The Human Hunter Kizzel (5)
Akasa’s face hardened, his expression turning to stone.
He had been abandoned. Abandoned! His father had used even death as a card to keep him alive, and in exchange for the boy’s life, the kingdom had branded him a traitor.
The words Akasa had been trying to ignore now tore through his heart, shredding his composure. The hunter’s cunning tongue had struck at the most vulnerable part of his prey.
Kizzel continued his taunts.
"Being here means you, too, have been discarded and cast out. You’ve become a creature of the wild, where survival is the only goal. To eat or be eaten—that is the wild. I have survived amidst a nobility that the people behind those fences could never understand, and I will continue to survive. So, tell me, how are you any different? Kid?"
"What...?"
"You want to survive, too, don't you? To do that, you have to kill me. That drive, that singular focus on life—how is that any different from mine?"
"I... I don't eat people."
"What a pathetic, shallow logic. Most Exiliers don't eat people either, kid."
The response came only to the one who needed to hear it. Akasa stared blankly at his bracelet. The flowing sand. From beyond that borderless wall, the God was expressing its will without reservation.
[You are different, Akasa. Do not be swayed by the words of such a creature. Life is a gift Hartras gave you; it cannot be your only purpose. You are the one who decides what to do with it.]
"Urnil..."
"Hm? What was that?"
Kizzel began to close the distance slowly, acting with leisure. To him, it looked as though the boy had collapsed under the weight of his own inner turmoil. But Akasa was listening to Urnil’s voice more intently than ever before.
[Do not let the accusations of your enemy sway you. Your life is yours to guarantee; no one else will take responsibility for it. If you want to cry, cry. If you want revenge, take it! But do not think that doing so will make you fall to the same level as that monster. Others may not know, but at the very least, I know your worth.]
Akasa’s feet moved slowly.
[Your life is your own, Akasa.]
The staff was held in the middle. To the enemy, it appeared as a point whose distance could not be gauged. His hips sank, and his hand, resting on the slope of his stance, was loose.
The movement he had repeated thousands of times was aimed silently at his enemy.
[Yes. That is the Jin-gyeok-se (Advance Stance).]
Within the shrinking flames, a streak of pale essence surged through his body.
And then, Kizzel lunged.
The God had affirmed his life. Yet, Akasa did not feel awe or suffocating wonder. He simply trusted those words. A single sentence that affirmed his life, his thrown-away fate.
"I will live my own life!"
The staff Akasa swung carved a fierce trajectory.
Kizzel thought to himself: It’s just a staff swung by a child. How much could it possibly hurt? But at the same time, he remembered that this very same child had jumped from the top of a massive tree, where the branches split, and killed a wolf with a single blow.
That thought only occurred to him as he swung his own stick—a weapon no longer than a single-handed sword—at Akasa.
Akasa’s staff tangled with Kizzel’s stick. With a heavy impact that vibrated through his arms, Kizzel’s wrist, holding the stick, was forced backward. The staff overcame Kizzel’s strength and pushed forward.
Kizzel, who had been trying to draw the dagger hidden behind his waist with his empty left hand, was startled and took a step back. Akasa did not stop; he spun his body, half a turn per step, and brought the staff down. Kizzel, flustered, raised his stick to block the follow-up strike.
It wasn't the sound of a collision, but the sound of something breaking. Unlike the stick Kizzel held, Akasa’s staff had been further reinforced by Urnil’s essence.
Thanks to Kizzel instinctively retreating, the staff struck the ground instead. As a fierce, loud noise erupted, Kizzel finally drew his dagger and charged.
As long as his knife remained embedded in the wolf’s carcass, the advantage was his. And there was the difference in physique between a child and an adult. That was a metric of power that could never be overturned.
That is, if Akasa had been a normal child.
Akasa was not a normal child.
[Do it!]
Urnil shouted.
Akasa’s rear hand moved as he had been taught, forming a diagonal screen to block the front. Kizzel was taken aback by the movement, which looked as if the boy were hiding flat beneath his own staff, using it as a shield. It was natural for an adult to press down on a child from above. But Akasa had instead ‘gone lower.’ It had the effect of putting him a half-beat further away from Kizzel’s attack.
Attack, and block only to advance. That was the Jin-gyeok-se. Akasa had lowered himself, but he had never retreated. The tip of the staff, which had been low enough to touch the ground, surged up like a leaping fish.
"Gah!"
