The Vile Seed’s Terrors and a Bard’s Unsettling Demand

“Boss, two drinks and a plate of cooked beef,” the tall monster hunter bellowed, his voice cutting through the tavern’s din.

Grasping the doorframe, the two monster hunters, one towering and the other considerably shorter, settled themselves by the entrance.

The tavern owner soon arrived, setting down two tankards of cheap ale and a platter piled high with cooked beef. “Gentlemen,” the owner began, setting down their drinks and narrowing his eyes, “while this may be a humble tavern, accustomed to hosting its share of unsavory folk, I must insist you change out of those monster-blood-soaked clothes before gracing my establishment again.”

“What insolence are you spouting, old man?” The tall monster hunter’s face darkened with displeasure. “We’re rather preoccupied saving the world; where would we find the leisure to change our attire?”

“Indeed, the pair of you reek as if you’ve just crawled from a sewer, like dead rats unearthed from their putrid burrows.” A new voice chimed in, cutting through the tense air.

It was Rob, his words slurring slightly, clearly having indulged a little too much.

The tall monster hunter slowly turned his head, his gaze falling upon Rob’s flushed face, and let out a derisive scoff. “Now, where did this little whelp spring from…” The tall monster hunter’s brow furrowed in thought. “Ah, it comes back to me. You’re the lot who ‘stole’ our Troll Hunt contract… what was your troupe’s name again? I recall one of your members was a cripple…”

“What do you mean ‘stole’?” Rob retorted, his hackles rising at the hunter’s disparaging tone. He stepped forward, ready to argue. “We secured that contract fairly, by our own merits, and dispatched that troll within a single day!”

“Oh, indeed, ‘stole’ isn’t quite the right word. Perhaps ‘ceded’ would be more accurate, as we graciously allowed you to take it.” The monster hunter took a slow sip of his ale, then speared a slice of beef with his fork. “After all, we were rather preoccupied with hunting far more formidable quarry.”

“What manner of creature could possibly prove more challenging to hunt than a troll?” Rob challenged, his voice laced with disbelief.

“An Evil Seed,” the monster hunter replied, a chilling grin spreading across his face. “This creature is infinitely more formidable to slay than your paltry trolls or festering flesh abominations.”

“Evil… what? I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Are you simply fabricating tales?” A look of utter contempt marred Rob’s features.

“You truly are an ignorant brat beyond description,” the monster hunter sneered, casually pushing Rob aside. He then strode towards two figures seated deeper within the tavern, who bore the distinct appearance of bards.

“My lord, what tale would you grace us with your esteemed ears to hear?” the elder bard inquired cautiously, his voice hushed.

“Regale this young upstart with a tale of the ‘Evil Seed’s’ true terror.” The monster hunter tilted his chin, then reached into his pouch, extracting several silver coins which he casually tossed onto the table before the elder bard.

“Indeed, my lord.” The elder bard’s eyes glinted as he swiftly gathered the coins, then cleared his throat with a practiced ease.

Beside him, a younger bard, with a more youthful countenance, unslung his lute from his back, plucking a few strings to emit a series of bright, resonant notes.

“Shall we listen to their stories, Ed?” Alice murmured, drawing close to Ed’s side and speaking softly into his ear.

“Very well,” Ed nodded in assent. “I’ve just concluded some pressing matters.”

Alice’s gaze drifted across the table, taking in the intricate sketches and maps dense with cryptic symbols. A wave of profound admiration swelled within her chest.

It was clear that Ed spared no effort in his preparations for every single hunt.

Indeed, were it not for Ed’s meticulously crafted hunting plans, coupled with his deep understanding of monstrous creatures’ habits, Link’s adventuring party would surely not have completed so many hunts without a single major mishap.

The sole exception had been during the troll hunt, when Rob, attempting to forge his own path, inadvertently led to their leader John sustaining an injury.

To Alice, Ed was nothing short of the perfect man: abstaining from drink, always calm and composed, and perpetually exuding a unique sense of security.

“...The gods, they have forsaken us…” The elder bard’s voice rose, slowly weaving the mournful lyrics into the tavern’s air.

“It speaks of the Celestial Court, Ed,” Alice whispered, a hint of excitement coloring her tone.

Ed subtly shook his head, his full attention now fixed upon the bard’s performance.

“Decades ago, following that great celestial anomaly, the Supreme Temple of our kingdom ceased to receive any tidings from the heavens. Have the gods truly perished, or have we perhaps fallen to a depth from which salvation is utterly beyond reach?” the elder bard’s song lamented. “Since that fateful time, our world has become a breeding ground for countless horrifying abominations: ghouls, goblins… They swarm in ravenous hordes, plundering villages, slaughtering men, and dragging women into the darkness… Yet now, an even more terrifying presence has descended upon this ravaged land!”

“The Church has christened them—Evil Seeds! These monstrous entities possess bones of unyielding hardness, move with superhuman velocity, and are, to all appearances, immortal!”

“Evil Seeds, indeed, the very seeds of damnation!” the younger bard interjected, punctuating his words with two sharp plucks of his lute strings.

