Furious Flare huddled along with her fellow hunters beneath the overhang of a large evergreen tree. The plant was out of place amidst the rest of its more leafy fellows, but that was common for the Everfree. Either way, its cover was appreciated, though the pony didn't enjoy the poking her booted hooves were receiving from the pine needles that covered the ground in a thick mat.

“How goes the search?” Furious Flare asked, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of rain pouring all around them.

“Not well, I admit,” muttered the hunter, his gaze remaining fixed on the map he held. “I can't make heads or tails of where we ended up and there doesn't seem to be any notable landmarks nearby.”

“The rain certainly isn't helping,” added another.

“And the elements? What about them?” Furious Flare pressed.

“They’ve departed, and seem to have devised some manner of spell to help them find their way,” offered another of the hunters, this one holding aloft a crystal ball.

Furious Flare peered into the orb and noted that her underling seemed to be correct. Spike paused, took a breath, and exhaled a plume of smoke that turned into an arrow pointing further into the forest.

“Hmm, they are all present,” Furious Flare murmured. “This is most… vexing.”

“Are you sure about this boss?” Whispered a nervous hunter. “I signed up to fight monsters, not Equestrian heroes.”

“It won't come to that, and if it does, we will do what we can to restrain them,” Furious Flare exclaimed. “Though I had hoped it wouldn't come to this we must play the hand we are dealt.”

“But it's the elements of harmony,” murmured the same hunter. “Could we even win a fight with them?”

“Strong though they are, they are still just civilians,” Furious Flare declared confidently. “They don't have our training, nor our conviction.”

“But-”

“Silence,” Furious Flare interrupted. “I know you have your doubts but you must remember the foe we are truly fighting. Even if it meant slaying the elements-”

The few of the hunters gasped.

“We must still see our mission through to the end,” Furious Flare finished. “Need I remind you of the stakes of this hunt?”

There was a moment of indecision before the gathered hunters shook their heads or muttered some manner of no under their breath.

“Good, now give me a gear check. We move out in five,” Furious Flare ordered.

“Right.”

“On it boss.”

Furious Flare nodded and watched as her mixed-race cadre of trained monster hunters looked through their gear. Like her, they all wore enchanted leather armor with deep hoods, and capes to keep the rain from their back and bore no markings. Unlike her, they had both a longsword and a dagger, the weapon similarly bearing magical enhancements to aid in cutting.

Her own weapon hummed needfully upon her back, a warmth radiating from the ancient blade. Drawing the sword, Furious Flare glanced down at the runic inscription, her eye pulled unconsciously to its undecipherable text. In the distance, a bolt of lightning struck something while at the same time, the words on the flat of the blade twitched as if in eagerness.

“Is something wrong, huntmaster?” Inquired a young hunter.

“No, I was just… thinking,” Furious Flare murmured, biting down the urge to spit an angry insult at the male for having dared to interrupt her thoughts.

“About what?” pressed the young male.

Furious Flare glanced up at the stallion, meeting his bright blue eyes.

“I was thinking about how thankful I am to the princesses for this opportunity,” Furious Flare finally declared. “Not only did they believe my divination where all others doubted me, but they also gave me the honor of striking the beast down.”

“Still,” Furious Flare murmured, eying her blade for a second longer before slipping it back into its holder. “I wish this opportunity had never come, for I had hoped there were no more foes left to slay.”

“Don't say that. This is your chance to return your house to good standing! Maybe even have your noble status reinstated,” Pleaded the male.

“Silent Strike,” Furious Flare uttered, her gaze narrowing. “It is the joy of every warrior to find themself irrelevant in an age of peace. Though I relish the hunt, I do not relish the necessity of it.”

“Now come,” Furious Flare declared, leaving no chance of a response. “I believe our tracker has acquired the scent so to speak.”

“I have, huntmaster,” murmured another male, pausing to tuck his maps back into a waterproof pouch on his chest. “We were able to divine the beast’s location and have a bearing.”

“Then lead the way,” Furious Flare declared.

“Silent Strike, watch your right. Oaken Shield, hang back and tend to that wound,” Furious Flare barked.

