Mason sprinted through the forest, desperately bashing through the thick foliage. The rough bark of branches left scr.a.p.es on his arms, and his legs were abraded by thorny vines and other plants, but he didn't care.

He tumbled through the woods, occasionally crashing into trees. In one instance, he struck the trunk of a tree with such impact that he caused the birds nestled on its branches to fly away in a panic, their chirping filling the forest.

"Damn it! Shut the f.u.c.k up!" he snapped at the birds, even though he knew it wasn't their fault. His mind was in a mess, and he could hardly think straight. Did Yvonne hear the birds? Would she know that he was here? That he was the one who caused the fuss?

Surely not, right? The forest was so huge that she couldn't possibly hear it. Even if she did, there were plenty of times when birds flew out of trees, disturbed by other beasts. There was no way for her to tell if this ruckus was caused by him, to tell him apart from all the other beasts.

More importantly, he had to keep running. Yvonne could catch up with him at any time. It was entirely possible that she had chosen to chase the other two, but from past experiences he knew that she would quickly dispatch them before turning her attention to him.

It was just a matter of time.

Don't think about it, he told himself fiercely. Just focus on running away for now.

Breathing deeply, he barged through a particularly thick thicket, ignoring the thorns that scr.a.p.ed and scratched at him. With a cry, he tripped and fell onto the ground, more strips of his skin torn out by the prickly vines.

"F.u.c.k!" he screamed and scrambled to his feet, tears leaking from his eyes. The pain, the despair, they were all too much. Why did he had to suffer like this? What did he ever do to deserve this?

Forcing himself to continue running, he crashed through another dense patch of foliage. He had to keep running, to continue widening the distance between himself and his pursuer.

Closing his eyes momentarily, he couldn't prevent his thoughts from wandering back to the past year.

He was a noble from a marquis family, his lineage allowing him to ascend to the rank of minister without much difficulty. The royal family had entrusted the governance of several provinces to him, and many lords and ladies had sought his advice. Mason had been praised for his administrative skills and pragmatic policies.

That was why he was appointed as one of the ministers to assist the newly elevated Yvonne in governing her newly received province in the south.

At first, Mason had looked forward to the job. The opportunity to get close to one of the members who fought alongside the Hero Herman as he slew the Demonic Emperor Viledoofus…a member of the famed strongest Hero party…it was an honor that many nobles envied him for. He had been delighted when the king assigned him to this duty.

Furthermore, Mason saw an opportunity. The Hero Herman had opted to marry Irene instead of Miranda or Yvonne, leaving the other two girls heartbroken. Mason thought that in time he might be able to get closer to Yvonne and perhaps even marry her. The prestige of being the husband of one of the heroines who fought alongside one of the seven holy Heroes…that was incomparable.

However, the longer the time he spent alongside Yvonne, the more horrifying he found her to be. The past year, which began like a dream, had devolved into a nightmare. He and the other ministers had grown increasingly isolated when Yvonne blatantly ignored their advice and continually favored her tribe, no matter what sort of crimes they commited. He had witnessed the supposedly heroic Yvonne commit bloodcurdling atrocities, dispensing civilians' lives as if they were livestock and hunting them for her own entertainment.

Just how she was hunting him now.

"Damn it!"

He wasn't going to let her kill him. He was going to escape her, survive this ordeal, and return to the capital!

Then…he didn't care how he was going to do it, but he swore that he would have his revenge on the sadistic bitch.

But in order to do that, he had to first survive.

"AWOOOOO!"

"Ugh!"

Mason froze when he heard the howl. A second later, he made out shuffling noises close by, along with heavy panting.

Wolves.

It was only natural. This was a forest. Of course there would be wolves in it. In his panic, Mason had totally forgotten about that. He was so focused on evading the threat of Yvonne that he overlooked the fact that the forest was inhabited by other predators – those who weren't human. Dangerous beasts capable of ripping him apart with fang and claw.

Suddenly, Mason realized how badly under armed he was. He had no weapons, not even a small knife.

