Chapter XXXII: It's Dragoon Season

Mid-March 1112 VTE, near the City of Venusia.

The "Mountain Corps" had grown restless in the absence of combat against the invaders. Sure, this group of hunters turned irregulars were under no threat from the Dragoons right now in Bellona, but they craved the thrill of the hunt. Not just any hunt, but the hunting of the most dangerous prey of them all, foreign invaders. It was thus decided by their leader, Hyazinth to head out for a hunting trip towards the rich spot known as the City of Venusia. The 250 marksmen finally would reach their grounds in Mid-March and dispersed into groups of 10.

Hyazinth and his group would be the first to catch their prey. A patrol of 16 Dragoons was marching along a road near a forested cliffside on a wet March morning. This was something that these men did nearly every day and had grown accustomed to this nice stroll. Little did any of them know that this would be the last patrol and indeed, the last minutes of their lives. Hyazinth and his men hid behind the rocks and fallen trees, waiting for the right moment to catch them. Hyazinth himself would be the first one to fire, striking the sergeant leading the patrol right in the heart. He was soon followed by 9 more shots that all hit their targets, either immobilizing or killing the men.

Startled by what just happened, the Dragoons began to look in all directs for the fire, and then firing at anything they thought might be an enemy. As they fired again and were still reloading, Hyazinth and his men had crawl up within 20 feet of them wielding knives and boar spears. With a loud shout, the hunters burst from the treeline and before the Dragoons knew multiple men were on each one of them. They stood absolutely no chance, and wear stabbed methodically in their hearts and necks as would be the fate of any wild animal. The wounded were soon dispatched to with equal efficiency before Hyazinth order the bloody work of "gutting" their prey would begin.

All 16 of the corpses were gutted like an animal and scalped. Hyazinth took a cup and drank from the blood of the dead Seargent, as was custom for all Rosenknospe hunters after they killed their prey. His men joined him in this custom and after it was quickly finished fell back into the woods, their lust having been satisfied.

Hours later when another patrol came looking for these missing men, they were greeted with the horrible sight of their comrades; gutted and scalped like wild animals on the roadside. They turned pale at the gruesome scene and began to dig graves for their friends. The tale of this patrol quickly made it back to the rest of the army, but this was not going to be the last time patrols would be cut down like this by the Mountain Corps. Indeed, this would be repeated multiple times every day, and would strike great fear into the Dragoonian Army. Many would refuse to go on these patrols anymore and existing patrols would be increased in size.

It was Dragoon Season, indeed.