The evening advanced slowly and other than the unpleasant encounter of Bave with the Resti team, it was uneventful that far.

Shimeo's streets grew quieter as most people were either resting from the long day, since dealing with the city decoration was taken a bit too seriously and one could blame it on the race for the annual Lords Union's rewards, or just enjoying themselves inside some local tavern.

Whatever the case, the neighborhoods gradually stilled the murmurs that kept the place busy. Of course, the poorer neighborhoods were first to bid farewell to the long day.

These corners of Shimeo sheltered poor townsmen who sweated under the unforgiving sun rays and prolonged hours of labor. It was understandable, and forgivable if most of them collapsed in beds for a well-deserved rest.

Shimeo was a city, as most major ones in Balhkara, that offered various entertainments for the darker part of the circadian cycle*. Be it the busy taverns, merry festivals, interesting traditional gatherings, feasts or random street stands that offered arts and crafts from foreign lands - Balhkaran people knew how to have fun.

However, it did have its moments of stilled nightlife.

The current mission that the three hunters were on couldn't request anything better from the annual festival. That somewhat made the young leader, who has locked his brows in a frown whilst focusing on something particular, realize that the Rose Festival was the perfect time of the year if one decided to use smuggling routes.

No one would pay attention to forests or swamps. No one would actually care to travel outside villages or towns.

Therefore, most routes would be secluded. A perfect opportunity to use them when no eye and no ear could pay attention.

The Concealers captain wondered for how long has it been going. Who were the people behind it and how come the Association Hunters Bar missed such an issue? Was it a loophole in the system or even worse, they knew but ignored it?

Many thoughts swirled in his head. However, the most important issue at that moment was to lay plans for tomorrow evening.

Bave was rubbing his stubble, otherwise recently shaved, chin whilst observing a map he drew on the sandy floor inside the horse house.

His pupils moved from side to side whilst assessing some routes leading to Luse. The man sighed audibly and his hands reached for his face to stroke his cheeks.

The shortest route, indeed, passed through the swamps. That way they wouldn't pass through the city but its outskirts.

It made no sense to pass through the center of the city as they had to continue several miles north to reach the checkpoint. The place wasn't located exactly in Luse but a bit northwest from it.

The young man reached his hand down to grab a stick he used to sketch the map with, and drew several lines to outline the possible routes.

The first one, the shortest but most disadvantageous, was through the wetlands and swamps.

The second, relatively short but difficult to pass through, was through valleys. The slopes could delay them tremendously.

The third was the longest - passing directly through Luse and then heading to the northwest.

Whilst he was tapping around with the stick, he heard the heavy stomps of horses walking towards the horse house.

The man lifted his attention off the map and awaited. Shortly after he heard the chattering voices of Koh and Kal.

It wasn't surprising that his teammates were checking all horse houses to look for their captain.

Bave heard them questioning the guard outside who then peeked in to let the man know that he was looked for.

"Let them in", the young hunter eased the guard who was worried whether to allow them in or not. After all, his duty was to guard the place and let only customers inside.

Before even the guard could go out and let the men walk in, the most impatient one barged inside. Kal's excitement to see his captain was visible as his voice was a bit too loud.

"Bave! You rascal!! I couldn't sleep at all!!! Do you know how worried we were?"

The older man paced toward the corner of the horse house, followed by the polite Koh who was just apologizing to the guard for Kal's impatience.

Bave chuckled and remained seated on the dirty ground. He had his luggage partially unpacked to the left of his side with the leftovers of banitsa neatly wrapped in a cotton cloth and his leather bota bag*.

"My bad. I arrived a bit late", the man offered his apology.

Kal noticed the blood clotted scratch on his cheek and cocked a brow.

"Did you win?", was his one question.

"Depends. If we judge by the fact I am alive...", Bave laughed and glanced over to Koh who finally aligned next to Kal.

"But?", Koh sensed there was more to his statement.

"But if we judge the situation, I lost", the young leader stated without a single ounce of shame.

Bave never saw a loss as something shameful. Rather, he took it as a lesson.

His teammates displayed a quick but subdued surprise. Their eyebrows slightly arched. Their captain lost? Impossible. It was probably Bave's perfectionistic tendencies.

The men quickly dismissed the topic and looked down at the dirt sketched map. They recognized Luse's area.

Kal crouched down and stared for a good few seconds.

"Laying plans? I think the wetlands are the best option", Kal commented.

"They are but..", just as Bave was about to remind Kal that their horses are not for any of the slippery paths of the swamp area, Koh already caught on.

"But the horses? That is quite dangerous."

Koh inched closer but remained on foot as his body was slightly chubby but big enough to make it difficult to crouch like Kal.

"Exactly. It is the shortest path nonetheless", Bave agreed.

"We don't have much of choice, or the time to waste on the other two routes", Kal insisted that it was their best option.