Gritting his teeth, Mason looked around warily. In addition to Yvonne, he would have to lose the wolves…as well as other predators that might be stalking him at the moment. He had no way of fighting back. Mason wasn't stupid – he was aware that his decades as a minister had made him soft. He had never held a sword before because his office never required it. Hell, he hadn't actually set foot in a forest before.

No training, no weapons, no equipment…and now that Mason thought about it, even if he had a knife, he probably wouldn't be able to wield it.

Cursing under his breath, he scrambled in the opposite direction, hoping to put as much distance between himself and the wolves. While he did so, he had half a mind to keep an eye out for Yvonne. Who knew where the bitch was…

"Ugh?!"

An arrow whizzed through the air and struck his leg. Mason shrieked in pain and toppled over, clutching his leg. The projectile had sheared through muscle and punched through bone. Tears leaking from his eyes, he tried to hobble on his other foot, but another arrow punctured his other leg, causing him to fall face first into the ground. Spluttering, he tried to crawl, but a third arrow nailed one of his hands to the fallen, rotting tree trunk that he was now using as a support.

Mason wailed and tried to yank his hand free, but was unable to dislodge the arrow. Clenching his teeth, he gripped the arrow with his other hand and pulled. But the blood made the shaft of the arrow slick and he wasn't able to hold it firmly, the projectile often slipping out of his grasp.

Behind him, the growls of the wolves drew nearer.

"HIIII!!!"

"Don't worry, I won't kill you."

Blinking, Mason glanced up and spotted Yvonne in the distance. She had propped herself up a nearby hill, using the elevation to his advantage. That must be how she found him. He stared at her pleadingly and she nodded, holstering her bow.

"P…please," he gasped.

"Like I said, I won't kill you," Yvonne assured him. Then she smiled. "But I can't say the same for them."

Mason turned his head around and caught sight of a pack of wolves loping through the foliage and emerging into the clearing he was in. trembling, he watched them, his mouth opening as if to plead.

Then the wolves pounced on him.

*

Birch exhaled as he waited, hidden behind a cl.u.s.ter of leaves. He was perched atop a branch, cautiously watching his surroundings. Chewing his lip, he waited.

Unlike the others, Birch wasn't going to run. He planned to fight. Previously, Birch had led hunting expeditions – the kind that nobles conducted during their free time. Leading a group of servants, they would stalk the forest, hunting wild birds, dears and the occasional wolves. The boldest of them set their sights on more menacing prey, such as bears.

Birch might not have been an adventurer, but he had participated in enough hunting trips to be well versed in setting up traps. He did the best he could with what he had on hand and was actually impressed with himself.

There was a slight thump to the side and he spun toward its direction. Someone or something had set off the trap to the right and a net made out of vines rose. Birch watched in anticipation, getting ready to hurl a makeshift spear at its contents…only to be disappointed when he saw that it was empty.

What set it off? He wondered.

There was a rustling to his left this time and a hole opened up, the poor target falling into a pit of spikes. There was a loud thump and the snap of bamboo blades, then silence.

Birch frowned. Something wasn't right. There was no cry of pain, no exclamation of surprise. Even a wolf would howl or a bear bellow if it had fallen into the pit.

Slowly, carefully, he crawled along the length of the branch and peered into the pit. His eyes widened when he saw that it wasn't a living thing that had fallen into it…but a rock. A large one, heavy enough to set off the long grass that he had used to cover up the hole.

"I must admit," a voice said behind him. "Your traps were impressive. Especially given the short amount of time you had to prepare them."

Whirling around, Birch saw Yvonne standing gracefully atop the tree branch he had wrapped his arms and legs around, without any fear of losing her balance. His eyes widened. When did she…? And how did she climb onto the same branch on him without him noticing it? He hadn't heard a single thing at all!

"A pity, though…that your opponent is me." Yvonne c.o.c.ked her head to the side. "Did you think you could fool me with those amateurish traps? Trying to show off to a trap mistress like me…don't make me laugh."

