LXV

I had a lot of questions swirling in my head, but no answers that made sense. What was the Prophet’s true goal? Why escalate things so quickly? I thought I had outmaneuvered him, provoked him into targeting only me. Clearly, I had been wrong. No, worse—I’d been arrogant.

The realization hit me like a cold splash of water.

“Hey. Snap out of it,” Leora’s voice broke through my daze, accompanied by the sharp sound of her fingers snapping inches from my face.

I blinked and focused on her. We were inside a small, weathered cabin that the World Path had transported us to. The air smelled faintly of pine and damp wood. Leon was cradled in Leora’s arms, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the tension that hung heavy in the room.

Leora’s expression was sharp, her gaze boring into me. Her usual warmth was replaced by something colder, more analytical. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was accusing me of something.

“No way we’re postponing this,” she said flatly.

I braced myself. I wasn’t sure what hurt more—the lingering exhaustion or the fact that she was right.

Leora started with her usual calm demeanor, but it didn’t last. She began methodically dismantling my actions, guilt-tripping me with surgical precision.

“You wanted to join the Hunting Dogs,” she said, her voice measured but cutting. “You told me you had a three-year plan to deal with the Prophet. Three years to checkmate him. It’s barely been half a month, Reynard. Half. A. Month.”

“I know, I know!” I said, throwing up my hands defensively. “But plans change, okay? The guy’s way more proactive than I expected. I didn’t think he’d escalate this quickly.”

“No, you kicked up a hornet’s nest,” she snapped.

Ugh. She was right. I’d thought I could outthink him, play the long game, but all I’d done was make myself a target. Now, everyone around me was caught in the crossfire.

Leora’s piercing gaze didn’t waver. “So, what now? Are you still clinging to this ‘three-year plan,’ or are you going to admit you have no idea what you’re doing?”

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my thoughts. “Fine. I’ll scrap the plan,” I admitted. “But listen—if I had someone on the level of the Seven Extremes, I could end him. I know I could.”

Leora raised an eyebrow. “Does it have to be one of the Seven Extremes?”

That question stumped me.

The Seven Extremes were practically mythological figures, each of them wielding power that defied logic. In this timeline, though, the concept of power levels was still vague. Hunters categorized themselves as strong, middling, or weak—a crude system at best. The more refined classifications, like Gifts and Ascended, wouldn’t become common knowledge for another decade.

I scratched the back of my head, searching for a way to explain. “It doesn’t have to be one of the Seven Extremes, but anyone at the level of an Ascended could do it. They’re... a blind spot to the Prophet. His foresight can’t track them.”

Selena stirred from her spot in the corner, sitting up with a yawn. “What’s an Ascended?” she asked, her voice groggy but curious.

Leora’s expression mirrored Selena’s curiosity, her head tilting slightly as she waited for my answer.

I sighed. “An Ascended is... someone who’s reached a state of mastery over their aura. They’re like demi-gods—rare and ridiculously powerful. Their abilities aren’t just superhuman; they’re outright supernatural.”

Selena raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. “Sounds like you’re talking about fairy tales.”

I shook my head. “No, they’re real. But they’re so rare that most people will never even meet one. And even if they did, they wouldn’t recognize them. Ascended are... different. Look, the Extreme Fighter alone is enough proof just as how real they could be…”

Leora crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. “So, you’re saying we need one of these Ascended to kill the Prophet?”

I hesitated. “Yes. Or someone with equivalent power.”

My mind raced, sifting through my knowledge of this timeline. Aside from the Seven Extremes, who could possibly match the Prophet?

Bob came to mind, but he was... complicated. Then there was Selena.

I glanced at her, my thoughts swirling. She had potential. She was closer to Ascension than she realized. But her second awakening condition was brutal—one wrong move, and it could kill her. I couldn’t risk pushing her too soon.

