L
My next match was against a speedster—a fighter just a fraction faster than Gerry, but faster nonetheless. She was formidable, no doubt about it. Without my Marionette, I’d have been pulverized.
The moment I saw her, a flicker of recognition crossed my mind. She was the same girl who had outrun Black and me during the seventh stage of the exam. I still remembered her smug taunts as she zipped past us, leaving nothing but dust and irritation in her wake. And now, she stood in front of me, ready to fight.
She was a Fighter-type with an impressive speed attribute. Her attacks weren’t just fast; they were precise and powerful. Every blow she landed on my doll reverberated with enough force to remind me that, had it been me in the Marionette’s place, I’d have been left bruised and broken.
The fight played out like a relentless game of cat and mouse. She darted around the arena, striking with pinpoint accuracy, while my doll took the brunt of her attacks. Marionette, sturdy and resilient, countered where it could, though it wasn’t nearly quick enough to keep up with her raw speed.
It became a contest between her agility and my doll’s durability. She’d hit, my doll would retaliate and miss; she’d weave around, and my doll would anticipate her movements, occasionally landing a glancing blow. The cycle continued, back and forth.
But my Marionette had two key advantages: stamina and the subtle siphoning of her aura with every command I issued. While she burned through her reserves in a desperate bid to overwhelm me, I kept replenishing mine. Slowly but surely, the balance began to shift.
Her speed began to falter. Exhaustion crept into her movements—imperceptible to most, but clear as day to me. My doll’s counters began landing more frequently, its resilience outlasting her fraying endurance.
Finally, she crumpled under the weight of her own exertion, unable to maintain the relentless pace she’d set for herself. My Marionette stood victorious, its unwavering stamina and resilience carrying it through.
The third match arrived the following day, and with plenty of rest, I felt more prepared. My opponent this time was a massive, bodybuilder-looking guy who exuded confidence—or maybe arrogance—in his defenses.
He stood there like an immovable wall, letting my doll strike him repeatedly as if to prove his invincibility. At first, I thought he was just a particularly stubborn Fighter, his aura robust and his physique absurdly tough. But as the fight wore on, his true nature became clear.
The first clue came when the damage he’d taken seemed to transform into something else—a sudden boost in power. That’s when I realized he was a Dealer. His ability allowed him to accumulate damage and convert it into energy, enhancing his strength, speed, and durability.
As the fight reached its climax, he became a near-unstoppable force. His aura replenished almost endlessly, his wounds closed faster than I could inflict them, and his strikes carried overwhelming power. For a moment, it felt like a stalemate—his healing and resilience were too much for my doll alone.
But I wasn’t about to give in.
The key was leveraging the synergy between me and my Marionette. I turned the fight into a two-versus-one affair, forcing him to defend against an invisible attacker—me—while my doll pressed its relentless assault. Every time he retaliated against one of us, the other struck.
Then came the turning point. Using Soul Chains, I tethered him to a fixed aura value, equalizing it between him, my doll, and myself. His regenerative abilities were rendered less effective as the constant aura siphoning redistributed his reserves. Combined with my doll’s unyielding strikes, he was forced onto the defensive.
From there, it didn’t take long. His overconfidence faltered, his movements slowed, and with one final coordinated strike—a chain-enhanced blow from me and a devastating punch from the doll—he crumbled.
Victory was mine, but it hadn’t come easily. This fight reminded me of the importance of adapting and exploiting every edge my abilities could give me.
As I prepared for my fourth match, the realization hit me: so far, I’d been cutting through my opponents with relative ease. Sure, they were challenging, but they’d been well within the range of my calculations. Every fight had left little room for surprises, as if the odds had always been stacked slightly in my favor.
That was about to change.
The final 16 were a different beast. These were the strongest competitors left standing, and I couldn’t afford to rely on simple tricks like hiding with invisibility while my doll did the heavy lifting. From here on, I’d have to adjust, adapt, and face them head-on.
Adding to the challenge, the matches from this point forward would be broadcast—not just on the dark net and the hunter net, but even to select mundane viewers. It was a bold move by the Association, a way to cement their influence and bolster their image both within the hunter community and outside it.
Before the match, I ran into Selena.
“Still in the fight?” I asked.
“Yep, pretty much on it,” she replied with a small shrug. “And so is Black.”
I raised an eyebrow. “The two of you are getting close, huh?”
Selena’s face scrunched up in mock disgust. “He isn’t my type, just saying. Anyway, who’s your opponent?”
