Taming The Villainesses novel Chapter 428

“We’re almost there. But from here on, you’d best stay on high alert.”

The hunter spoke in his low, grim voice.

I’d thought it before—his voice always carried an unpleasant quality, like someone dragging a nail across glass at the bottom of hell.

And his appearance was no less unsettling. Exceptionally tall. But instead of being heavily muscled, he was built lean and long, like something shaped for minimal air resistance.

His wiry frame made him look exactly like a mantis. Especially when he drew his twin daggers at his waist and fought monsters—it was unmistakable.

Shff.

That was when Mirna poked me in the side with her finger.

“Lord Teo, what have you been sneaking glances at this whole time?”

Had she caught the direction of my gaze? I quickly reined in my stare. I mumbled something like, “It’s nothing,” to brush it off.

But I was distracted.

It was because of what Stella had whispered to me earlier—quiet enough that no one else could hear.

—That man... I feel like I know him. Just a feeling, but it’s strong.

Of course, even Stella hadn’t been certain enough to say it aloud. But I knew exactly what she was getting at.

‘Could the hunter be Isaiah Gospel?’

That seemed to be the conclusion Stella was tiptoeing toward. It wasn’t something I had even considered until now, but Stella’s instincts were sharp.

So sharp she could practically identify people by the rhythm of their heartbeat. She didn’t say things lightly.

Could the hunter really be that Isaiah?

Like I said, it hadn’t even crossed my mind before. But now that the idea had taken root, everything about him began to feel suspicious.

He’d mentioned once that he had a child and a wife in the past.

And there was his age—if Isaiah had survived all this time, he’d be in his mid to late forties.

It wouldn’t be strange for his hair to have turned white, especially if he’d suffered through a lot.

His eerie strength as a villain-hunter also caught my attention.

Isaiah, after all, was once the perfect duplicate of the Demon King Solomon. In a way, you could say he was both son and twin. If anyone could be that strong, it would be him.

But then... why hadn’t he recognized Stella? Was he pretending not to? Why hadn’t he said anything to me either?

My questions piled up. And along with them, possible explanations surfaced—like “He must have his reasons.”

Still, it could all be confirmation bias.

The theory that the hunter is Isaiah Gospel might just be wishful thinking, forcing facts to fit the narrative.

—If I could just see his face, I’d know for sure. I still remember Senior Isaiah’s face clearly.

As Stella had said, the surest way to confirm it would be to see his face. But the man’s face was tightly wrapped in bandages, leaving no room for confirmation.

Could I somehow get him to remove them? That old fable came to mind—the one where the West Wind and the Sun competed to make a traveler remove his coat. Maybe I understood how they felt now.

If only I could get a glimpse of his face.

I sidled up to Miriam, who was walking nearby. She looked at me with immediate suspicion.

“Sorry, but you’re not my type. I’m tall, and I like guys taller than me.”

...What? I got rejected before I even confessed? I hadn’t approached her with that in mind at all. It reminded me of the kind of person who assumes anyone who talks to them must be interested romantically.

Was Miriam one of those?

I was caught off guard, embarrassed, and a little annoyed. But I didn’t show it.

“I wasn’t trying to hit on you. I just wanted to ask something about the hunter.”

“Ohh, so you’re just trying to change the subject to keep the conversation going, huh? I like the persistence.”

...Nope. This woman was impossible to talk to. I’d thought she’d be more reasonable than Rene, but clearly I miscalculated.

So I backed away from her and moved toward the warrior Rene instead.

“Excuse me—can I ask you something about the man you call the hunter?”

“What is it?”

Her tone was curt, but I knew that was just how she was. I asked casually,

“Have you ever seen him without those bandages? His real face, I mean.”

“His real face, huh... Now that you mention it, I don’t think I have. But does it matter? With hunters, skill’s what counts. What you hunt matters more than what you look like.”

Unexpected answer—but telling.

Even someone who had spent considerable time with him had never seen his face. That meant the chance of anyone seeing it was slim.

I was almost ready to give up...

***

It was just around the time we were finally approaching what the hunter had described as the “exit” of this bizarre cave.

Just as he’d warned, strange monsters began appearing all around us.

They were glowing, fluorescent clumps of slime—

SSSSSSHHHHHH.

—so acidic that just brushing against them melted the tip of Mirna’s sword.

“Acidic Wildlings. Be careful not to touch them.”

The hunter gave his warning as he loaded a bolt into the crossbow mounted on his arm. With acid that strong, a mere burn would be the least of our worries.