Selena caught my gaze and raised an eyebrow. “What? You’ve got that weird look on your face again.”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, shaking my head.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Leora, meanwhile, was watching me closely, her expression unreadable. “If you’re serious about this, then you need to start thinking realistically. We can’t afford any more mistakes.”

“I know,” I said, my voice quieter now.

Leon stirred in his sleep, and Leora adjusted him in her arms. Her gaze softened, just for a moment.

This world was cruel, chaotic, and relentless. But even in the midst of all that, there were threads of hope—fragile, yes, but strong enough to hold onto.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

I just had to make sure I didn’t let go.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the tense silence in the cabin.

I exchanged a glance with Leora, who was cradling Leon protectively. Selena, leaning against the far wall, raised an eyebrow but didn’t move.

With a resigned sigh, I walked to the door and opened it.

Standing there was Atropos, dressed in her usual absurdly formal maid outfit, her silver hair gleaming like moonlight. Her crimson eyes flicked to Leon immediately, narrowing slightly as the baby stirred and blinked awake.

Leora’s arms tightened around Leon instinctively, her gaze snapping to Atropos with suspicion. “Who’s this?”

Before I could answer, Selena’s voice rang out from her corner. “What’s your sister doing here, Reynard?”

I turned to her, startled. “How—wait, what?”

Selena smirked and leaned back lazily. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious. The resemblance is uncanny. Besides,” she added with a cheeky grin, “I might’ve bugged your place.”

“You what?”

Selena shrugged. “You didn’t tell me to stop. Bodyguarding 101.”

Leora shot me an accusatory glare, but before I could explain—or defend myself—Selena chimed in again, this time addressing Leora. “By the way, you might want to know that this ‘sister’ of his isn’t just any random maid. She’s one of the ten directors of the Hunter’s Association.”

Leora’s expression froze. The accusing glare she’d aimed at me shifted into something worse: a cold, detached apathy.

I shivered involuntarily.

Atropos, still standing in the doorway, tilted her head slightly as if unimpressed by the theatrics. “May I come in, or shall I stand here until your little soap opera is over?”

I stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

She walked in with the grace of a dancer, her gaze briefly meeting Leora’s before settling on Leon. She crouched slightly, inspecting the baby with an intensity that made me nervous.

“What are you doing here, Atropos?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she straightened and turned to me, her crimson eyes boring into mine. “What’s your plan now?”

Her question hung in the air, heavy and loaded.

I hesitated. I couldn’t let her—or anyone—know about the tampered and missing pieces of my memory. I activated the telepathic link between us through the Hermit Tarot Card, silently warning her not to mention anything about my fragmented mind.

Atropos’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. “Understood,” she replied, her voice neutral.

Leora, still holding Leon, finally spoke. “What exactly is your connection to Reynard?”

Atropos’s crimson gaze shifted to her. “I’m his sister. By blood, if that matters to you.”

Selena let out a low whistle. “Bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh, Leora?”

Leora ignored her, her eyes narrowing. “And you’re one of the directors of the Hunter’s Association?”

“That is correct,” Atropos replied, her tone cool and detached.

Leora’s grip on Leon tightened, and I could almost feel the weight of her judgment pressing down on me.

“Reynard,” she said, her voice as cold as ice, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Atropos crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “Your theatrics with the World Path have drawn attention. The Prophet will undoubtedly retaliate. If you’re going to drag the Association into this mess, you’d better have a solid plan.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. “I’m working on it,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Atropos arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Work faster.”

The room fell silent again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Leora sat on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped protectively around Leon, her expression as sharp as the blade she had wielded earlier. She didn’t even look at Atropos when she remarked, “You know, I’ve never seen anyone from the Ten Directors except for Dr. Yamada and Klein. Makes you wonder if the whole ‘Ten Directors’ thing is just another conspiracy.”

Atropos’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly, but her voice remained calm. “Not everything is a conspiracy, Leora.”

Leora smirked, her tone biting. “Sure, just like how the Hunting Dogs are definitely not a conspiracy.”

