity.

Moulin caught it between his fingers before it hit the ground. He raised it to his face and examined attentively. Curiosity overwhelmed his surprise in seconds. It was a pity he hadn't brought his favorite satchel with him...

Without warning his white band gleamed a bright light and a message materialized, levitating inches above his bracelet.

'1 spirit pearl obtained, 99 remaining'

Afterwards, a timer appeared under the message. He was left with two-and-a-half hours after spending half an hour walking around. Moulin frowned as his eyes turned listless. Right, it wasn't the time for relaxation and comfort. He needed to finish the trials as quickly as possible if he wished to obtain peace and comfort. He mentally berates himself for being so irresponsible.

He tapped the pearl on his white band and it instantaneously disappeared, absorbed by his bracelet. The light receded and Moulin lifted his gaze ahead. Time was running, so he needs to find more beasts to slay.

He gazed up in the sky as he started moving ahead. It was cold around this part of the forest. Perhaps most of the beast were hiding unless they were hungry. He has read that winter had recently passed in Thaeria. It could be possible the beasts might be awake from hibernation in search of food.

Lowering his gaze, Moulin sliced the pale skin on his forearm with the sharp end of his longbow. Blood seeped out from the cut and it poured down his arm in streams. The scent of iron blended in the air around him.

Although he has only read about countless species of beasts in books he had never actually seen them so he could only trust his instinct as he moved forward. However, he knew that the sweet scent of blood belonging to humans was easy bait to lure both large and small beasts. Why does he have to laboriously search for beasts when he can make them come to him instead?

All of sudden, rapid steps sounded from behind him. The sound of claws scraping on rocks entered Moulin's ears. His silver eyes narrowed as he quickened his pace. Yet, no matter how much he runs the creature seems to be catching up on him. It was interesting.

Moulin smirked, gripping the longbow in his hand. He wondered how many kills he would make before reaching half an hour?

...........................

Within this time, the Guild lords vision roamed every individual within the mountainous terrain.

Their evaluating eyes sometimes focused on the large golden scroll beside them revealing the list of the names of the candidates written in deep gold. Appearing and disappearing from their position in the list as if in a race to the top. Concurrently, no candidate was permanently seated on the number one spot on the list. It was always changing. Thus, it was empty at the moment.

Ilona lazily leaned back on her seat, resting her tired eyes as one of her guild members behind her massaged her temples. Her emerald eyes peeked up from underneath her long black lashes, glancing at the Leonile Lord beside her who have never paid her any attention. There was something different about him today that she could not discern.

She was used to his mysteriousness and cold attitude but this time, there was something about the lord which probed her curiosity.

Wasn't he starting way too much in the mirror?

Who was he watching?

Her eyes narrowed as she raised her hand to stop her follower's ministrations. A playful smile adorned her lips while she leaned towards the Lord from her seat, uncaring of the large distance between them.

"Ilona, behave..."

Before she could open her mouth, a commanding voiced broke her excitement. She frowned turning to the Lord sitting past the Guild Lord of Dragor.

Guild Lord Ordan of the Guild Dragor ignored them both as he focused on his mirror. He was already used to the pair's arguments and banter that he felt unfortunate to be seated between them.

"Maiel..." Ilona hissed. Her hands itching to scratch his face with her sapphire painted nails.

Maiel, Guild Lord of Trylle. His impassive countenance had always irritated Ilona and his half-elf features were extravagantly magnanimous. His feminine-like charms did not confuse people of his gender. Because of his height and outstanding Wind abilities as well as his manly aura, not one had confused him for a woman.

Maiel looked at her at the corner of his cerulean eyes. As though his pupils had carried the bright surface of the sea as well as the dark depths underneath it. His current look was as if telling Ilona not to disturb anyone especially him.

She sneered, "Mind your own business, Lord Trylle."

"I would if you would cease your unwomanly business..." Maiel looked away from her and stared at the golden scroll covering beside his mirror. "We have a lot of promising candidates to join our guild family. Might as well you start doing your job properly as a Guild Lord..."

