The Old Hunter
Following the old hunter, I make my way across the desolate land. Rough, jagged rocks cover the ground beneath my feet, and the wind blows relentlessly. The old hunter walks slowly, leaning on his staff. His back is hunched, and he looks just like a tree swaying in the wind.
“This area used to be much greener,” the Old Hunter murmurs from time to time, as if reminiscing about the past. “Blessed by the Wind God, the people lived in abundance. But at some point, we incurred the Wind God’s wrath, and the land was left barren.”
I listen to the old hunter’s words while observing my surroundings. Indeed, here and there, I can see traces of what was once green. Weathered, crumbling stone structures and the roots of withered trees tell the story of past prosperity.
“The ancient ruins lie ahead,” the old hunter says, coming to a stop. “But to get there, we must pass through a dangerous place.”
The old hunter’s words fill me with a sense of tension. “What kind of place is this dangerous place?”
“The spirits that once served the Wind God have now transformed into evil beings,” the old hunter says solemnly. “They block the path of those heading toward the Wind God’s sacred site and seek to steal their souls.”
Hearing the old hunter’s words, I steeled myself. “Even so, I will go. I must reach the Wind God’s sacred site and save the City of Winds.”
The old hunter nodded at my resolve. “I understand. In that case, I will guide you. However, you must never let your guard down. You never know when or where they will appear.”
The old hunter began walking again. I followed behind him, taking careful steps. The surrounding landscape grew increasingly desolate. An eerie sound of wind could be heard coming from the crevices between the rocks.
Suddenly, a sharp blade of wind flew at me from behind. I dodged it at the last moment and raised the Lyre of Atlantis.
“Here they come!” The old hunter readies his staff and assumes a battle stance.
Appearing before us is a monstrous spirit shrouded in black wind. Its form is a far cry from the spirits that once served the Wind God. Its eyes are filled with hatred as it glares at us.
“You mortals! You shall not enter the Wind God’s sacred grounds!” the evil spirit growls in a low voice. “Here, I shall take your souls and appease the Wind God’s wrath!”
I play the Harp of Atlantis, releasing a sacred melody. The melody dispels the black wind surrounding the evil spirit, slowing its movements.
“That sound...!” The evil spirit’s face contorts with shock. “You actually possess the Harp of Atlantis...!”
The old hunter also swings his staff, launching an attack at the spirit. However, the evil spirit manipulates the wind to parry the old hunter’s strike.
I continue to play the Harp of Atlantis, trying to calm the evil spirit. However, the spirit’s power is too strong, and my efforts have little effect.
If this continues, the old hunter will be in danger. Holding the harp, I resolve to approach the spirit and launch a direct attack.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
