Next Day:- Hunter's Guild; Black Fang City
The Hunter's Guild Hall in Black Fang City filled with steel,hope and ambition. William stood near the registration desk, his knuckles white around the hilt of a short sword—unusual for a hunter who also wielded a bow in his back. Jax hovered beside him, arms crossed, brows furrowed.
"You sure about this, Will?" Jax muttered. "You want to challenge Rorik 'The Bone-Crusher' . I was informed about him; he doesn't spar. He ends people."
William didn't answer. His ribs still ached from last skirmish—a dull, persistent throb beneath his muscles—but the bruises had faded to faint shadows. The crimson drop from the locket increased his healing ability not full regeneration; some improvement but no miracle.
Rorik loommed like a slab of granite carved into human form. His arms were corded with muscle, his nose crooked from too many breaks, and his grin was all teeth. "You?"
he shouted, laughter rumbling in his chest. "A twig like you wants to challenge me? Save your credit and crawl back to your mother's cellar."
The clerk snickered, stamping a form with exaggerated slowness with Rorik's signature.
Then 'click-click' the sound of polished boots on floor .
A girl stepped forward, red hair like embers, eyes sharp blue of glacier ice. She wore a tailored hunter's coat, insignia-less but spotless.
"Clause 12, Subsection B," she said coolly, voice cutting through the noise like a scalpel. "Any public challenge formally registered under Clause 12 must be answered within the same cycle. Refusal constitutes automatic forfeiture and tier demotion."
Rorik's grin faltered. "Who the hell are you?"
"Natasha Taemer. Guild-certified strategist hunter. And witness of this drama unfolding here ." She tapped her fingers against her folded arms."Your name's already inked. You fight—or you fall."
The crowd erupted. Whispers swirled like dust devils. "Rorik's being forced to fight a Tier 0?"
The duel ring was cleared in minutes.William stepped inside, heart hammering—not from fear, but determination.
The ring is a stark circle in the center of chaos with Stone floor and iron-bound ropes, . Rorik cracked his neck, hefts a spiked maul. William standed still, short sword held low. The crowd leaned in, breath held.
The official from the hunter's guild signed to start the battle.
William's POV:
Rorik charged at me like a bull—no teqnique ,all fury. The maul whistled through the air, aimed to cave in my skull.
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William didn't dodged .Not yet. He waited for the perfect moment. He felt the tremor in the floor, the shift in air pressure. At the last heartbeat, he sidesteped and "Dragon's Lash. "
The force stored in his coiled muscles channels through steel. His short sword flicked upward, not to block, but to redirect. The flat of the blade kissed the maul's haft, guiding its momentum past him. Rorik stumbles forward, off-balance. The crowd cheered for a spectacular fight.
Sweat flowed down from Rorik's brow. William's green eyes burning like ember. His sword arm snapped back, then forward like a striking viper.
William's POV:
After redirecting Rorik's attack i used my short sword not for cutting or swinging but for hammering.
Using the short sword like the war hammer I diverted the pommel into Rorik's temple.
Once. Twice.
Bone crunched. Rorik bellowed, swinging wildly—but i was already behind him. A third strike to the base of the skull. The big man dropped like a felled oak, twitching once before going still.
Silence. Then—roar. Cheers erupted in the crowd. My first victory in front of so many people. "Maybe first step towards the hunter Ascension contest. " I thought.
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William stood over Rorik, chest heaving, sword tip resting on the stone. Not a scratch on him. The crowd chanted his name with awe.
"That Tier 0… took down Rorik?"
Later, in the cooling dusk at the guild's back gate, after upgrading his bracelet colour from red to orange hue,the adrenaline rush ended.
Natasha walked between them, hands in her coat pockets. "You just put a target on your back," she teased, glancing at William.
He smirked. "Then they better aim well."
Jax chuckled, clapping William on the shoulder—carefully, mindful of the ribs. "You fight like a madman with a grudge."
"I fight like someone who doesn't want to die tomorrow," William replies.
Natasha studied him. "Most Tier 0s challenge weaklings. You picked the strongest. Why?"
William didn't gave any answer. His hand drifted to the broken locket beneath his shirt.
Before Natasha could press further—
*A faint whistle cuts through the noise.*
Instinct flared jolt up William's spine. His hand flied toward his sword, but too late.
A black dart streaked past, grazing his left shoulder. It embedded in the wooden gatepost behind him with a soft thunk. Smoke curled from the impact point. The wood blackened, sizzles.
"Will!" Jax yelled, shoving him sideways.
Natasha shouted . "Down! That's Black Venom!"
William dropped to one knee, fingers clutching his shoulder. The graze burnt—not like fire, but like frostbite in reverse. Cold fire. The world tilted.
"Black Venom?" Jax hissed, drawing his sword, scanning the rooftops. "That's Tier 3 assassin-grade toxin! Who the hell—?"
"Doesn't matter," Natasha snapped ,already kneeling beside William. Her fingers pressed hard around the wound, trying to prevent the poison from spreading. "It's acting fast. Paralytic, then cardiac arrest. Ten minutes, max."
William tried to speak, but his tongue felt thick. His heartbeat—once a drum in his ears—slowing down.
Thud… thud… thud…
Each pulse weaker than the last.
William's POV:
Colors blurred .Natasha's red hair blurred into the dusk. Jax's voice sounded underwater. His ribs ached ;not from old wounds, but from the poison clawing inward. He tasted copper. Saw flashes: the locket, the dart's black feather vanishing into shadow.
He tried to stand. Legs didn't obey.
"Stay with me," Natasha ordered, her voice sharp but not panicked. She pulled out a vial from her coat—clear liquid, faintly glowing. "Incomplete antidode. Only slow down the poison. We need a healer. Now."
Jax cursed, scanning the alley. "No one's coming. They'll wait for us to run."
William's vision flickered red at the edges.
Not from rage.
Not from magic.
Poison.
Jax kneeled on his other side, pressing a hand to William's back. "Come on, brother. You just beat Rorik. Don't let some coward's dart take you now."
Natasha said, voice low and fierce," Fight not with your sword ; With your will ."
Above them, a shadow from a rooftop started throwing darts . Silent. Deadly.
Jax saw it first. "Move!"
Natasha grabbed William under the arms.
"Can you run?" Natasha hissed.
William swayed, vision swimming, but nods. Every step was agony. His legs felt like jelly, his blood like sludge. But he moved.One foot. Then the other.
Behind them, the assassin landed lightly on the floor, twin daggers gleaming.
William gritted his teeth, clutching his shoulder. The poison whispered in his mind : "Sleep. Surrender."
He won't surrender.
Not today .
Not tomorrow.
Not ever.
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Who is the assassin? Why he want to kill William? Who sent the assassin after William? Comment down your thoughts.
For knowing what happened to William read the future chapters releasing daily .
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