"Tsk..." Ilona rolled her eyes, "Of course, that is what you wish. How boring..."

Maiel could feel a vein on his forehead throbbing. He glared sharply at Ilona as if to intimidate her. The latter, however, returned the same look. Their glaring eyes clashed as though the first one who dares to look away would lose.

Ordan shook his head with a sigh.

His eyes glanced at the Leonile Lord, undisturbed with the happenings around him as though nothing would faze his concentration. Ordan's gaze lowered. Feeling that he was not eligible to meet Leonile's golden gaze.

Unaware of the occurrences around him, Hadrian rested his chin on the back of his hand laxly. His form was loose but his attention on the mirror had never wavered. As though he was watching an interesting show that he was dying to see in years. Golden eyes gleamed under the reflection of the glowing water mirror.

Varick pressed his lips together feeling unsettled. He was well aware of who the Lord had his eyes on. However, to think his master wouldn't even look at anyone except for Moulin had completely left him dumbfounded. Was he intending to recruit the young master Fraunces alone? Crying imaginary tears, he could only swallow his oppositions.

Suddenly, Hadrian's eyes narrowed in vigilance.

........................

A loud screeched noised into the forest, scaring away hidden birds into the sky. Red splashed filthily on the soil.

The cries of the flaming tiger ceased as the youth with silver hair withdrew the ice arrow impaling the neck of the beast mercilessly. After a flash of light, a sapphire orb hovered. Without a thought, the youth snatched the orb in the air.

Moulin's eyes dimmed as he froze the red stained of blood on his fingers. It flurried in specks of snow into the air, once again revealing the pinkish blush of the tips of his fingers.

He checked on the update of his band as he tapped the orb on the white bracelet. The words appeared in the air.

'76 spirit pearl obtained, 24 remaining'

Moulin smiled. His eyes turning into crescents. Sometimes it amazes him how he can surprise himself with his improvements. However, he knew his strength wasn't enough. Although he was far ahead than he had thought, he shouldn't stop now. It was better to keep going than delay.

He put down his arm and turned away to start a new killing spree. His eyes unusually grew sharp and excited. The wound on his arm had already healed and the scent of his blood had been overwhelmed by the potent scent of the blood from the beasts he had slain. Once was enough, he had promised Emlen that not a scratch would be seen on him or else Emlen would definitely flip out.

He needed to prove to his elder brother that he was capable and responsible. With that in thought, he walked forward.

While he was walking, he fiddled with the unbreakable string of his longbow. His fingers attempted to roll the string between his fingers, wondering if it was true that sacred weapons could never wound their owners.

Minutes have gone by and Moulin had to agree with the confirmation. Not a single red mark was seen on the surface of his fingers. He didn't feel even a hint of numbness. His eyebrows rose in admiration. How extraordinary-

...

Moulin abruptly stopped.

His hands gripped his sacred weapon as the silent wind danced around him, as though giving him a warning.

A tiresome sigh escaped his lips.

The rustling sound of leaves and the crunch of twigs on the earth underneath heavy footsteps entered Moulin's ears. Moulin turned around with furrowed eyebrows.

Six... No seven people stepped out from the shadows of the trees. Their eyes glued on Moulin's lone figure.

Moulin cursed internally...

He was too focused on finishing his task that he didn't notice he was followed. For a moment, he sensed danger in his heart but it gradually vanished when he saw the 'leader' of the group of men stepping into his view.

It was the incredibly rude young Lord from the test who gained quite a high rank. His amethyst eyes arrogantly stared at Moulin. His gait was full of pride and haughtiness. His entire being exuded an extravagant aura as though he already knew what would be the result of the situation he had currently started.

Callun raised his hand, signaling his men to surround Moulin. Like loyal dogs to their master, they did as they were told, surrounding Moulin like a pack of wolves preying on a lost deer.

Callun lifted his head. Staring at Moulin...

Moulin... was dreadfully... restraining not to let out a laugh.