XXXIX
The days after Geoffrey and I made our wager, we settled into a rhythm that felt almost calm. It was a rare break from the usual chaos. I finally returned to my quarters that night, the quietness of the space a welcome reprieve after the day's antics. Between training sessions, I spent my time exploring the airship's amenities, mingling with other hunters, and occasionally scouting for potential clients. The hunter world had its own intricate network of power brokers and fixers, and it was never too early to sow the seeds of opportunity.
By the ninth day since this stage began, the exam finally concluded. Tradition dictated that all hunters who passed would gather in the grand ballroom for a celebration. The room buzzed with the energy of relieved hunters, each one glad to have another grueling stage behind them.
"Hey, Reynard!" A familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned just in time to see Selena approaching, her usual grin replaced by a mock scowl. She punched my shoulder lightly. "I'm still mad about that transformation prank, you know."
I couldn't help but laugh, her lingering frustration amusing me more than it probably should have. Her narrowed eyes suggested she was debating whether to let her temper loose, but instead, she sighed dramatically. Before I could tease her further, she caught sight of Shen entering the ballroom. A flash of panic crossed her face, and without another word, she bolted.
Shaking my head, I let my gaze wander across the room. Black was slumped in a corner, his complexion pale and his expression grim. He avoided looking up, likely unnerved by the transparent ceiling that offered a clear view of the sky. His fear of heights was something he'd never quite shaken, and the ballroom's design did him no favors.
Over at the buffet, Dummy was inhaling food like a man possessed, his plate an ever-rotating assembly line of dishes. Not far from him, Geoffrey was in his own world, devouring clams at a speed that bordered on inhuman. A growing pile of empty shells sat beside him, forming a small mountain.
President Bob eventually made his grand entrance, looking slightly more dignified than usual. His red cape was as gaudy as ever, but he'd paired it with a suit this time, an attempt to appear formal. The effort didn't quite land, but no one here cared about appearances. Most hunters wore their rugged gear, though a few, like me, opted for attire that balanced formality with function.
Bob raised his glass, a single flick of his finger creating a clear chime that silenced the room. His booming voice carried easily over the crowd.
"Congratulations, hunters, on your victory!" His broad grin made it clear he was enjoying himself. "Now, onto the next test: it will be Caster-inspired!" His grin widened, relishing the ripple of intrigue that spread through the room. "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 higher, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Now… we party!"
Cheers and applause erupted around me. While many hunters relaxed in the celebration, I could see the gears turning in some of their minds. A Caster-inspired race meant one thing: traps, spells, and plenty of magical chaos. For most of us, tonight would be the last chance to relax before the real challenge began.
The President's early reveal of the next exam's theme was unusual, practically an invitation to strategize and prepare. It was a luxury we rarely had, and the hunters who slipped out of the ballroom early were clearly intent on taking advantage of it.
My eyes drifted back to Geoffrey, who was watching me with his usual self-satisfied smirk. He practically radiated smugness, clearly assuming he'd won our bet. I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, though. If he thought I'd let him outplay me, he was in for a rude awakening.
Instead, I turned my focus to the celebration. The ballroom was alive with laughter and camaraderie, a rare reprieve in the high-stakes world we lived in. These moments, brief as they were, reminded me why we fought so hard to stay in the game.
Still, even as I let myself enjoy the festivities, the thought of the next exam loomed in the back of my mind. A Caster-inspired race was bound to be unpredictable, filled with magical traps and obstacles that would test even the most adaptable hunters. It wasn't the kind of challenge that played to my strengths, but I had enough tricks up my sleeve to hold my own.
One thing was certain: there was no room for complacency. Tonight, I'd enjoy the celebration. Tomorrow, the real work would begin.
The ballroom had mostly emptied by the time I decided to approach Black. He sat in a shadowed corner, his posture tense, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor beneath the transparent ceiling. His fear of heights wasn't born of any 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. His Shadow Devil had saddled him with this irrational fear, a weakness that now left him visibly rattled.
As I neared, I pulled out the pendant he'd lost to Joe. The intricate charm glinted faintly in the dim light as I handed it over. "Take me along in the race tomorrow," I said, keeping my tone steady.
Black looked up, meeting my gaze. For a moment, his unease flickered in his dark eyes, but then he nodded, his expression hardening with determination. "I'll do my part," he said firmly. "So you better do yours."
With Black's support secured, I felt a surge of confidence. The upcoming race would be brutal, but having him on my side was no small advantage. Still, I couldn't ignore the pragmatism that defined most alliances here. Black might have agreed to work with me, but our partnership was based on mutual benefit. The moment I became a liability, he wouldn't hesitate to cut me loose.
I mulled over the unspoken fragility of our arrangement as Selena sauntered over. Her carefree grin made it hard to gauge whether she was genuinely relaxed or just masking her nerves. "Need a ride?" she asked, holding up a keychain.
I blinked, caught off guard, as she clicked a button. The keychain transformed into a sleek, compact motorbike—designed for speed above all else.
"What's your strategy?" I asked, curious despite myself.
She smirked. "Speed and precision. It's built to weave through tight spaces and outrun just about anything."
I studied the bike for a moment, weighing my options. While it was undoubtedly fast, its lightweight design leaned more toward fragility. With me as an added burden, it'd lose its edge and put both of us at risk.
"Thanks, but I'll stick with Black's setup," I said finally. "Safety first."