"So the swamps it is then", Koh threw his vote for the northern swamps of Balhkara.

"Swamps it is", Kal agreed and looked up to glance at Bave.

The young leader nodded briefly and reached his hand to smudge the map. The life of a hunter taught them that it was never good to leave evidence regarding their trips or plans.

Therefore, anything that could hint their route had to be taken rid of.

The men did not waste much time. They discussed how to align the horses anew. However, as Bave had used for the whole day his black horse, unlike Kal and Koh who had switched the colors once they left the periphery of the forest, he had to cover his white horse in clothing.

The idea of camouflaging themselves was still valid despite the enormous amount of difficulties they faced when it came to coordinating the harras.

However, this time Bave discussed the usage of dummies on the luggage-less horses. That way they would seem like a small group of men, rather than just three who were vulnerable in the late hours of the night.

The dummies could easily be discarded of, at any moment and anywhere. Besides, they could easily mimic a few additional "hunters" by stuffing some of the clothing they brought along with dried hay.

The horse house had a sufficient amount of hay. So, even they took some of it, nobody would notice the missing chunks. Although they discussed doing that once they leave the horse house. It would be rather weird if the guard saw three men but upon departure seven popped out.

The three hunters began stuffing bags and clothes, such they could find from Bave's luggage as their horses were outside, with dried hay. Kal, funnily so, decided to fill his loose shirt with it. Even if the man looked as if he were six months pregnant, it was some additional hay they could later use to feed the horses with!

Koh, unfortunately, couldn't use Kal's method as his big and chubby built did not allow so. But his pants leggings were loose enough. He mimicked Kal and began stuffing his clothing.

Bave was muscular but his body built was not overly toned. One could think he was skinny for a man, but beneath these clothes, a marvelous sculpture of defined muscles hid. Therefore, he could also mimic Kal and Koh, stuffing all the space with hay.

Now all was set and ready, the men exited the horse house. It was rather uncomfortable to walk as they looked ballooned to the maximum, and besides the dried hay made them itch irritably so.

The guard, luckily, didn't pay them much attention. He was too nervous about how to hide the liquor he secretly sipped from whilst on duty. It was funny how both the guard and the hunters had reasons not to pay much attention to each other's weirdness.

The hunters tried to fake that all was okay and nothing was wrong, despite smuggling out hay, whilst the guard was in a hurry to let them go, so he can continue his late alcoholic habits.

Fair exchange, one would say.

The three men decided to walk away on the ground whilst leading the horses off the pathway that was visible. It would have been rather comic, and embarrassing if they tried to ride the horses with clothes stuffed up to the necks and down to the ankles with hay. Any forceful movement threatened with either clothes getting ripped or hay "snowing" out of their pants.

The irritating itching made them walk as if stuffed with thorns but the men paced confidently forth, looking for a dead-end street where they could make the hay dummies and align the horses anew.

Once that was done, they could finally gallop out the city.

Whilst the three men were occupied with their current 'hay troubles', the horse house pathway was left as secluded as the hunters initially found it.

The horse house was more or less off the main streets, which probably was one of the reasons why the guard even allowed his alcoholic habits manifest.

His lips smacked happily after a long sip that made his throat tingle and his chest feel the warmth of the alcohol. The guard sighed audibly in content and just before he could take another sip from his leather bota bag, he was knocked out from behind.

A hand gently captured the man which prevented him from busting his head against the hard ground as his body gravitated forth and downward.

The unconscious guard was laid carefully down with his back leaning against a wall. His chest was moving up and down, and one could not mistake him for a dead man. Although he could easily be mistaken for a drunkard who drank himself to unconsciousness.

The one who skillfully knocked him out, rather swiftly and soundlessly, entered the horse house. The figure was tall, and one could tell it was a man even if the body was hidden under a black mantle. His back was wide, his shoulders strong and straight. No one would mistake such a built for a feminine one.

The stranger paced across the columns of horse slots before he came to a halt, just before a patch of dust that has been smudged – seemingly on purpose.

The figure crouched down and reached his hand to the ground. Slender and beautiful fingers caressed the dust as he paused before a partial corner where the letters "Lus-" were not well smudged. The size of the map could hint to anyone who knew what he was looking for, that the drawing was a specific area sketched up to plan routes.

The beautiful hand then turned and his knuckles gently brushed the dust, trying to uncover any trace of deeper lines that could tell him more. Or at least give him a rough idea of what was drawn. After a few brushes, the hand halted.

A deeply carved line has left a mark on the soil ground. The figure spent a few minutes, motionless. One would think he was either angry that the map was unreadable or that he was able to mentally sketch up the map anew.

If one looked closer and could pride in his memory, he would quickly recognize the figure. It was the same man who attacked Bave's team in the forest.

The man remained with his focus concentrated on that map. His determination was visible but not easily judged. Who was he? What did he need? And why did he need it? Was he after the hunters or after the Nominalia?