Atropos arrived as Geoffrey and I waited, her usual stoic demeanor in place as she assessed us with a neutral glance. “I understand I’m to play mediator?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded, hoping her composure would keep this absurd game grounded. “Yes, we need someone trustworthy for the exchange.”
Atropos folded her arms, coolly eyeing Geoffrey. “And my compensation?”
Geoffrey let out a sigh, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the semi-finished Maker artifact he’d won from the fifth stage. “Here,” he said, handing the jade bracelet to her with a hint of reluctance. “Take this.”
I watched him hand it over, amused. "Seems you have a conscience after all," I remarked with a smirk.
He scowled at me, and I just grinned wider.
“Let’s get this done,” Atropos said, taking the artifact with a brief nod of satisfaction. I scrawled my guess on a slip of paper, folded it tightly, and handed it to her. She slipped it into a small metal box she seemed to have on hand, clicking the lid shut.
“Your turn,” she said, looking at Geoffrey.
With a calm expression, he scribbled down his own answer and passed it to her. Atropos added his note to the box, shut it firmly, and locked it.
“There,” she said, holding the sealed box with an air of authority. “You’ll find out who wins once the next exam is over.”
Geoffrey shot me a quick, challenging grin. "Looking forward to it."
I met his gaze without a flinch. “Let’s see if you’re as clever as you think.”
Atropos simply nodded, pocketing the box with an unreadable expression.
The days following our wager with Geoffrey passed in a steady rhythm, almost like a reprieve from the usual chaos. I finally made it back to my quarters that night, the quietness welcoming after the day’s antics. Between training sessions, I explored the airship’s amenities, meeting other hunters, and occasionally seeking out potential clients, trying to subtly expand my clientele. This world had its own network of power brokers and fixers, and it was always wise to plant seeds early.
By the ninth day since it all started, the exam finally concluded. As tradition seemed to dictate, all hunters who passed were gathered in the grand ballroom for a celebration. The air was buzzing with the energy of relieved hunters, each one glad to have another grueling stage behind them.
“Hey, Reynard!” A familiar voice caught my attention, and I turned just in time for Selena to punch my shoulder with a mock scowl. “I’m still sore about that little transformation prank, you know.”
I just laughed right in her face, amused at her lingering frustration. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it looked like she’d actually let her temper loose, but she reined it in with an exasperated sigh. Before I could say anything else, she noticed Shen walking into the ballroom, and, with a flash of panic in her eyes, she bolted.
I chuckled to myself as I scanned the rest of the room. Black was slumped in a corner, looking unusually gloomy and a bit pale as he kept his gaze firmly on the floor, likely still struggling with his fear of heights, especially with the transparent ceiling overhead. Meanwhile, Dummy was at the buffet table, eating like a man possessed, practically inhaling every dish in sight.
And then there was Geoffrey, absolutely annihilating the clams, with piles of shells forming a small mountain by his plate.
Each of us had our quirks, I supposed.
Chairman Bob finally made his entrance, looking slightly more dignified than his usual self. He still wore that ridiculous red cape and was as bald as ever, but at least he’d made an attempt to look the part this time by donning a suit. Though no one here expected strict formalities—most hunters wore their rugged, battle-ready gear, while a few, like myself, opted for attire that could walk the line between formal and functional.
Bob clinked his glass with a flick of his finger, sending a clear, ringing chime across the room that instantly captured everyone’s attention. He raised his glass high, his voice booming over the crowd.
“Congratulations, hunters, on your victory!” he announced with a broad grin on his face. “Now, onto the next test: it will be Caster-inspired!” His grin widened as he scanned the room as if savoring the suspense. “The next stage will be a race, filled with Caster obstacles for you to overcome along the way. And of course, feel free to make your preparations accordingly. But for now?”
He lifted his glass even higher, eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “Now…we party!”
The room erupted into applause and cheers. While a collective sigh of relief settled over the hunters, I knew that many of them were already thinking about the upcoming challenge—a Caster-inspired race meant one thing: traps, spells, and more than a few surprises. This night might be the last time to relax before facing whatever twisted “obstacles” the Hunters Association had in store.