The two other hunters did as they were ordered, with Silent Strike shifting suddenly and bringing up his sword just in time to swipe it across the face of a timber wolf. Oaken Shield turned and ran, ducking behind a tree, his half-stone leg leaving him with an awkward limp. The opening left behind by the hunter was filled immediately, with Furious Flare striding forward, her blade floating above her head.

“Squaak!” cried the cockatrice, its eyes glowing brightly.

Furious Flare was faster still, however, her weapon floating down before her and igniting with its own radiance. The animal expected its glare to turn the blade to stone but somehow, the magical steel was unfazed by the attack. Not only that but it radiated such an intense killer instinct that the creature was briefly stunned, stumbling back a step in shock.

The unicorn didn't know why the simple-minded beast had left itself exposed in such a fashion but she didn't care. A swift horizontal strike removed one of its wings, causing bright red blood to gush out onto the forest floor. In a confused panic, the thing ran squawking from the clearing, sprinting away as fast as its little legs could carry it.

The remaining foes, a pair of timberwolves larger than most of their kind, seemed to understand that the fight was lost. Moving faster than Furious Flare, the two wood monsters leaped back and followed after the cockatrice. Her hunters moved to pursue, but Furious Flare held up a hoof, stopping them dead in their tracks.

“Leave them,” she ordered through grit teeth. “We have wounded to tend to. We don't have time to chase them down.”

“Damn it all,” cursed one of the other hunters, throwing his weapon at the muddy ground. “We could have had them.”

“I will not accept unnecessary sacrifices,” Furious Flare stated, though even she struggled to resist the anger that burned hot in her breast. “Would you leave our injured without protection?”

The other hunter sighed and trotted over to his fallen weapon, plucking it from the cloying earth.

“No,” he muttered.

“Then let us return to the others,” Furious Flare half offered, half ordered.

The hunter hung his head in defeat, his steps heavy and plodding.

“Cheer up Silent Strike,” Furious Flare whispered. “We have fought more beasts today than most do in a year.”

“Yeah we’ve fought a ton but it's not like we’ve won any of these fights,” Silent muttered back.

“Survival is a victory. Don't forget that,” Furious Flare stated.

Striding ahead of the young male, Furious Flare couldn't see the wide, awe-filled expression on his face. All she cared about was checking on the small group of hunters huddled near the base of the tree. Unlike earlier today, now their weapons and armor were stained by their use. Blood, both pony and beast mingled on their forms, while their blades were chipped, their edges slowly dulling. Only Furious Flare did not suffer from this fate, her armor remaining unblemished, and her sword undamaged despite its frequent use.

“Status report,” she barked.

“It doesn't look good,” muttered a hunter leaning against the trunk of the tree. “Oak’s gonna lose the leg at this rate. Worse, I think the antidotes we brought with us won't be enough to save Dirk.”

Furious Flare glanced down at Oaken Shield, the stone-faced old stallion grimacing as he held aloft his rock like leg. The injury was a painful one, but the older hunter remained resolute, patiently holding out the limb while a healer looked it over. Dirk was in much worse shape, as the female lay in the mud, twisting in agony and thrashing against some unseen foe. Her armor had been stripped down to the midway point of her barrel, revealing a nasty greenish puncture wound on her shoulder.

“That manticore had a strangely powerful venom,” Furious Flare remarked.

“It wouldn't have been a problem had those timberwolves not shown up,” murmured the hooded hunter.

“Any theories on why this is happening?” Furious Flare offered.

“No idea,” murmured the other hunter. “Timberwolves are fiercely territorial and certainly wouldn't come to the aid of an encroaching predator.”

“Perhaps they see us as some greater threat,” Furious Flare posited.

“Frankly huntmaster, you give them too much credit,” the hunter offered grimly. “I think our worst fears have been realized and that whatever corrupted sentience that this forest has birthed sees us as enemies.”

“Why hasn't it seen the ork as a foe then?” Furious Flare pressed.

“No idea,” the hunter muttered bitterly. “The Everfree is as inscrutable as ever I’m afraid.”

“Hmmm,” Furious Flare murmured.

The mare looked over her rag-tag group, noting that they were now being weighed down by a third of their number being injured. A sudden burst of rage erupted within her, and a thought popped into the huntmaster’s mind. They were weak, imperfect, and worst of all their inadequacies threatened her mission. It took several deep breaths of cool moist air to stem the tide of these bitter thoughts but when finally they were banished, her mind was empty once more.