“They bear a striking resemblance to humans, or perhaps more accurately, they once were human,” the elder bard continued, his voice heavy with dread. “They lurk concealed among us, biding their time, only to snatch our children and gorge themselves upon our very flesh and blood! I journeyed here from a village nestled by the Solitary Dark River, and not a single living soul remained; only desiccated corpses and scattered limbs bore witness to the horror—every inhabitant had been utterly consumed.”

As these words reached their ears, every patron in the tavern instinctively drew closer, forming a rapt circle around the bards. Even the tavern owner ceased his chores, his ears straining, his attention fully captivated.

“Evil Seeds are almost impervious to death. Wounds inflicted upon them mend with astonishing speed; perhaps only by severing their heads and utterly draining their lifeblood can their existence be truly brought to an end.” The elder bard paused, his gaze sweeping across the hushed faces. “These Evil Seeds are cunning and insidious, and they often travel with their ‘relatives’—mutated humans they nourish, known as Corrupt Seeds.”

“Corrupt Seeds, the vile servants of the Evil Seeds!” the younger bard declared, his fingers dancing across the lute strings.

“Corrupt Seeds are somewhat weaker than their Evil Seed masters, yet their speed and strength are no less terrifying. They, too, are impervious to blade and spear, and they, too, feast upon human flesh and blood. However, unlike the Evil Seeds, they are not truly immortal; many, in fact, are remarkably short-lived.”

The elder bard stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It is whispered that only demigods possess the power to confront these horrors, yet upon this blighted land, demigods have become tragically scarce…”

As the bards’ haunting melody and grim narrative filled the tavern, the adventurers, who moments before had been engrossed in their own chatter, slowly fell silent.

After all, adventurers were, by their very nature, among those most keenly interested in such grim tidings.

Noticing how some of the tavern’s patrons were already trembling with palpable fear, the monster hunter cast a smug, triumphant glance at Rob.

“Hmph, mere sensationalism,” Rob scoffed, crossing his arms and shrugging dismissively. “The last time, someone prattled on about how fearsome trolls were, yet I still wounded and slew one myself. Should these so-called Evil Seeds cross my path, I’d cleave them in two with but a pair of sword strokes.”

“Ha! When an Evil Seed truly manifests before you, I wager you’ll be too terrified to do anything but soil yourself!” the monster hunter retorted with a sneer.

“Hmph, if this creature is truly so potent, have you yourself ever laid eyes upon one, let alone slain it?” Rob challenged.

“I have, of course, dispatched one myself, though its remains have since been delivered to the Church,” the monster hunter declared. “I possess a particular aptitude for dealing with such creatures, unlike you, who must still trail behind your leader, scavenging for mere sustenance.”

“You speak with an audacious tongue. Perhaps we should ascertain whose blade proves swifter…” Rob growled, his hand already moving to draw his sword.

The monster hunter, in turn, reached for the hilt of his own weapon.

A palpable tension seized the air, rendering the atmosphere utterly rigid.

At that critical juncture, Alice swiftly intervened, rushing forward to firmly press down on Rob’s hand, halting his movement. “Rob, please, don’t bring trouble upon our party,” Alice pleaded, tugging gently at his tunic.

The monster hunter’s eyes, previously narrowed in challenge, immediately brightened at Alice’s arrival.

His gaze smoothly shifted from Rob’s indignant face, and he turned, directing his full attention to Alice. “For the sake of this exquisite lady,” the monster hunter began, his voice softening, “I shall allow this impudent whelp to walk away unscathed, provided that…” He leaned closer, openly appraising Alice, “this charming lady consents to share a drink with me.”

“Are you perhaps afraid…” Rob began, but before he could finish, Alice’s hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

“My lord, I shall drink,” Alice replied, forcing a polite smile.

While monster hunters were often regarded as eccentric outcasts, and people generally held them in low esteem, there was no denying their prowess in combat; they were, without question, first-rate fighters.

Furthermore, for an adventurer to issue a challenge of duel to a monster hunter was to forfeit the protection of the kingdom’s laws over their very life.

Should either combatant fall in such a duel, no blame could ever be attributed to the survivor.

Alice raised the offered tankard, draining its contents in a single, swift gulp.

The fiery liquor seared a path straight to Alice’s stomach, and its potency swiftly took hold, leaving her feeling utterly lightheaded and disoriented.

The monster hunter nodded with a satisfied air, about to turn and depart, when the younger bard abruptly seized his arm, halting him.

The younger bard’s grip proved alarmingly strong, holding the hunter fast.

“What in the blazes do you think you’re doing?” the monster hunter demanded, his tone sharp with irritation.

“My lord,” the younger bard stated, a strange glint in his eyes, “you’ve enjoyed our tale, but neglected to offer payment.”

The monster hunter cast a puzzled glance at the elder bard. “I just tossed you several silver coins, did you not see them?” he queried.

“Silver coins will hardly suffice…” A sickly, unsettling smile stretched across the younger bard’s face. He then bared his teeth in a wide, unnatural grin, revealing an unnervingly sharp, jagged row of fangs.

“We are hungry,” he hissed, his voice dropping to a guttural growl, “and we crave human flesh.”