It looked like this party was about to get even more interesting.
The chairman’s early reveal of the next exam’s theme was a rare move—it practically invited us to strategize and prepare, a luxury we didn’t usually have. The Caster-inspired race, with its magical obstacles and likely plenty of Caster ingenuity, would demand every bit of cunning and adaptability we could muster. Already, I noticed a few hunters slipping from the venue, clearly intent on getting a head start on their plans, some no doubt gathering intel or sharpening their skills for whatever the course would throw at us.
As I scanned the room, my gaze landed on Geoffrey. He was watching me with that self-satisfied smirk, practically oozing with the assumption he’d won our bet. I didn’t bother giving him the satisfaction of a reaction, though—I had no intention of letting him think he’d outplayed me.
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Instead, I resolved to enjoy the night. The ballroom pulsed with life, laughter, and the rare sense of camaraderie in the air. Moments like these—between the pressure of exams and the constant gamble of hunter life—were few and far between. Tonight, I was here to enjoy it all.
Still—
As much as I wanted to revel in the evening’s celebration, the next exam kept my thoughts in check. A Caster-inspired race, filled with magical obstacles and traps, was bound to be chaotic and, no doubt, a hassle for someone with my skill set. I might not shine as brightly as I had in previous rounds, but I knew I had enough tricks up my sleeve to grind out a victory. However, one thing was clear: there was no room for complacency. Enjoying the win was one thing, but banking on it for the future was quite another.
With that thought, I made my way over to Black. His fear of heights wasn’t born of personal trauma—it was part of the steep price he paid for enslaving devils. For every devil he captured, he inherited a new negative trait, and with his Shadow Devil came this irrational fear of heights. As I approached, I pulled out the pendant he’d lost to Joe. Handing it to him, I asked, “Take me along in the race tomorrow.”
He looked up, meeting my gaze, and I saw him gathering his resolve, despite his unease. “I’ll do my best,” he replied with a flicker of determination in his eyes.
With Black’s support, I felt a renewed confidence. The upcoming challenge was no less daunting, but knowing I’d have him by my side was reassuring.
I mulled over Black’s promise of cooperation. Sure, he’d agreed to an alliance from the start, but it had always been based on mutual advantage. The moment I became dead weight, he could very well cut me loose without a second thought. Trust was a rare commodity here, and pragmatism was the rule of the day.
As I pondered, Selena strolled over and offered. I blinked, caught off guard by her offer. "What's your strategy?" I asked, curious. Black’s mode of transport was already solid, so I needed to know what she had up her sleeve.
She grinned and pulled out a keychain—a compacted motorbike, one designed for speed above all. I appreciated her offer, but after a moment’s thought, I declined. While her bike was fast, it leaned toward the fragile side. With me as an added burden, it’d slow her down and put us both at greater risk. Black’s transportation had the edge on safety, and in a race where the danger would be dialed up to eleven, that was no small factor.
Selena, ever the attentive bodyguard, pressed on. "What's the plan, then?"
I told her to follow her instincts but prioritize her own safety. If this race turned out to be as brutal as I anticipated, my greatest challenge yet, I didn’t want her to hold back on my account.
As the evening festivities wound down, I mingled with the hunters, leaving faint traces of my Soul Link on each one. A friendly conversation here, a casual clap on the shoulder there—it was subtle enough that no one would suspect a thing. When the night was over and everyone retired to their quarters, I began my real work.
Silently, I slipped through the dim corridors of the airship, connecting with each strand of Soul Link I’d set up. I equalized their aura levels, siphoning just enough from each of them to fuel my own. With Selena’s disguise attribute cloaking my movements, the others were blissfully unaware of the depletion. Back in my room, I poured their aura into my coin, channeling it with precision, forging it into a proper artifact—a tool for divination, powerful and finely attuned. As the final remnants of aura settled into it, I cut off each Soul Link, returning the drained essence so that no trace would remain.
Just then, a faint commotion erupted in the hall. I smirked; they’d realize the next morning just how much they’d been sapped. They wouldn’t be in peak form for the test—a crucial edge for me. Aura debts were a son of a bitch.
