Start of Part 1

  Somewhere in the World Tree, Yig ran. He sped through the forest, feet crunching on leaves, hand gripping the hilt of his blade. The crowd of hunters behind him continued to shout, but he—a Hero—couldn’t let that scare him. The great Heroes he’d read about in his novels wouldn’t crumble under such pressure.

  A bandage was wrapped around his right forearm because his mother said that arm was weak. But Yig had always felt she underestimated it, for it held a mighty swing.

  The boar was in sight. He drew his sword. The boar roared in defiance, ready to charge. Only one of them would walk away that day. Yig slashed across its stomach. The beast collapsed. It had been defeated.

  Jordan, a hulking specimen of a man, skidded to a stop next to the boar, his momentum nearly toppling him. But he was far too skilled to fall. He gave Yig a look—it seemed serious.

  “Was that the Great-Boar?” Yig asked.

  “No,” Jordan replied, his voice a deep hum. “That was a regular boar.”

  Yig nearly stumbled as he was shoved from behind. Shack started yelling at him about something ridiculous.

  “You light-headed idiot! You killed it before we even had a chance!”

  The rest of the hunters backed Shack up, shouting in protest of Yig’s victory. Shack was as small as Yig, yet twice as angry. A mop of red hair shook on his head as his mouth wobbled with complaints.

  “All the attention has to be on you!” Shack continued. “You’re trying to make us look like amateurs—even though you’re the new man on the team. And if there’s any mercy in the world, you’ll be the first one to leave.”

  “That’s enough,” Fynn said. “There’s no need for that.” Fynn was taller than them both, with a narrow jawline and a voice that was always soft.

  “Oh yeah?” Shack snapped, rising on his heels to get in Fynn’s face. “Tell me, are you the leader?”

  Jordan—the real leader—loomed behind Fynn, towering above everyone. One glare was all it took to shut Shack up.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Mona was not pleased by the news. She had been worrying about him for weeks, and now her worst fears had a chance of coming true. So she left her lessons and strode down the streets of Chestnut Town, determined to find out what in the world had gone wrong.

  She spotted a crowd of Hunters marching through town, with Yig trailing a few steps behind. Despite his shorter stature, his blond hair was easy to spot. As messy as it was, it still retained its bright yellow hue. Mona’s hair was just the opposite—deep black, tidy, and well-kept, as her father requested. Except for the tiny braids she wove during lessons—more out of boredom than style.

  “What happened?” she called out to Yig.

  He looked annoyed. “I’m too amazing… I think.” How typical of him to say something so silly—and overdramatic.

  Jordan, in his deep tone, replied, “Multiple complaints have been made about Yig’s actions today during our hunt.” Mona still found herself surprised by his height. It surprised most that such a broadly built, bearded warrior of a man was still in his early twenties.

  “Your buddy here is finally going to have some sense knocked into him,” Shack said, stomping across the path. “Time he figured out the world isn’t all about him.”

  “Hasn’t worked before,” Mona remarked, walking beside Yig.

  “Well,” Shack continued, “let’s see what your father has to say about that.”

  The Hunters led Yig up and through the wooden hallways, murmuring hopes for a trial, until they finally arrived at the Mayor’s office. Inside was a neat, square wooden room, decorated with all sorts of office-like things—paintings, plants, and the like.

  “What in the world is so urgent that it couldn’t wait?” the Mayor asked, fingers massaging his temple.

  “We need Yig kicked out!” Shack shouted, earning a cheer from his audience. “Maybe you need him to work, but make him someone else’s problem. We are the Hunters! The strongest in—”

  “All right, all right,” the Mayor groaned. “Calm down, children. Just… tell me what he did.” The Mayor wasn’t that old, yet his face carried a lifetime of stress. Wrinkles framed his brown eyes, and his bushy brows could almost hide them when his head tilted. Yet, he had little hair left on his scalp.

  “Yig killed our hunt before it even started!” Shack barked.

  “I thought it was the Great Boar,” Yig replied, unamused.

  Shack’s face scrunched up. “What difference does it make!? Either way, you have no regard for the rest of us!”

  “Sir,” Mona spoke up. “Why should Yig be punished for hurting their egos? They act like it’s a crime to do your job well!”

