Becoming Legend

4 hours ago. Southwest of Wrath Island. A day away from the center.

"Never saw you slack like this?" the Werelion asked. He's got the body of an over-jacked individual with the curved of his muscles visible even under the thick of his brown fur. He was naked above but wrapped in a stylish cloth donning under his waist down to his ankle. It was like a skirt but for muscular men. It has the color of strong gold that acquainted his beastian eyes. The fur around his neck was overdone that one might wonder if how does a man breath on those.

The man he was talking to was kneeling on one over the branch of a tree. He was clad in black leather that kept his face hidden under a hood. There's no way for the Werelion to tell whether the man was indeed a man or a woman. Not even his voice he recognized since they barely talk. But sure this man was respected with the intricacy of his spells and value to the team. He was always calm, and think ahead of time.

But not this time. The Werelion could smell hate and fancy at the same time. A scent he smelled for the first time in 5 years they have been together as a mercenary for an organization called the Seven Genesys.

"Do not start on me, Gorion," Tailor said. His voice was muffled under the black cloth wrapped around his mouth down to his neck, all the while covered in a hood.

Gorion moved a step closer to the Tailor. Everything was new to him regarding the Tailor. For five years, Gorion the Werelion barely heard him talk. Most notably of all, the Tailor never used real names when they talked to each other.

"Oh boy," Gorion said that came out more of a growl. A strong and long canine tooth was visible under his lips. The other tooth was half broken as though someone punched it. "I could bite you right now; right here, Tailor."

Aside from their leader, no one knew who the real Tailor was. Not even his name they knew. But one thing was certain around their group: six of them envied the Tailor that most of them wanted him to die so that they could take over as the right-hand man.

"Not now, Gor—"

"Say it again, and I will tear your neck. I don't care about the mission, Tailor. Come on. Say my name again." the Werelion pounced the Tailor and extended the claws hidden under his gloves and pointed the five of them to the Tailor's neck.

Even though the Tailor was talking with his back pointing at the Werelion, Gorion could feel killing intent residing behind his back. If fear could materialize, it would be like a thousand swords pointed at Gorion with the intent to kill him even if he just breathes. He doesn't dare to look behind his back.

Slowly the claws retracted under the gloves he was wearing. As soon as he does, he felt a strong relief behind him. Cool and refreshing air blew behind his back.

"Have you done what the Claymaker asked you to do, Beast?" Tailor asked. Did not bother to look behind him. His fingers were twitching as though they have a life of their own. Under him, below the tree, he was observing four candidates and one of them intrigues him. Two archers, one mage, and a warrior all kneeling with his puppets standing behind them. One candidate was standing far from the group together with one of his puppets. The candidate wore his silver hair with calm, while he stood with his cloth so clean, it seemed that he wasn't there to join the Hunter Exam but just to look handsome.

Not far from the group was the dead body of the Grade C magical beast known as the hole worm by the locals to the place it was found.

"Done," Beast said, pacing closer to the Tailor. He then bent. All those movements and not even a sound were heard from his furry boots. "You seemed to miss some over there."

"Let me take care of my own." The Tailor shrugged a shoulder. He spoke with his voice wasn't in a hurry at all.

All of the sudden. One of the candidates, the female archer shoot an arrow but missed one puppet and ran to escape.

Before the Beast could react, or even blink an eye. The Tailor was already gone on his side. He couldn't even smell the scent or feel his presence anymore.

The last thing he saw under the gaps of the trees and shadows was the head of the female archer cut away from her body. And the Tailor stood beside the dead body with white, and fine thread slithering back under his sleeves.

2 hours after.

"Wow!" The Beast almost roared seeing one of the Tailor's puppet was dead with his Core pulled off his chest. The Beast was trying to hide his excitement as he masked the joy of his voice with surprise. "Who could have done this?"

"It's him." The Tailor leaned closer to the dead body of the puppet as he tried to examine it. He leaned to smell, then touched the part of the chest where the Core was formerly had been in place. "The kid who they called Ned."

"Ned?" Still, the Beast was holding the joy in his voice. He stood with both hands on his sides and was looking down at the Tailor. His disappointment cheered him. "Don't tell me that scrawny kid before? I thought you said to kill that kid? Have you miscalculated him? Impossible."

"Impossible? No. Miscalculated?" The Tailor went silent. It was a fault he miscalculated on his part. The Tailor was known to enjoy first before he killed his prey. But it was also that attitude that let him escaped Ned.

"You're saying is that the kid has seen through your illusion?"

The Tailor sighed, but he was calm. He then stood and turned to look at the Beast.

"First of all, it wasn't an illusion," the Tailor said as a matter of fact. Almost raised a finger to educate the Beast. "It was a magic that let me absorb the light and turned them to mimic its surrounding. Also, the materials I used to create the puppet were mined in Phoenix Ridge. It was a legendary material that I could only create five of my planned 20 puppets..."

The Beast crossed his arm while he tapped his furry boots. Enjoying the disappointment the Tailor was having. But he was better at hiding it as he looked at the Tailor with a deadpan face. Added with the thick fur on his face, even the Tailor was having a hard time reading him.

" I never knew you could talk these much." The Beast nearly burst in laughter, but he was trying to hold it that his eyes turned reddish.

The Tailor stopped talking and spun to check the puppet once again. They were both suspended over the tree.

Suddenly, at the same time, both of them pulled something out of their pocket.

It was a stone, smaller to the size of at least a thumb. The stone was perfectly cut and was blinking yellow. The light was enough to light the faces of the two even under the darkness.

The light from the stone blink once again, stopped, then blinked twice, and paused for almost ten seconds. It then blinked once again, paused then blink twice, and dimmed to a grey stone.

"It's for you," the Beast said but the tone of his voice was flat. This only means that they were talking about their mission.

For five years they have been together in their group. The Beast never saw the Tailor to hesitate. But now, the Tailor was barely moving as though deciding to either follow the order or proceed to the plains over the horizon.

The Beast sigh, a gesture he did to try to hide his excitement.

"Let me handle this kid," the Beast then said. This made the Tailor almost jumped in surprise. In their group, no one is allowed to help each other. Ones mission was his own.

The Tailor nearly bowed to the Beast. Remembering his potion, he spun and knelt to the dead puppet. He then hovered his arm and with a flick of his wrist, the dead puppet vanished in an instant. He then jumped off the branch and before the Beast could notice that he went east of them, the Tailor was gone.

It was at that moment that the Beast grinned. So much that the pair of his teeth were visible up to his gum. He licked the broken tooth and looked over the horizon where he could smell a strong yet aromatic scent.

After killing a dozen of candidates along the way, he stopped after he noticed a group of candidates fighting the abnormally evolved hole worm. But he wasn't there for the struggling candidates. He was there to the kid that killed the puppet and was about to do another one after seeing that the transformed puppet locked with some kind of chains around his legs.

As Ned raised a sword, the Beast used the Mana to circulate in his body and focused all of it on his legs. This was done to make sure that he makes it to Ned before he killed the puppet.

Make it he did after he caught Ned's wrist, successfully stopping the sword an inch away from the struggling puppet's head.

"What do we got here," the Werelion growled.