6. Hunting Palismen ⇒ «ORIGINAL»

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 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. 6. Hunting Palismen

The morning fog over the Boiling Isles was thick and acidic, but not thick enough to hide the sharp, agonizing glare from the Emperor’s Coven scouts patrolling the Glandus market. Hunter—the Golden Guard, the youngest prodigy, and the most exhausted person on the Isles—adjusted his mask, trying to ignore the constant, icy pressure in his chest. Today was not a day for training; it was a day for "harvesting." Belos needed palismen

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