  “Shut it, Mona!” Shack snapped. “You have nothing to do with this!”

  “Agreed, Mona,” the Mayor said. “At the end of the day, this is Hunter business.”

  Shack gave a smug grin.

  Yig knew Mona could be a Hunter if she wanted to. She was far stronger than most. But her days were filled with lectures and lessons, preparing her to become the next Mayor—even if that was never going to happen.

  “Jordan,” the Mayor said, “what’s your opinion on this?”

  Yig winced. Of course the decision would fall to the Hunters’ leader.

  “In my opinion,” Jordan said, “for the good of all the Hunters, I recommend Yig leave his position.”

  There was a collective breath of relief as the Hunters murmured their gratitude. Mona seemed less pleased—perhaps even angry.

  “Well, there we go then,” the Mayor said. “Yig shall be given another role to play in Chestnut Town. Now, is there anything else you—”

  “May I suggest,” Moan spoke up. “That Yig be given a task… to solidify his place in the Hunters?”

  A roar of dispute filled the room, the hunters once again crying that Mona had no place in this conversation.

  The Mayor raised his hands, gesturing for the volume to come back down. “Quiet! You lot have yelled enough for the whole week.”

  Shack and the other Hunters reluctantly hushed, crossing their arms and grinding their teeth in annoyance.

  “Jordan?” The Mayor asked, looking to the Hunter’s Leader.

  “I accept the proposition,” Jordan replied.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Yig and Mona prepared for their battle at the bottom of one of Chestnut’s great mountains. The surface was rocky, but with plenty of patches of dirt and grass to tread on. The trees swayed in the wind as they belted their clothing to them, a mix of woollen garb with patches of leather.

  To his waist, Yig tied an old blade, passed from hunter to hunter whenever it was needed. A community sword. One that was borrowed then discarded, ready for the next person. He was disappointed not to get a newer one, but decided to think of it more so as assurance, for the weapon in his hand at survived many years of use.

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  Mona straitened the leather collar of her vest, then pulled on her boots to make sure her feet where snug. Two scabbards hung from her belt, holding the twin swords her father had gifted her. Seeing them always got Yig pumped up, excited to earn his own magnificent weapon.

  The sky was blue, clouds circling above them. Mona took a breath, perhaps annoyed. Yig hoped not.

  The task was simple. Yig, with the help of Mona, was to climb to the top of the mountain; meanwhile, every other Hunter of Chestnut was responsible for making sure Yig was unable to do so. He had till the sky turned dark. It was a tall ask, one the great Hero Darleth would surly relish in. Yig couldn’t help but smile.

  “You don’t have to come,” Yig said. He’d been sure to let Mona know at least ten times leading up to this, and she’d answered the same everytime.

  “I told you, I could do with the practice.” She smiled.

  Weather she was telling the truth or not, Yig could not disagree. If they were to leave Chesnut to become Heroes, then a challenge like the one in front of them had to be nothing more than a breeze.

  “Let’s go!” She said.

  Yig nodded, and they were off, charging up the mountain, eyes fixed to the goal. Immediately, two hunters jumped from higher up the mountain, wielding a axe and spear respectively, over their heads. Mona drew her two blades, and weapons clashed. The Hunter’s attacked wildly, with cries of passion accompanying each brutal swing.

  Mona was quick and precise with her twin swords. The rules had dictated each fighter who volunteered to participate must acknowledge the risk of wounds. But of course, nobody wanted to hurt anyone. Although… with the way the two Hunter’s in front of him were looking, Yig wasn’t so sure.

  “Fight us!” They yelled. “Or are you going to let her do all the dirty work.”

  Yig grinned. Perhpas it would have been a better idea to charge past them while Mona held them back for him. But… they had just asked for it.

  He leaped, soaring up the steep hill like a bird gliding feet from the ground. He swung in a powerful half arch, striking both opponents. The force pushed them back, falling to the dirt and rocks.

  “Come on then,” Yig said, bouncing up the mountain path.

  Mona nodded, ginning, and followed.

  Opponents had been strategically placed along the path. After knocking down the first few, something became clear to Yig: he and his partner were no match for the Chestnut Hunters.