I glanced at the tournament brackets displayed on the card I’d been given. Unlike the earlier rounds, the pairings for the fourth match onward allowed contestants foreknowledge of their next opponents—a move by the organizers to heighten the stakes.
My eyes landed on a name, and my jaw tightened.
“That bastard, Geoffrey,” I muttered.
Selena smirked knowingly. “Figures. Mine’s Black.”
“Think you can take him?” I asked.
She folded her arms, considering it. “It’ll be tough, but I’ve got my golden pass secured, so I’m not stressing too much. The president said the top 16 would all get one, remember?”
I nodded. The golden pass was an undeniable safety net, granting privileges far beyond most hunters. But like Selena, I wasn’t content with just a spot in the top 16.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“I still want to shoot for number one,” Selena added, her tone sharpening. “And word is, the top three will get some kind of special rewards. It’s something new, and if it’s what I think it is, it’s worth going all in.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“Looks like you’re as much of a gambler as ever.”
“Call it ambition,” Selena shot back with a wink. “Moreover, should you really be saying that?”
Before I could retort, a blinding flash of light consumed my vision. When it faded, I found myself standing atop a mountain. Jagged peaks stretched in every direction, their stark silhouettes cutting sharply against a pale blue sky. Thin air brushed my face, cool and crisp, carrying the faint whistle of a high-altitude wind. The terrain beneath my boots was rough, uneven stone, and the space was wide enough to offer room for a brutal battle.
My match had come before Selena’s, it seemed.
Before I could process my surroundings further, another burst of light flared in front of me. As the brightness dimmed, Geoffrey emerged. His ragged appearance was as disheveled as ever, his wild grin stretched across his face in an expression of absolute delight.
“It looks like we meet again!” he hollered, his voice echoing off the surrounding cliffs.
I tried to move, instinctively preparing to summon my doll, but I couldn’t. My body was locked in place, my limbs stiff as if bound by invisible chains. An oppressive weight pressed against me, and I quickly realized what was happening: an aura was holding me captive.
A booming voice rang through the air, cutting through the tension.
“You get a commentator for the final 16! Isn’t that great?” It was President Bob, his jovial tone as infuriating as ever. “Anyways, you’re still inside the tower, so don’t be scared of taking risks. You won’t exactly die! But hey, everything around you is real enough to hurt. So, what are you waiting for? Fight!”
As his voice faded, the aura trapping me dissipated. Simultaneously, my doll appeared in front of me, materializing out of thin air. The mechanics of the tournament had kicked in—my doll couldn’t be summoned until the fight was officially declared. A safeguard, no doubt, to keep matches “fair” in the eyes of the Association.
Geoffrey stood there, radiating smugness, his grin growing wider. He looked utterly unconcerned, his posture as relaxed as if this were a casual spar rather than a fight for dominance.
“Come on,” he called, his voice dripping with arrogance. “I’ll give you the first move.”
Arrogant prick.
I wasn’t about to fall for Geoffrey’s mind games. His grin wasn’t just for show; it was part of his strategy. I knew the bastard too well to fall into his trap.
Geoffrey’s most devastating ability was as cunning as it was simple: he could survive the first attack of any fight without retaliation. Once he endured, he could strike back instantaneously with the same attack—magnified tenfold. It was the kind of power that made him dangerous, especially to anyone brash or overconfident enough to go all in at the start.
A Dealer-type like me, Geoffrey thrived on risks, gambling with his life in ways that made even hardened hunters uneasy. But where he relied on boldness and an almost supernatural confidence in his defense, I preferred calculated strategy.
I gestured, and my doll lunged forward with a basic jab. It wasn’t the kind of attack Geoffrey would want—it lacked the power needed to trigger his ability. At the same moment, I activated my cloak and vanished, blending seamlessly into the mountain air.
Geoffrey dodged the doll’s strike effortlessly, his grin widening. His body language practically begged for a stronger attack. But I wasn’t taking the bait.
The doll pursued him relentlessly, its attacks calculated but intentionally restrained. It jabbed, swiped, and feinted, keeping the pressure on without giving Geoffrey the opportunity to exploit my moves.
“Playing it safe, are we?” Geoffrey taunted, his voice laced with amusement. “I expected more from you.”
His grin widened further as he suddenly shifted gears, closing the distance between him and the doll in a single, fluid motion. He struck with a devastating kick that sent the doll skidding backward across the rocky terrain.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he sneered, his aura flaring with power.
