6. Hunting Palismen Instant

Hunter stepped through the market stalls, his golden boots clicking on the petrified wood flooring. He saw a small, elderly witch desperately clutching a wooden bat-like creature to her chest. She was trembling. Hunter didn't feel the thrill of the hunt; he felt a dull, familiar ache—the same one that whispered that he wasn't doing enough.

Luz Noceda stood there, her hood up, a glowing ice glyph in her hand, having followed the scouts to protect the local wildlife. 6. Hunting Palismen

Belos needed palismen. The scouts were ordered to snatch them from the unsuspecting witches of the market. Hunter stepped through the market stalls, his golden

Just as Hunter reached out, a bright streak of blue fire and magic slammed into the stall, knocking a crate of screaming mandarins into the air. "Leave her alone, you masked menace!" Hunter didn't feel the thrill of the hunt;

Hunter looked at the fox, then back at the approaching Coven guards. He made a split-second decision that would change everything.

The witch hesitated, tears filling her eyes. She knew what "rehabilitation" meant for a palisman—the green goo, the destruction, the quiet.

"Hand it over," Hunter commanded, his voice muffled by the mask, trying to sound cold and calculating, like Belos. "The Emperor demands all wild magic surrendered for… rehabilitation."