“Gather the wounded,” Furious Flare declared suddenly. “Willow, Tusker, and Pommel will transport them back to Ponyville.”

“But that will halve our numbers,” Silent Strike offered.

“It doesn't matter,” Furious Flare retorted. “I will not accept unnecessary casualties, even if it endangers the mission. A bloody victory would be far worse than a bloodless defeat.”

“What about the return array?” someone asked. “We could use that to return the wounded.”

“The array will return all who wear the armor of the hunters back to base, meaning the hunt would be a failure,” Furious Flare replied. “How long does Dirk have?”

“If I strapped her to my back, I could fly her back to town in time to save her,” declared a pegasus mare.

“Then see to it,” Furious Flare declared.

“Hold on, do you really think we can take the ork with so few of us?” someone asked.

“I believe we can,” Furious Flare declared, her confidence buoying the spirits of those around her. “We are a team. We have trained together for some time, and I believe it is these bonds that will carry us through.”

“Now go and worry not,” Furious Flare exclaimed. “For although your mission is not to fight the ork, you still bear a great and terrible responsibility. That of ensuring that your comrades live to see tomorrow.”

“You heard the mare, let's go!” Someone shouted.

The small camp suddenly became a flurry of activity as the four guards began organizing themselves and gathering the wounded.

Furious Flare looked on, her features stony and unreadable while deep down an unpleasant rage simmered bitterly.

Furious Flare strode through the wind and the rain, her head held high and her horn blazing brightly. Her blade swung left and right, cleaving one timberwolf in half before smashing apart another’s foreleg. Before her, the horde of wooden creatures closed in, their numbers meaningless due to the high muddy walls of the ravine that rose on either side of her.

The creek was mostly dry, only coming up to the bottom of Furious Flare’s barrel at its deepest point. Still, it slowed her down, the mud and water clinging to her as if they were trying to drag her to her knees. Furious Flare wasn't about to let that happen, she knew that behind her, the other hunters were covering her rear as she did the same for them.

A broad swipe cleaved another timberwolf in half, the death of the creature giving her little joy. They seemed to be endless, and cared little for their losses, clambering over the inert forms of their now-dead comrades to get to their living prey. Even still, her strength held despite it all, the mare continuing to sweep aside resistance with powerful strikes of her ancient weapon.

Smashing apart another duo of timberwolves revealed a gap in the horde, giving Furious a moment to breathe. Taking that second to glance over her shoulder, the mare noted that her companions had managed to form up. Their tumble into the muddy ravine had not been planned, but they had reacted appropriately, ensuring that there were no injuries worse than the odd bump or scrape.

“Look out Furious!” Someone shouted, a blur zipping past her right side.

The mare spun back around, her blade angrily leaping out at the shape before her. Realization struck her a moment before her weapon thankfully did, as the foe she thought to slay was not an enemy at all. Silent Strike had saved her from a snake, his blade removing its head before it could sink its fangs into her exposed side. Still, it took all of her magical strength to divert the blade in its path, the thing burying itself in the muddy wall ravine wall to the hilt.

With a bitter, angry growl, Furious Flare wrenched the ancient sword from its impromptu scabbard and used it to smash apart a leaping timberwolf. She then blasted the next one in line with a magma bolt, disintegrating the front half of the beast and leaving only behind a charred back end. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, as the remaining forest creatures slunk back into the darkness.

Furious Flare turned and glanced back at her comrades to find that the foes pressing in from behind were also retreating. This time there were no calls to harass or hunt down the fleeing creatures, as the hunters immediately fell to their knees, or toppled to the side. Relief washed over them like a wave, though it broke upon Furious Flare, the mare unbothered by the constant strain.

“Get up!” she barked. “We’re not out of this yet!”

“We need a moment huntmaster! We’ve been fighting for hours without pause,” complained another hunter further in the back.

“They could return at any moment. We must ascend the bank and locate the trail before the forest has a chance to rally more beasts,” Furious Flare declared.

“Not all of us are blessed by such an incredible constitution as you. We need rest,” complained another hunter.