  While the Hunters did act as a defense force for the town, their true expertise lay in slaying beasts. Yig and Mona, on the other hand, were training to defeat great villainy on their grand adventure. In hand-to-hand combat, this challenge should’ve been simple—until Yig spotted Fynn.

  “Happy to see me?” Fynn asked with a grin, standing atop a higher hill, a dagger in each hand.

  Despite his worry, Yig had to admit—it was good to see a friend. Fynn had often trained with Yig when Mona was tied up in lessons, serving as a sparring partner. Of all the Hunters, he was perhaps the most formidable, aside from Jordan.

  Mona held off two other Hunters, deflecting each blow with her twin blades. She gave Yig a nod—a silent promise that she had his back. Encouraged, Yig climbed the rocky terrain and met Fynn at the top.

  Yig wasted no time on small talk. The moment his foot landed, he swung his worn blade, forcing Fynn backward. The early aggression worked—at first. Fynn skipped away from the attacks, dancing out of reach. But the tide turned in an instant.

  Yig swung too hard. He realized his mistake the moment it left his hand—but he couldn’t stop it. The momentum pulled his sword behind him, overbalancing him forward. Fynn, quick and tall, delivered a sharp kick to Yig’s face, knocking him to the ground.

  It was a struggle, that much was certain. Fynn was taller, older, stronger... but Yig was faster.

  He sprang from the grass, blade low at his side, and slashed again. Fynn leapt back. Yig followed with a twist, coiling his arm for another strike. Fynn dodged—barely—then stumbled, landing hard on his back. Yig landed atop him, blade-tip at Fynn’s throat. It didn’t pierce the skin, but it was close enough to settle the match.

  “A fair play,” Fynn said, smiling even in defeat.

  “Yig!” Mona’s voice called from further down the slope.

  A rock crashed down, missing Yig and Fynn by inches. Yig snapped his head up and saw a shorter man standing on the ridge above.

  “You’re going to learn a valuable lesson today, Yig!” Shack shouted, shoving another rock over the ledge. “Don’t mess with a warrior’s pride!”

  Yig and Fynn helped each other up and dashed aside to dodge the next tumbling boulder.

  Fynn stepped away. He’d been bested, and so, by his own honor, was out of the fight. Yig appreciated the gesture—but he knew not every Hunter would show the same grace.

  “You? Warrior’s pride?” Yig shouted back up the hill. “What pride makes you let old rocks fight your battles for you?”

  Shack’s brow twisted, face contorted with rage. He grabbed a hand axe and stormed down the slope, nearly tripping twice. Yig braced for the clash.

  But Mona met Shack’s charge, parrying his swing with a graceful twin-sword maneuver. One blade knocked his axe aside; the other stopped cold at his chest.

  “Go!” Mona ordered.

  Yig obeyed.

  Shack, as stubborn as ever, kept fighting despite his clear defeat—desperate to catch Yig. Unfortunately for him, he was nowhere near equipped to counter Mona’s technique.

  Atop the mountain, Yig found Jordan. He was seated, legs crossed, with a war hammer resting beside him. The wind rustled through the few trees scattered across the peak. Jordan opened his eyes and sighed.

  He stood—an imposing figure whose build put most of the town’s men to shame. His hammer, with a concrete head the size of a small crate, should have been nearly impossible to lift. But for Jordan, it was a minor burden. He rested it on his shoulder and stared Yig down, as he often did. Yig understood the challenge in his eyes and didn’t keep him waiting.

  Yig charged forward—only to be stopped by a thunderous crash. Jordan’s hammer struck like a bolt from the heavens, shattering the earth where it landed. The speed of the swing caught Yig off guard.

  Rattled, Yig switched tactics. He circled the Hunter Captain, darting in random directions, hoping to stay out of the hammer’s path. Jordan quickly adjusted, spinning the weapon around himself to block any approach.

  Discouraged, Yig pulled back to create some space. A mistake. Jordan advanced, closing the distance with deceptive speed. It didn’t seem possible the giant could reach him—but as the hammer came down, its velocity was just as terrifying as its impact.

