LI
The air was razor-thin at this altitude, each breath feeling like a futile gasp as the mountain wind howled around us. My lungs burned, my muscles screamed, but Geoffrey’s relentless assault left no room for respite.
It was a brutal game of cat and mouse. I dodged, he pursued, and my doll danced between us, its spectral chains striking out in calculated precision. The terrain was unforgiving—jagged rocks, uneven ground, and sheer cliffs that loomed as constant reminders of the danger we faced. The fight dragged on, each second heavier than the last, the weight of exhaustion pressing on my body and mind.
Geoffrey’s grin never wavered, his movements as fluid and confident as they had been at the start. He was relentless, his attacks an endless tide that sought to drown me. For hours, we played this deadly dance, neither of us willing to yield.
As I evaded another strike, narrowly escaping the grip of his hand, my thoughts began to drift—to the past, to the version of Geoffrey I had written into Hunterworks. Back then, he was nothing more than a throwaway villain, a minor character designed to showcase the protagonist’s overwhelming strength. His death had been quick, his story a footnote in a larger narrative.
But now, standing face to face with him, I realized just how incomplete my understanding of him had been. Geoffrey wasn’t the simple antagonist I had created. He was complex, his abilities vast and terrifyingly cohesive in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
THE PUZZLE OF POWER
Every Hunter’s abilities were shaped by their Passion—the core drive or obsession that defined them. It was a unifying theme that tied their powers together, giving them structure and purpose. For me, it was strategy and manipulation, my ability to weave intricate plans and control the battlefield. For Geoffrey, though, his abilities seemed chaotic, disjointed.
Teleportation. Afterimages. An instantaneous counterattack that could magnify and return damage tenfold. At first glance, these abilities felt like a patchwork of unrelated skills. But there had to be a thread that connected them—a core that bound his powers into a cohesive whole.
As I parried his next attack, forcing him to engage my doll instead, the question gnawed at me. What was Geoffrey’s Passion? What drove him to possess abilities that defied conventional strategy?
THE MAN BEHIND THE MONSTER
I took a moment to review what I knew about Geoffrey. He was a washed-up Hunter, a man living on the fringes of society, saddled with debts but clinging to one redeeming piece of his life—his daughter. That single fact painted a picture of a man who had once been different, perhaps even hopeful.
But what kind of man had he been in his youth? What had shaped him into the person he was now?
The absence of his wife loomed large in my mind. Whether she had left or died, the impact on Geoffrey would have been profound. If she had left, perhaps it bred resentment, a bitterness that fueled his recklessness. Or maybe he was still hopelessly in love, chasing after someone who had long since moved on. If she had died, perhaps he sought revenge, or maybe her loss left him hollow, focused solely on raising his daughter.
These possibilities buzzed in my mind, each one plausible but none definitive.
THE SHIFT IN MOMENTUM
My doll struck out with its chains, each lash carving through the air with deadly intent. Geoffrey dodged effortlessly, his afterimages taunting me. He moved like a phantom, his speed and precision making it nearly impossible to land a decisive blow.
But something was different now. As the fight wore on, his movements began to feel less chaotic, more deliberate. Each step, each strike, seemed to follow an invisible rhythm, a pattern I couldn’t quite grasp. It was as if he were playing a game—a high-stakes gamble where every move was calculated, every risk weighed against the potential reward.
A NEW STRATEGY
With this realization, my approach shifted. I couldn’t outmatch him in raw power or speed, but I could disrupt his rhythm, force him to make mistakes.
I activated multiple Soul Links simultaneously, creating a web of chains that crisscrossed the battlefield. The chains lashed out in unpredictable patterns, cutting off his escape routes and limiting his mobility. At the same time, I used Soul Castling to swap places with my doll, keeping him guessing about my location.
Geoffrey’s grin faltered for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. He was adapting, but so was I.
The dance continued, but now the tempo was mine to set. As I pressed the attack, I couldn’t help but feel a grim satisfaction. Geoffrey might be the ultimate gambler, but even the best players could lose when the odds were stacked against them.
This fight wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
Geoffrey’s annoyance was evident as he dodged the flurry of Soul Links snapping into existence. His movements were precise, his body weaving between the glowing strings like water flowing around rocks. Each dodge was effortless, almost playful, but I caught the subtle twitch in his expression. He was starting to feel the pressure.