Furious Flare’s jaw tightened, and she felt her sword pulse angrily in her magical grasp. For a moment she felt tempted to strike down the speaker and demand they continue the march immediately. She refused to entertain the notion, however, and holstered the blade once more.

“We must at least get out of this ravine first,” Furious Flare stated, her voice softer this time. “Resting with boots full of water is not advisable. ”

“You heard the boss lady, let's get going!” Silent Strike proclaimed.

Furious Flare strode ahead of the pack, clambering up the muddy embankment in little time. Once she stood atop the side, she glanced down and extended a hoof. Which was readily taken by Silent Strike, the stallion panting heavily and struggling to find purchase amidst the slippery earth.

“Th-thanks,” he muttered.

“It is no trouble at all, hunter,” Furious Flare stated evenly.

“I gotta ask,” Silent Strike began, only to pause and catch his breath. “How are you still able to keep going? We’ve been fighting constantly and you seem even more well rested than when we left.”

“It is my sword,” Furious Flare replied, touching the hilt of her weapon in emphasis. “The enchantments placed upon it allow me to continue fighting so long as I maintain my winning streak.”

“I heard about them. That one is part of a set called the Blades of Blood right?” Silent Strike asked.

“This is the master weapon, which served as the template for the other, lesser blades,” Furious Flare replied. “The others are powerful, yes but this weapon is in a league of its own. For this is the flayer blade, a weapon rumored to be older than Equestria itself if you believe the texts.”

“Wow. Can I hold it?” Silent Strike whispered, shaky hoof extended.

“No!” Furious Flare shouted, only to recoil and cough into her hoof. “No. Though sealed, there is a curse on this weapon which makes it difficult to wield by the uninitiated.”

“Right, sorry,” Silent Strike murmured.

Furious Flare sighed and watched as the rest of the beleaguered, waterlogged group of hunters clambered up the bank. As they did so, the rain finally began to peter out, with even the ever-present clouds starting to break apart. For the first time in what felt like forever, pure unfiltered sunlight beamed down on them, warming the hunt’s tired bones.

“While we rest, I’d like to go over a few things,” Furious Flare began, pacing back and forth in front of the other hunters. “First off, I’m assuming you all remember the plan.”

“We are the daggers in the dark,” Silent Strike proclaimed.

“Exactly,” Furious Flare stated. “I will duel the creature to the best of my abilities while you all do your best to support me. Flank the creature, strike from the shadows while I maintain its focus.”

“What about the elements of harmony? They might try to help the beast,” Silent Strike offered.

“Ignore them unless they get in the way, then… Deal with them as best you can,” Furious Flare exclaimed. “If you must attack them try not to use lethal force and if necessary, activate the return array.”

Furious Flare produced a hoof-sized flat stone covered in numerous faintly glowing runic arrays and offered it to the other hunter.

“You want me to be in charge of it?” Whispered the hooded stallion.

“Yes,” Furious Flare replied confidently. “If the situation becomes too dire, we will all be transported back to Ponyville.”

“I won't let you down,” Silent Strike proclaimed, stuffing the small cube into a chest pocket.

“I know you won't,” Furious Flare replied with a soft smile.

“Ma’am,” interrupted another hunter, waving the other mare over. “I think I’ve got a read on the target and it doesn't seem to be too far away either.”

“Show me,” Furious Flare ordered.

The hunter nodded, and lit their horn, causing the small orb held in their hooves to glow a bit brighter. Within the sphere was a strange clearing walled on all sides by a dense barrier of vegetation. There were odder sights still, such as oddly colored pyramid and several other small pillars or monoliths but Furious Flare didn't care. For her target had been sighted, and not only that but it seemed to be fighting a titanic hydra with the help of the elements of harmony.

“Get up, stow your gear, and prepare your weapons!” Furious Flare shouted. “Divineer, how far away is that clearing?”

“About half a mile I think,” murmured the other hunter.

“Good. Get a solid read on the location and then move out,” Furious Flare ordered. “We have an ork to slay.”

Author's Note

This was a request from... me! I wanted to see more and since its my birthday month, I'm giving myself a present and finishing arc 1 of this fic. Expect 3 more chapters soon!

Also, there are only 2 more chapters left in this arc. (I know I said that before but these godamn chapters keep getting bigger for some reason.)