I felt the tension spike in the room, and Leon stirred uneasily in her arms. The last thing we needed was a clash between these two. Conspiracy or not, Atropos had her uses. And yes, I still didn’t fully trust her—how could I?—but I needed them to at least pretend to get along. For Leon’s sake, if nothing else.

I raised my hands in a placating gesture. “Actually, it was Atropos who convinced me not to join the Hunting Dogs.”

Leora’s glare softened, though the suspicion in her eyes didn’t fade entirely.

Selena leaned against the wall with a cheeky grin. “Probably another conspiracy.”

Thankfully, her comment was ignored by everyone.

Atropos shifted her attention to me, her voice slipping into her usual businesslike tone. “Since your escape from the Extreme Gunner, things have escalated. My mechanical army managed to decimate a significant portion of the cult’s forces.”

Leora’s lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile, probably thinking what a ‘mechanical army’ looked like.

Atropos continued, “Even Bob got involved. He managed to land a cheeky blow on the Extreme Maker, Eliz-Beth.”

I blinked in surprise. “Bob? What’s he doing tangling with an Extreme?”

Atropos gave a rueful smile. “He’s always been ambitious. The President of the Hunter’s Association lost an arm in the process, though.”

The news hit me like a punch to the gut. “Wait—Bob? He’s…”

“Alive,” Atropos confirmed. “But barely. He’ll be out of commission for a while.”

I mulled over the implications. Bob’s ambition was no secret—he wanted aura to be publicly disseminated, and he was vocal about breaking down the barriers of censorship surrounding aura, Hunters, cryptids, and even the truth about the world’s… flatness.

Selena broke the silence with a casual, but pointed question. “Speaking of which, Reynard, what was that comment you made to Ranas about the world being flat?”

I froze.

Leora’s gaze sharpened, and she honed in on me like a predator. “You’re keeping too many secrets, Reynard.”

Atropos, surprisingly, came to my defense. “It’s irrelevant.”

Leora shot her a skeptical look, but didn’t press further. I could tell she wasn’t satisfied, though.

“I might as well come clean,” I began, taking a deep breath. “Who here knows anything about World History?”

I raised my hand. Atropos mirrored the gesture, and… nothing else.

Selena snorted. “Slept through the entire thing. Too many dates, not enough action.”

Leora shrugged, her expression unbothered. “Same. Not exactly useful for a hunter.”

I wasn’t surprised. Hunters didn’t need to know about history, not when survival was their primary concern. And even if they wanted to, most of it had been scrubbed clean by the government. Details about the Old World—countries, cultures, the way life used to be—were considered irrelevant or dangerous.

“Well, I did,” I said, leaning back in my chair. The first thing I did when I realized I was stuck here was set up a routine. A normal life. Got a job, took online classes, even managed to get a diploma. I needed to understand the kind of world I’d landed in.

And I learned this world was more ‘detailed’ than what I had in mind.

That was why it never crossed my mind I transmigrated my novel until I came face to face with aura, hunters, and things that had started to become familiar to me.

“To be frank,” I gave a dry chuckle. “There isn’t much about history… But… I knew things…”

Selena tilted her head with a hint of amusement creeping back into her expression. “And? What did the wise scholar learn?”

“That the world is ending,” I said bluntly.

The room fell silent. Even Selena’s grin faltered.

“Not all at once,” I clarified. “It’s been happening slowly, ever since the discovery of aura. The rifts, the cryptids, the way the continents are splitting apart—it’s all connected. Aura didn’t just change the rules of survival; it’s been destabilizing the world itself.”

Leora’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t interrupt. Atropos tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

I did a lot of worldbuilding when I wrote Hunterworks.

At some point, I made it by design that the protagonist would be the one to save the world. He was supposed to stop it from fragmenting entirely.

Selena raised an eyebrow. “So, what? The world is… flat? What does that mean?”

~065