The strings weren’t meant to hit him—not yet. They were a distraction, a way to corral him into a specific space on the battlefield. My doll moved in tandem with the strings, its chains lashing out with calculated precision. Each swing missed by a hair’s breadth, but that was intentional. I wasn’t trying to land a hit. Not yet.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Geoffrey taunted, his voice dripping with confidence. “I expected more from you.”
I ignored his words, focusing instead on the rhythm of the battle. Geoffrey’s counters relied on baiting his opponents into overcommitting, but his strength was also his weakness. He couldn’t act first. His entire strategy was reactive, and I planned to exploit that to its fullest.
The strings continued to fly, crisscrossing the battlefield in a web of glowing lines. Geoffrey dodged them all, his movements almost too fast to track. But every dodge brought him closer to the center of the web, where my doll waited like a predator lying in ambush.
Geoffrey’s grin widened as he noticed the pattern. “Trying to box me in? You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Oh, I will,” I replied, my voice calm and measured. “But you’re going to help me.”
With a flick of my wrist, I snapped another Soul Link, sending a wave of strings converging on Geoffrey from all sides. He leapt into the air, his body twisting as he avoided the trap with an acrobatic display that would have been impressive if it weren’t so predictable.
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As he landed, my doll lunged, its chains striking with blinding speed. Geoffrey countered instinctively, his body moving faster than thought as he deflected the attack. But this time, the chains weren’t aiming for him—they were aiming for the strings.
The chains wrapped around the glowing lines, pulling them taut and creating a shimmering net that surrounded Geoffrey on all sides. His eyes widened as he realized what had happened, but it was too late. The strings glowed brighter, their energy pulsating as they activated.
“You’re not the only one who can counter,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips.
The strings exploded into motion, their energy surging toward Geoffrey in a wave of force. He tried to dodge, but the net tightened around him, leaving him with nowhere to go. His afterimages flickered as he attempted to escape, but each movement only tangled him further in the web.
“Damn it!” he snarled, his grin replaced by a look of frustration. He lashed out with a burst of energy, shattering the nearest strings, but the damage was done. The net had served its purpose.
My doll moved in, its chains striking with relentless precision. Geoffrey blocked the first few attacks, his counters still sharp despite his predicament, but he was losing ground. Each strike pushed him closer to the edge of the battlefield, where the jagged cliffs loomed like the maw of a hungry beast.
Geoffrey’s breathing grew labored as the fight dragged on. His movements were still fast, but they lacked the fluidity they’d had at the start. He was running out of steam, his counters becoming slower and less effective.
I saw my opening and took it. Activating the Soul Links one final time, I unleashed a surge of energy that sent the remaining strings converging on Geoffrey. He tried to counter, his body moving in a blur as he deflected the attacks, but this time, he couldn’t keep up.
The strings wrapped around him, binding his arms and legs in a web of glowing energy. My doll stepped forward, its chains poised to strike the final blow.
Geoffrey looked up at me, his grin returning despite his predicament. “Well played,” he said, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. “But don’t think this means you’ve won.”
I nodded, acknowledging his words. “It’s not over until it’s over,” I replied. “But for now, I’m in control.”
With a final command, the doll’s chains descended, their glowing edges cutting through the air with deadly precision. The battle was over—but the war was just beginning.
Geoffrey ignored me at first, his attention entirely on my doll. He moved with his usual unsettling fluidity, dodging every strike the doll sent his way. The faintest flicker of irritation crossed his face when I whipped a Soul Chain from under my wrist, lashing it toward him with precision.
He vanished before it could connect, reappearing at my flank in a blur.
“What are you playing at, you fool?” he sneered, his aura-charged fist barreling toward me. The air around his strike rippled with power, promising a world of pain if it connected.
But it never did.
Instead, Geoffrey was wrenched sideways, his momentum abruptly arrested and redirected ninety degrees. He staggered mid-motion, his expression a mix of shock and confusion.
“What the hell—?!” he barked, spinning to face me.
I couldn’t help but smirk. The trick worked.
It was a hastily cobbled-together Vector Path, imbued with a Homing attribute. Spot A was the space around me, and Spot B was my doll. The instant Geoffrey crossed into the area I’d marked, the path engaged, redirecting him to my doll’s position like a magnet snapping to metal.
It wasn’t elegant, and I doubted I’d replicate it cleanly in the chaos of battle, but it had worked. That was all that mattered.