I reappeared behind him, my hand outstretched as I prepared to place a Soul Link on his back. But Geoffrey’s reflexes were monstrous. In a blur, he twisted around, grabbing my wrist with bone-crushing strength.
“Too slow,” he hissed, slamming me into the ground.
The impact rattled through my body, pain radiating from where I’d hit the rocky surface. I struggled to rise, but Geoffrey didn’t let up. He pressed the advantage, his strikes relentless and precise.
I barely had time to summon Soul Chains from my doll, their spectral glow cutting through the air as they lashed toward Geoffrey. He dodged them with infuriating ease, his movements a blur.
“Is that the best you can do?” he taunted again, his grin never wavering.
But I wasn’t done yet.
The doll surged forward, its movements a blur of its own as it launched a coordinated assault with the chains. At the same time, I activated Soul Castling, switching places with the doll in the blink of an eye.
The sudden shift caught Geoffrey off guard, if only for a moment. It was enough for me to plant a Soul Link on his arm.
“Got you,” I muttered, a triumphant smirk curling my lips.
Geoffrey’s grin faltered, replaced by a scowl.
The tide of the battle was about to turn… or so I’d like to think.
Geoffrey dispersed my aura as he flickered to my left.
I didn’t have the luxury of staking my life every time, nor the absurd faith Geoffrey seemed to have in his abilities. So, I played it safe.
My doll lunged forward, delivering a basic jab. It wasn’t the kind of attack Geoffrey would want—it lacked the power needed to trigger his ability. At the same moment, I activated my cloak and vanished, blending seamlessly into the mountain air.
Geoffrey moved with fluidity, dodging the doll’s strike effortlessly. His grin widened, his body language practically goading the doll to come at him with something stronger.
But I wasn’t about to take the bait.
The doll pursued him relentlessly, its attacks calculated but intentionally restrained. It jabbed, swiped, and feinted, keeping the pressure on without giving Geoffrey the opportunity to exploit my moves.
Geoffrey danced out of reach, his movements light and teasing, his grin unwavering. He wanted me to grow impatient, to lash out with everything I had.
But if there was one thing I’d learned in this life, it was patience.
I reappeared behind Geoffrey, my hand landing firmly on his shoulder. The Soul Link embedded itself before he even had a chance to react—or so I thought.
This was the second time he countered me.
His reflexes were monstrous.
In a blur, he grabbed my wrist, twisted it with bone-crushing strength, and slammed me into the rocky ground. The earth beneath me cracked under the force, sending tremors through the terrain as my invisibility shattered like glass.
The good news? His instantaneous magnified counterattack was now off the table.
The bad news? Geoffrey wasn’t the type to fold just because his ace was out of play.
As I struggled to rise, my doll launched a ferocious assault, dual Soul Chains materializing in its hands like spectral weapons. The chains gleamed with an eerie light, their presence a clear indicator that the doll’s disguise had fully dropped.
The chains lashed out, spiraling toward Geoffrey with precision, only to pass through an afterimage.
He was fast—so fast that tracking his movements felt futile.
I barely had time to breathe before I felt a pull on my cloak. Geoffrey had somehow closed the gap, yanking me back and slamming me into the earth again. Pain radiated through my body as the rough terrain bit into my skin.
Before I could react, his boot came crashing down toward my skull, aiming to crush it like a melon.
Instinct took over. I rolled, narrowly avoiding the stomp, and as I did, I left Soul Links on every patch of earth my hands grazed.
Geoffrey wasn’t letting up. He followed with relentless aggression, moving with such ferocity it felt like fighting a storm.
I summoned Soul Chains in rapid succession from the Soul Links I’d left on the ground, trying to slow him down. The chains snaked toward him, but each time, his form shimmered and dissolved into another afterimage.
I struggled to read his movements. Whatever he was doing wasn’t simple speed—it felt like teleportation, a disorienting blend of skill and ability.
When he was upon me again, his hand outstretched as if to grab me, I used Soul Castling, switching places with my doll in the blink of an eye.
The doll lashed its chains in a wide arc, their whip-like strikes carving through the air. But Geoffrey vanished again, his afterimages taunting me.
Sweat dripped down my face as I tried to keep up. Geoffrey’s unpredictability was his greatest weapon. Each move felt like part of an intricate puzzle, designed to keep me off balance.
I needed to find a way to break through his rhythm.
And fast.
~50