Ten days had passed since the hunting expedition officially ended, and the Protégés gradually returned to the designated rendezvous point.
From the original count of over nine hundred, only six hundred had assembled by evening, with two hundred and eighty Protégés failing to return. Most had perished in the skirmishes within the Hidden Hollows.
The Cobalt Strike had since taken control of the area, clearing out many Elixir Herbs and magical ores.
Despite the heavy losses, the hearts of most Protégés were still ablaze with excitement. They had all gained something in the Hidden Hollows, with some of their hauls inciting envy amongst their peers.
Adirich's face was clouded with gloom as he and his team sat in a corner; they had been on the brink of the greatest bounty that day. But in the ensuing chaos, not only had they sacrificed more than a dozen Protégés, but the treasures they had seized had dwindled to a pittance, leaving none for each of them. They were irate, having spent the last ten days hidden in the forest, nursing their injuries rather than continuing the hunt.
The mastermind behind their misfortune was that assassin. Where did he spring from? And why did he slay Trevas? The more Adirich pondered, the more baffled and aggrieved he became. Had he offended someone?
"Departure is at dawn!"
The five Elders did not rush to leave, deciding to wait another night. When it came to hunting missions, it was often said, 'no waits for the tardy.' Still they tried to wait as long as possible. After all, these were Protégés of the Cobalt Strike, and they couldn't be simply abandoned.
Throughout the night, people trickled back, most looking harrowed. Upon seeing that the Elders were still present, they bowed repeatedly in gratitude. The journey back to Cobalt Strike was three days away, and if left to travel alone, who knew what dangers they would encounter?
"Is Alavin dead?" a Protégé suddenly asked beside Adirich.
"Alavin?" Adirich lifted his sullen gaze, nearly having forgotten the lad.
"Who's captured Alavin?" A Protégé circled nearby, inquiring among the Grand Elder's faction, but all shook their heads.
Someone scoffed, "Maybe he's long dead. With his meager skills and being alone, surviving would be a miracle."
"I saw Alavin ten days ago, alive but in dire straits," said someone from Trevas' squad. They were originally eight-strong, now only four remained. Even their captain Trevas had perished in the caverns, and the vexing part was that they didn't even know who the killer was.
"Didn't catch him?" Adirich's brows furrowed slightly; how did he escape after being spotted?
"He got away." They were reluctant to speak of that day's events, too shameful to recount.
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