Geoffrey recovered quickly, his wild grin returning as if nothing had happened. “A new trick, huh? Not bad. But it won’t save you.”
He dashed toward me again, this time zigzagging unpredictably. The afterimages he left behind were dizzying, each one indistinguishable from the real him. My doll moved to intercept, chains whipping through the air, but every strike passed harmlessly through illusions.
He’s adapting.
Fine. So would I.
I snapped my fingers, activating the Soul Links I’d planted across the battlefield. Glowing threads shot out from the ground, forming a lattice of crisscrossing chains that boxed Geoffrey in. He skidded to a halt, his grin faltering for the briefest moment.
“Oh, come on,” he muttered, his tone half-annoyed, half-amused.
The chains surged toward him, tightening the noose. Geoffrey blurred again, slipping past the first wave of restraints, but I wasn’t done. I adjusted the Vector Path, shifting Spot B to the densest cluster of chains.
The moment Geoffrey tried to teleport, the path engaged. He reappeared right in the middle of the trap, chains wrapping around his limbs like serpents.
His grin vanished.
“You little—”
“Not so fast,” I interrupted, pulling the chains taut. The glowing threads hummed with energy, each one reinforced with Soul energy to resist his attempts to break free.
Geoffrey struggled, his muscles straining against the bindings. “You think this is enough to stop me?”
“No,” I admitted, “but it’s enough to buy me time.”
I focused my energy, channeling it into the chains. They began to glow brighter, their ethereal light intensifying. Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed, realizing too late what was happening.
Soul Detonation.
The chains erupted in a burst of spectral energy, the explosion engulfing Geoffrey in a blinding flash of light. The shockwave tore through the mountain air, kicking up a storm of dust and debris.
I shielded my eyes, waiting for the dust to settle. When it did, Geoffrey stood there, battered but grinning.
“Not bad,” he said, his voice hoarse but filled with excitement. “Not bad at all.”
He staggered slightly, his movements slower than before. The explosion had done its job, wearing him down.
But it wasn’t over yet.
“Ready for round two?” I asked, my doll stepping forward, chains at the ready.
Geoffrey laughed, wiping blood from his mouth. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Fine. Let’s see how many tricks you’ve got left.”
I smiled back. “There’s more where that came from.”
Geoffrey blurred in motion, his form a smudge of speed as he tried to recover.
But my doll was ready. Its spectral chains shimmered in the thin mountain air, glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light. With calculated precision, it lashed out in a brutal one-two combination.
The first strike drove into Geoffrey’s kidney, a punishing blow that sent him lurching sideways. The second followed immediately—a crushing strike to his face that sent blood splattering across the rocky terrain.
Geoffrey staggered, his wild grin faltering for the first time. His knees buckled slightly, his balance unsteady. He hadn’t expected to be struck mid-counter.
Dealer-types like us had strict rules governing our abilities—rules that defined the boundaries of our powers and punished those who overstepped. Geoffrey had gambled, relying on his counter to save him, but he had miscalculated.
And now he was paying the price.
I watched as he swayed, struggling to stay upright. Blood dripped from his nose, a crimson trail painting the ground beneath him. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to recover.
President Bob’s booming voice broke the tense silence, reverberating through the mountain air.
“We have our first winner from the Final 16! Give a round of applause for Reynard Bright!”
The announcement was met with a thunderous wave of clapping and cheers from the invisibble audience, the sound echoing off the jagged peaks. But I didn’t bask in the glory. My mind was already moving ahead, analyzing, strategizing.
There were more fights to come.
As Geoffrey collapsed to his knees, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, I approached cautiously. The fight was over, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down.
“You fought well,” I said, my tone even.
Geoffrey chuckled weakly, his voice hoarse. “Don’t patronize me, kid. You won fair and square.”
He raised his head, meeting my gaze. Despite the blood and exhaustion etched into his features, his grin returned—a shadow of its former self but no less defiant.
“I’ll be back,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “Next time, I won’t hold back.”
Such a sore loser… As Geoffrey was teleported out of the arena, I turned my attention to the sky. The tournament wasn’t just about strength—it was a test of endurance, strategy, and adaptability. I couldn’t afford to rest on this victory.
The mountain began to shift, the jagged terrain dissolving into particles of light as the arena reset itself. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.
~051