  Yig ducked just in time. The hammer missed by inches and crashed through the trunk of a tree, sending bark flying and toppling it over. Yig tumbled across the grass, breath ragged, adrenaline pumping. Either Jordan trusted him enough to dodge—or the Hunter really was trying to kill him.

  Then came a cry. It echoed across the mountain peak, freezing both fighters. Their heads snapped toward the sound. What emerged wasn’t a person—and wasn’t something they could easily comprehend.

  Climbing the slope and stepping onto the summit with a furious snort, the Great-Boar revealed itself.

  It was twice the size of a normal boar, covered in tough orange fur, with two tusks sharp and long enough to impale a man. Its eyes were black and focused, seething with menace. The roar that followed shook the very ground beneath them.

  “Get back!” Jordan shouted, stepping in front of Yig, hammer raised.

  The Great-Boar charged, its breath huffing like smoke. Jordan caught it by the tusks, holding firm enough to be pushed back only a few feet. He struggled to grapple the beast, but it proved stronger. With a sudden lift of its head, the Boar hurled him across the summit and charged again.

  Jordan dodged, but one tusk clipped his shoulder, drawing blood. The Boar spun fast, knocking him down again. Then it clamped its jaws around his ankle and swung him like a ragdoll, slamming him into the dirt until he broke free and tumbled across the grass—into Yig’s arms.

  “Run,” Jordan said, straining to speak.

  Mona appeared behind Yig—surprised, but calm.

  “That’s the Boar you were after?” she asked.

  Yig nodded. “Unless there’s a bigger one,” he quipped.

  The Boar roared again, the sound as loud as thunder.

  “I’ll take the front,” Mona said, then dashed forward.

  Jordan reached out in protest, but Yig followed without hesitation. A man was in need of saving—and a great villain needed slaying. This was a job for a hero.

  Mona met the beast head-on, her twin blades crossed in front of her. She caught it by the tusks. Its rage didn’t falter—and it didn’t like being matched. It would knock her down soon.

  Of course, they both knew that.

  Yig leapt over his partner and landed on the beast’s back, driving his blade deep. As the creature staggered, he dragged the weapon along its spine, tearing open a wound.

  As the boar roared, Mona stepped forward and slashed across its side, drawing a fresh gash—just as Yig darted behind it and did the same to the other. The beast spun wildly, unable to track them both as they struck in tandem.

  Then something shifted.

  It reached a threshold. Its fury surged beyond anything they'd seen. Though weakened by wounds, its rampage grew more brutal—unstoppable. Yig and Mona backed off, unable to get close again.

  Jordan approached then, hammer low. The Great-Boar saw him. In its final, frenzied state, it might still have flattened them all—town and warriors alike—in one last act of vengeance.

  With a swift upward swing, Jordan smashed his hammer into the beast’s chin. The blow snapped its head back and sent teeth flying.

  The Great-Boar collapsed, its massive body finally still.

  Jordan dropped to his knees, bracing himself against the handle of his war hammer. Yig and Mona approached, eyes scanning the fallen monster.

  “Teamwork,” Yig said, smiling. “Right?”

  Mona gave a small nod and returned the smile.

  Shack and a group of Hunters arrived at the summit, awestruck by the size of the slain beast.

  “You...!” Shack shouted, pointing at Yig. “You better thank our captain! Without him, you’d both be—!”

  “Enough!” Jordan cut in, breathless.

  “But—”

  “I said enough!” Jordan roared, glaring stone-faced. “Yig has completed his challenge. He may rejoin the Hunters.”

  “No thanks,” Yig replied.

  “What...?” Jordan blinked.

  “You ungrateful little twit!” Shack yelled. “How dare you disrespect us!”

  “Good grief, man!” Yig shouted across the peak. “Do you want me in your club or not?!”

  “Definitely not!”

  The other Hunters roared in agreement.

  “But... why?” Jordan asked.

  Mona just shook her head with a grin. “Honestly, haven’t you lot learned anything from being around him?”

  Yig drew in a deep breath, then screamed so loudly the mountains echoed his voice:

  “ME AND MONA ARE GOING TO BE THE GREATEST HEROES TO HAVE EVER, EVER LIVED—AND OPEN THE GATES TO PARADISE!!!”