Settling down, I made a quick call to my wife, and we shared a few lighthearted words before saying goodnight. Content with the day's work, I drifted off to sleep, already anticipating tomorrow’s challenge.
As dawn broke, I joined the hunters gathering on the deck, where a crisp tension hovered in the air, mixing with the thin chill at this altitude. We stood together, watching the sunrise as the airship climbed steadily higher, lifting us into the heart of the morning sky. The towering figure of Chairman Bob waiting near the crow's nest had an amused glint in his eye. Nearby, for the first time, Joe took the wheel. The ship had mostly been on autopilot until now, so the sight of Joe in command was a rare one, drawing murmurs of curiosity from the others.
We rose above the clouds. The light softened, reflecting in pale waves across the vast, pillowy expanse. The air was thin, but it was manageable for hunters. Then, to our left, a structure emerged—the Fighting Tower. Dark and foreboding, its silhouette was jagged and steep, reaching up like a cruel beacon among the clouds.
Bob’s voice rang out, clear and sharp: “Hunters, behold the Fighting Tower! The rules are simple: Race. Race with your life on the line! The finish line is within the gates at the base of the Fighting Tower! And a word of caution…” He glanced at the eager faces, his smile widening. “It’s quite high up here. Hopefully, you all have the means for a safe descent!”
A shiver ran through the crowd. Each hunter was tense, glancing between the edge of the ship and the distant tower, their minds whirring as they weighed options and strategies. “On the count of three, the race shall start!” Bob called out, his voice blending into the wind as everyone edged closer, some adjusting gear, others casting quick glances at their rivals.
Bob’s slow, deliberate count was agonizing, stretching each second to pull us deeper into the suspense. Every "One...," "Two...," echoed in the thin, open air, pushing anticipation higher, and as the final "Three!" thundered from his lips, chaos erupted. Without missing a beat, I grabbed Black, yanking him forward. His face had turned pale, eyes glued to the sky's vast, open stretch, the height leaving him stiff with dread—but I was ready for that. After all, he had me to drag him down into the race.
Selena called out just as she soared past us, gripping a massive kite that billowed open, catching the wind with ease. She’d prepared for this perfectly. “Come on!” she shouted, maneuvering closer. With quick reflexes, I latched my Soul Chain to her kite, feeling its energy pulse as it wrapped securely. Selena glanced back, her eyes gleaming with determination as she skillfully balanced the massive kite to support both of us, guiding it smoothly through the open descent.
Others weren’t so lucky, though. A few hunters were malicious, targeting us as they tried to force us off balance mid-air. But I’d planned ahead for just this scenario. As they neared, I snapped the Soul Marks I’d carefully left on their clothes the night before at the party. In an instant, my Soul Chains shot out from each mark, snaking around any hunter who dared come within reach.
My chains encircled them, freezing their movements mid-air. They struggled, panicked, but the Soul Chain had them locked in place, only loosening when I was far enough past that they had no hope of catching us again. My conscience remained clean; the rules were simple—race with your life on the line.
So if they fell to their deaths, it wasn’t my fault.
As we hit the ground, Black wasted no time, transforming his shadow into a beastly, dark horse. Its form was eerie yet powerful, like a creature of myth born from darkness itself. I gripped his waist tightly as the horse surged forward, accelerating with surprising force. The landscape around us blurred, dust and grit kicked up in our wake as we pushed ahead, breaking into the lead.
Just then, Selena zoomed past us on her motorbike, sleek and nimble, a blur of motion. “I’ll scout ahead!” she called, her voice whipping back in the rush of air. She tossed something back at me just before she vanished down the trail—a small, familiar object. An earpiece. I popped it into my ear, immediately hearing her steady breaths through the comms.
“Look at you, going all out!” I teased her with a grin spreading as I leaned closer to the earpiece. She paused for a beat, then replied in her usual matter-of-fact tone, “Well, someone has to make sure you don’t fail this exam after coming this far.”
Her straightforwardness had me laughing.
“Let’s win this race.”