Selena's expression turned serious, her usual playfulness fading. "What's the plan, then?"
I met her gaze. "Follow your instincts. Prioritize your own safety. This race is going to be brutal, and I don't want you holding back for my sake."
She hesitated, her brow furrowing, but eventually nodded. "Fine. Just don't make me regret not dragging you along."
As the evening wore on, I mingled with the other hunters, playing the part of the amicable competitor. A friendly conversation here, a casual clap on the shoulder there—it was all a calculated act. Each interaction left behind a faint trace of my Soul Link, subtle enough that no one would notice.
When the ballroom emptied and the hunters retired to their quarters, my real work began. Cloaked by Selena's disguise attribute, I moved silently through the airship's dim corridors, connecting with the threads of Soul Link I'd established. One by one, I siphoned a sliver of aura from each hunter, careful to keep the drain subtle.
Back in my room, I channeled the stolen aura into my coin, forging it into a finely tuned artifact for divination. The process required precision, and as the last remnants of aura settled into the coin, I severed the Soul Links, returning the depleted essence to its owners. By morning, they'd feel the effects—a faint fatigue they wouldn't be able to place.
Just as I finished, a faint commotion echoed from the hall. I smirked. They'd realize soon enough how much they'd been sapped, but by then, it'd be too late.
Satisfied with my preparations, I made a quick call to my wife. Her voice was a welcome comfort after the day's scheming, and we shared a few lighthearted words before saying goodnight.
ZzzzzZzzzz…
Zzzzzzzz…
ZzzZzz…
Dawn broke over the horizon, casting the airship in golden light. The hunters gathered on the deck, their breaths visible in the crisp morning air. The tension was palpable, a mix of excitement and apprehension as we waited for the next stage to begin.
President Bob stood near the crow's nest, his red cape fluttering in the wind. His expression held its usual mix of amusement and authority, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd.
Nearby, for the first time, Joe took the wheel. The ship had been on autopilot for most of our journey, so seeing him in command drew murmurs of curiosity from the hunters.
We rose above the clouds, the airship slicing through the morning sky. The light softened, casting pale reflections across the vast, pillowy expanse. The air was thinner here, cold and sharp, but manageable for hunters. Then, to our left, a structure emerged—a jagged, foreboding silhouette breaking through the clouds.
The Fighting Tower loomed like a cruel beacon, its dark surface jagged and steep, reaching endlessly into the sky.
President Bob's voice rang out, cutting through the tension with a sharp clarity. "Hunters, behold the Fighting Tower!" His grin was wide, mischievous, as his gaze swept across the assembled competitors. "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!"
A murmur rippled through the crowd, nervous glances exchanged as the reality of the challenge settled in.
"And a word of caution," Bob continued, his voice almost teasing. "It's quite high up here. Hopefully, you all have the means for a safe descent!"
The tension spiked. Hunters edged closer to the airship's railing, their eyes flicking between the edge and the distant tower. Strategies were already forming, plans being weighed against the risk of the drop.
Bob raised his hand, fingers splayed as he began the countdown.
"One…"
The word hung in the air, dragging the seconds into an agonizing stretch. Hunters adjusted their gear, muttered quick prayers, or simply braced themselves for the chaos to come.
"Two…"
I gripped Black's arm, feeling the tension in his muscles as his gaze remained fixed on the vast, open sky. His fear of heights was palpable, his breathing uneven.
"Three!"
Bob's final word thundered through the air, and chaos erupted.
Hunters surged forward, leaping from the ship in a flurry of movement. Selena shot past me, her massive kite billowing open as it caught the wind. "Come on!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the roar of the wind.
Without hesitation, I latched a Soul Chain to her kite, feeling its energy pulse as it wrapped securely. Black clung to me, his usual composure shaken by the sheer drop beneath us. Selena glanced back, her eyes sharp with determination as she skillfully maneuvered the kite, its fabric straining against the wind.
Others weren't as lucky. A few hunters, desperate for an advantage, targeted us mid-air. They launched projectiles or reached out with their own abilities, trying to force us off balance.
But I was ready.
With a snap of my fingers, the Soul Marks I'd placed at the party the night before activated. Chains of energy shot out from their clothes, ensnaring anyone who dared come too close. They struggled, panicked, but the chains held firm, locking them in place until we were safely out of their reach.
The rules were clear: race with your life on the line. If they fell to their deaths, that was their problem, not mine.
We hit the ground hard but steady, the impact jarring. Black wasted no time, summoning his Shadow Devil's power. From the darkness at his feet, a massive, spectral horse emerged, its form both eerie and powerful. I swung onto its back, gripping Black's waist as the creature surged forward.
The landscape blurred around us, the dark horse kicking up dust and grit as it galloped with unrelenting speed. The Fighting Tower loomed ahead, its gates visible in the distance.
Selena zipped past us on her motorbike, a sleek and nimble blur of motion. She called out over her shoulder, "I'll scout ahead!"
Just before she vanished down the trail, she tossed something back at me—a small earpiece. I caught it mid-air and popped it in, immediately hearing the steady sound of her breathing through the comms.
"Look at you, going all out," I teased, grinning as I leaned closer to the mic.
She paused for a beat, her tone turning matter-of-fact. "Well, someone has to make sure you don't fail this exam after coming this far."
Her bluntness had me laughing despite the tension.
"Let's win this race," I said, determination surging through me as the Fighting Tower grew larger on the horizon.
~039