The attack caught Kizzel square on the chin. His vision flashed, and he staggered, but Kizzel was a seasoned killer. Retreating while swinging his sword wildly, he blinked and touched his chin. A terrible pain radiated from the point of impact.
Kizzel’s eyes burned with rage as he searched for the boy. Then, he was struck with confusion.
The boy was not in front of him. Only after a moment—a mere blink of an eye—did Kizzel realize the boy had escaped beyond the wall of fire that was slowly dying down.
"He's lost his mind."
It was an area where embers remained, and some parts were still burning. Vile malice and a twisted appetite whispered within Kizzel. The boy had looked bold, but it was all an act. That was why he was running away so frantically.
Kizzel pulled the knife that had been stuck in the wolf’s carcass and examined it. It was a decent blade, slightly longer than his own dagger.
"Should I call this the Cellabris style? Even what an Exilier has is top-tier, huh?"
Kizzel chased after Akasa, tears streaming down his face from the pain in his chin and the stinging smoke. He was filled with the desire to test the performance of his newly acquired blade. As he hurried, his foot caught on something and he stumbled.
"Damn it!"
A curse spat from Kizzel’s lips as he checked what had tripped him. It was a snare made by weaving several strands of brush together.
Even just experiencing the violent jolt or speaking made his chin ache. With a deeply furrowed brow, Kizzel pushed through the smoke, only to trip over something a second time. This time, a scream, not a curse, erupted. The fingers of his left hand, which had been holding the dagger, struck something that wasn't the ground. Something sharp and far from thin.
Crouching and groaning while holding his hand, Kizzel realized it was a piece of wood, sharpened and planted into the ground. His knuckles were gouged. Kizzel gritted his teeth, endured the pain, and switched his sword to his right hand. The dagger returned to his waist. He had abandoned the idea of playing with his prey.
Kizzel moved as if sweeping the ground with every step, exiting the trap zone. Every time he encountered a wooden stake or a snare, he would slash or kick it away.
Then, the wind blew from the front, clearing the smoke. Kizzel could smell Akasa on that wind.
"I will kill you and fillet you for sure!"
Kizzel moved in the direction of the scent. In that direction, a massive Red-Giant Tree stood tall toward the sky.
Akasa waited. For the enemy to approach. Hoping that he had been injured in the process.
And for his own heart to settle.
When he heard the angry shouts from afar, Akasa felt his breathing calm and turned his gaze.
[You are doing well, Akasa.]
"Thank you, Urnil."
He could see the dying embers of the fire in the distance. And before long, the wicked man who had considered himself a hunter appeared.
Akasa stood in front of the Red-Giant Tree, staff in hand. Kizzel spoke to him.
"You're impressive, kid. I've never been injured this much while hunting."
The anger disguised as leisure was palpable.
Akasa examined Kizzel’s body. Though he stood at an angle, trying to hide it, it was clear his left hand was injured. As proof, he was holding the sword he had been swinging with his left hand in his right.
"You are the enemy of the man who helped me."
"So?"
"He was the first adult who was ever kind to me when I met him in a place like this. He wasn't someone who should have died at the hands of someone like you...!"
Akasa’s eyes burned with rage.
"I will never forgive you."
A power as pale as moonlight settled into Akasa’s body.
"Fine. I’ll make sure to taste your meat today, no matter what."
Kizzel let out a bestial howl and swung his hand wide. At the same time, Akasa leaped far to the side.
"Argh!"
[I told you he would throw one!]
A dagger, flying at a terrifying speed, ricocheted off the spot where Akasa had been standing and flew far away. His physical abilities, reinforced by essence, made such instantaneous evasion possible. But it wasn't perfect, and the blade sliced through Akasa’s left calf.
Thinking he had caught an opening, Kizzel charged, swinging the sword he had taken from Akasa with his right hand.
However, Akasa waited calmly for his chance, even in the midst of it. It was a distance too ambiguous for Kizzel to throw the sword, and close enough to be caught by the staff Akasa was swinging.
Akasa gritted his teeth and endured Kizzel’s attack. Eventually, Kizzel took a gamble. He blocked the incoming staff and tried to grab Akasa.
That was exactly what Akasa had been aiming for. Just before Akasa, who had been pretending to push, attempted another attack.
[Now!]
Urnil’s signal filled his head.
The widely swung staff was caught in Kizzel’s hand. Unlike Hisoral, who had blocked it with his sturdily tempered ulna, Kizzel let out a groan as he received the staff. That was what Akasa had been aiming for.
Turning to the rear flank, he wound it around using the principle of a lever. Shifting the fulcrum with his rear hand. He thrust the staff forward as if stabbing.
