"A Reacher? I did hear one screaming, but that's not why told you too get off the path." The man said, taking Riachi's shoulder barge at full force, although it didn't seem too faze him whatsoever. Then as if this man and the earlier Reacher attack wasn't enough, a low rumble could be heard from the path. "That is why you should get off the path, swordsmen."

From the path came a huge serpent, scales as black as death and it's two eyes as yellow as the sun, with two oval like pules slitting the through the eyes. This serpent had a pair of large horns resting on it's forehead as well. It slowly slithered it's way up the path, with it's menacing eyes starring down on whoever dared too stand in front of such a beast.

---

"Short joke? That's all you got?" The person said crossing it's arms, and standing so it rested most of it's weight on it's right leg. "That's the kind of things five year olds use, though it wouldn't surprise me if you had the brain of one. But who cares right? Most Hunters are like that." The figure said rolling it's eyes at Fredrick. Although clothe covered it's mouth, it would be easy too assume the figure was cursing Fredrick, under it's breath.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Riachi bluntly yelled, still walking down the path. He really couldn't care if the thing behind him was going to attack him. He had his sword drawn, and if it would come close he'd use it. His patience had been on a low since the reacher first attacked him, and the deadline really worked on his nerves.

"Until next time, oh fashionable one!" He called after the figure as it retreated once more into the shadows, reminding the knight that he truly ought to head to a tavern. Fritz caught the head easily in his left hand, spearing the bloody object on the tip of his weapon, albeit it was shallow enough to where the monster's face was untouched.


Sighing to himself, the knight proceeded to gaze upon his handiwork with a mix of both pride and guilt. Pride and joy for slaying the beast after it had done to best to end his, but a deep and overwhelming shame that he hadn't saved this town from oblivion. He spat at the decapitated body, cursing it what with its unholy eyes and it's thirst for blood.

Shaking his head, he removed his helmet for a moment, wiping his moist forehead with his tabard. After taking a deep and ragged breath, he made his way on the path back to the village he had been to originally, replacing his emotionless helmet as he did.