She slashed at him with her hunting knife, forcing the bald minister to release his grip on the branch. He tumbled through the air and hit the ground, his fall softened by vines and grass. Grunting, he tried to roll to his feet, but an arrow struck him in the back.

Birch toppled over, coughing. Another arrow hit his leg, pinning him to the ground.

"I must say, I like your style, though. Of all my quarry, you're the only one audacious enough to attempt to trap me." Yvonne dropped onto the ground. She flipped her hunting knife up and used the flat of its blade to lift up Birch's chin. The minister glared at her defiantly, refusing to sow any fear. The huntress smirked. "You almost made me want to spare your life."

She then withdrew her knife and turned away.

"Almost."

"Huh?" Birch blinked in surprise. "Aren't you going to finish me off?"

"Nah." Yvonne shook her head. "What? Did you think I was going to chop off your limbs and then barely keep you alive with healing magic? I'm a huntress, not a swordswoman. You're mixing me up with somebody else."

"…I don't even know what you're talking about now." Birch shook his head, bewildered.

"You don't have to. You won't be alive for much longer anyway."

There was a scr.a.p.e behind Birch and he tensed. Gulping, he slowly turned around. Behind him, a humongous bear stood, slavering as it stared ravenously at him.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, but I heard that being mauled by a bear brings about unbearable pain. Though, if it's you, I'm sure you can bear it, right?"

The only reply she received was an agonized scream, shortly drowned out by the bear's bellow even as it ripped into the poor minister with its deadly claws.

Sheathing her knife, Yvonne then slipped away and disappeared from sight.

*

Shortly after the hunting expedition, Yvonne and her tribesmen returned to Gallagher Town. The moment she returned to her palace, she immediately called for three male p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.es to assemble in her room.

The first of them was an experienced, middle-aged man who had honed his techniques over the years. The second was a young, sturdy man with well-toned muscles and about twenty years of age. The third was a boy who was barely an adolescent, looking pure and innocent. Yvonne had specifically called for a v.i.r.g.i.n. It had been a while since she had one of those.

All three of them were completely n.a.k.e.d, standing unashamedly before her and waiting patiently for her instructions.

"Ah…I always feel like this after a successful hunt."

Yvonne was shivering and m.o.a.ning, her hand moving to her damp crotch. She impatiently shrugged out of her bikini-styled armor, discarding the few fabric that she used to clad herself. Then she reclined on her bed, stretching her lithe body. She could see the immediate effect that her gorgeous figure – her plump b.r.e.a.s.ts, thin waist and wide h.i.p.s – had on the three men, all of them becoming erect. It brought a sly smile to her face.

She then gestured to the three male p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.es, ordering them to come forth to serve her. They didn't hesitate, the trio approaching them in unison. For some reason, Yvonne was reminded of the pathetic ministers she had just executed for their insolence and she giggled.

"My lady?" the boy asked, stroking her foot as gently as he could. Yvonne couldn't help but be amused by his innocence. Pity she would be stripping him of it soon enough.

"Continue," she told him, shivering in delight as she pressed the middle-aged man's head to her b.r.e.a.s.t, enjoying his skillful sucking of her n.i.p.p.l.e. Below, as the younger man thrust into her, her v.a.g.i.n.a.l walls clamped passionately around his thick p.e.n.i.s. She ruffled the boy's hair. "Use your tongue."

"If that is what you desire, my lady." The boy then stooped and began licking her foot, his tongue deftly beginning from her toes. Even though he was a v.i.r.g.i.n, he had still been trained well.

Giving herself over to pleasure, Yvonne allowed her mind to drown in the sensual delights. M.o.a.ning, her n.a.k.e.d body entwined with those of the three p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.es, she all but forgot about the demonic legion that was supposed to be approaching Zaid Town.

In all honesty, even if she had remembered, she wouldn't have cared less. After all, none of her tribesmen were currently in that town.

…or so she believed.