'You really have talent.'
The moment Hisoral’s words echoed in his ears, Akasa realized the technique had landed perfectly. Kizzel was sent sprawling, his arms and face slamming into the ground. His face was filled with bewilderment. He didn't know how he, who should have had the chance to defend and counterattack, had been thrown aside by a child. That soon turned into rage.
"Ughhh! You damn brat!"
The moment Kizzel’s anger finally exploded, Akasa threw his entire body with all his might into the space beneath the roots of the massive Red-Giant Tree. Even with the moon shining brightly, the space beneath the tree, devoid of even a single ember, was dark.
"Ha, right. Hide-and-seek in the dark, is it? You cheeky little brat!"
Kizzel was now cackling, swinging his sword violently.
"Try hiding! The moment even a scrap of your clothes touches this trajectory, I’ll peel your skin off first!"
Kizzel shouted fiercely and squeezed his eyes shut. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness for a brief moment. These small things were the psychological warfare necessary for survival.
Kizzel opened his eyes and began to walk toward the space beneath the roots.
But what greeted him was the physical rejection of the darkness.
Something heavy and precise struck Kizzel’s abdomen hard. The intense pain knocked the air out of him, making it impossible to breathe. In front of Kizzel, who was convulsing and drooling while having even dropped his sword, stood the boy who should have been his prey, holding his staff, looking down at him with eyes harboring a pale flame. Even the wound on his left calf, where the blade had grazed him, showed no sign of injury despite the traces of blood.
[You held out well. It made it easy to deceive him.]
Urnil laughed, sounding satisfied.
Akasa spoke with a cold sternness that made it impossible to believe he was just a child.
"I told you. I would never forgive you."
"Guh... Ghugh..."
Kizzel tried to speak, but he couldn't. The strike had been so powerful that it had paralyzed his lungs.
It was a surprise attack that could never have been executed unless he had anticipated Kizzel closing his eyes. Kizzel thought that this boy was different from any prey he had hunted until now.
Then, Akasa picked up the sword he had received from the Sun’s Scout, which had been lying in front of Kizzel. He threw it beneath the roots of the Red-Giant Tree behind him.
"In this darkness, you won't be able to find your sword even if you want to. Unless you close your eyes again, that is."
'Was he expecting this too?'
Kizzel, who had asked the question in his thoughts rather than with words, thought this was a very stupid endeavor.
Thus, the words of the two people who could not understand each other crossed paths once again. Akasa gripped the staff with both hands as if it were a sword and raised it high.
"Not once. Not even once have I ever struck a person with all my might. Because I knew it would be dangerous."
"Ghugh..."
"But I think it’s okay to do it to you."
Akasa gritted his teeth and brought the staff down. But at that moment, the law that had brought Kizzel to this point in his pursuit of life favored Kizzel’s hand once again.
Kizzel bit his own tongue.
He didn't know why he possessed such an ability. But one thing was certain: Kizzel boosted his physical abilities by tasting human blood and flesh. That included his own blood and flesh. The effect was weak, but it was enough to awaken a body that had fallen into a state of incapacitation.
"Ughhhhhh!"
With a roar like a beast, Kizzel pushed off the ground with his arms and legs and rolled to the side. He felt pain in his half-broken fingers, but Kizzel didn't care and ran. His body was a wreck, and he felt sharp pain with every breath, making it difficult to move properly.
This was not the time to attack that opponent who looked so young.
Now, the boy was the hunter, and he was the prey.
Kizzel gritted his teeth, promising himself a future. There had been a 'very large loss,' but that would be resolved somehow later.
"Stop right there! You murderer! Don't run away like a coward!"
Kizzel felt his eyes widen with rage.
'Wait for me, you little brat. I'll be back soon. And then, you won't die easily.'
"If we meet again, I’ll carve the price of your sins into your body! Do you hear me! Do you hear me?!"
So that he could hear it no matter where he ran in the vast forest. Akasa screamed at the top of his lungs. Kizzel glared once in the direction of the Red-Giant Tree and fled into the night forest.
Akasa, who had been screaming, sat down and gasped for air. The anger and resentment he had been holding back. The joy of victory. The bitterness—it all erupted at once. He felt something touch his shoulder. A pale light of essence was leaving a large handprint on his shoulder.
[Well done, Akasa.]
There was no adult present, but there was one who wished to play the role of an adult. Akasa, his tension finally released, eventually sobbed for a long time at the touch of the God on his shoulder.