Chapter 15 – The Weight of Masks
As Valen stepped out of the portal, he walked calmly, hands in his pockets, as if he had just come back from grocery shopping.
Around him, the hunters were in disarray: magical alarms still blared, and the waves of the portal struggled to stabilize. High-ranking members watched the scene from a suspended platform.
Zarion was waiting for him, arms crossed, leaning against a wall, looking bored.
> — You sure took your time, Divine Hunter.
Valen shrugged.
> — I ran into some things muttering about being cosmic deities trying to convince me I'm one of them. You know, the usual nonsense. You would've loved it.
Zarion allowed himself a faint smile.
> — At least you cleaned up, right?
> — Obviously. And I won a bet against myself.
He showed a pack of ramen sticking out of his pocket.
> — You can't imagine the boredom in there. Seriously, I fought something with seven arms and zero logic. It was talking about anti-creation while I was comboing it like Street Fighter.
A brief silence followed… until a familiar voice broke it.
> — Still as talkative as ever, Valen.
They turned.
A man approached, sharp-eyed, an electric aura surrounding him. Short midnight-blue hair, piercing gaze. He wore a distinctive insignia: Transcendental-Rank Hunter.
> — Naël, Zarion muttered quietly.
Valen frowned.
> — Oh no… not him.
Naël stopped a few meters away, an arrogant smile glued to his face.
> — I heard the so-called "Divine Hunter" was showing off in unstable portals. Scared of competition, huh?
Valen sighed.
> — You're still alive, Naël. Incredible.
> — Guess you haven't changed either. Still playing the mysterious type when you don't even know who you really are.
Valen stepped closer, hands still in his pockets.
> — Funny coming from you. You lost to a Rank A entity last year, remember? I saw the replay. You flew better than an anime protagonist.
Naël clenched his teeth, then smiled provocatively.
> — Me? The great Naël, losing to a Rank A monster? You must be mistaken — or still dreaming.
Zarion stayed silent, observing.
Tension rose. Eyes turned. The other hunters gathered, the air crackling.
Valen stepped back and raised an eyebrow.
> — Just look at you… what a pretentious guy. Who do you even think you are?
He tilted his head slightly toward Zarion and whispered:
> — …If I punch him, you'll cover for me, right, Zarion?
Zarion lifted a brow, impassive.
> — No promises.
Naël gave a cold smile.
> — I challenge you, Valen. Tomorrow morning. I'll show you why I'm a Transcendental-Rank Hunter.
Valen replied instantly, a half-smile curling on his lips.
> — Deal. But you seem a bit too confident just because of your title. We'll see if that "Transcendental Rank" of yours actually means something.
Naël nodded slowly.
> — We'll see tomorrow morning.
The two men locked eyes, a ripple of murmurs spreading through the crowd.
The duel was set.
---
Chapter 16 – Clash of Egos
The next morning, at precisely nine o'clock,
the ground trembled faintly.
Two elite hunters faced each other in the vast inner courtyard, surrounded by eager spectators. Some members of the Guild couldn't even hide their grins — a duel between Valen and Naël was pure entertainment.
Zarion stood back, leaning against a wall as usual, arms crossed, studying every movement like a tactician.
Valen twirled his sword lazily, looking half-bored, as if debating whether to fight or grab a coffee.
> — Ready to embarrass yourself in front of everyone, Naël?
Naël, dressed in a light black assassin's cape, smiled calmly.
> — You've always been a clown, Valen. Time to come back down to earth.
Without warning, Naël attacked — a spear of black lightning shot from his hand, scorching the air.
Valen sidestepped effortlessly, still wearing that mocking grin.
In an instant, Naël was in front of him, his blade flashing down.
Valen blocked with precision and taunted:
> — You've improved. Found the "quick attack" button, finally.
Valen leapt forward, his blade gleaming silver.
Their swords clashed violently, a shockwave blasting back the nearest spectators.
Each strike was fast, fierce, surgical.
Every impact sparked with raw magic.
Naël swung downward — Valen parried and countered hard.
Naël was thrown back, flipping midair before landing gracefully.
Without pause, he summoned radiant chains — Celestial Shackles — hurling them at Valen before lunging with a punch.
The blow sent Valen skidding backward, but he stabbed his sword into the ground to halt himself.
Naël reappeared instantly, slashing again —
Valen dodged with fluid motion, spun, and delivered a sharp kick.
Naël backflipped to evade, but Valen, riding the momentum, appeared before him and drove a fist into his gut.
Naël flew several meters back.
The crowd roared.
The hunters screamed in excitement — the duel was spectacular.
Naël stood up slowly, smirking.
> — Not bad, Valen… maybe you have earned that title.
He sheathed his weapon and added:
> — This isn't the right place to continue. We'd cause too much damage.
I'll admit defeat — for now.
A hush fell for a second before cheers erupted.
Some hunters whistled; others shouted in delight.
Naël stepped back, eyes gleaming.
> — You win this time…
> — Like all the others, yeah, Valen replied with a wink.
Zarion, still leaning against the wall, observed without moving.
A faint smile crossed his face.
> — He might have more potential than I thought, he murmured to himself.
---
Chapter 17 – An Invitation to Duel
The air still buzzed with energy after the Valen–Naël battle.
Hunters chattered, replaying moves, already betting on a rematch.
Valen, the center of attention, calmly sheathed his sword into his inner space, then turned toward the corner where Zarion stood, arms crossed as always, detached as if none of this mattered.
Valen smirked, a mix of mischief and curiosity.
> — And you, Zarion… don't you want to fight me too?
Silence.
Even whispers stopped. All eyes shifted to them.
Naël, mid-sip of water, nearly choked. "Perfect… does he ever think before talking?" he thought grimly.
Zarion slowly lifted his head, raising a brow.
> — Why bother, when you've barely even broken a sweat?
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, but Valen, unfazed, walked closer.
> — You're too calm… it's suspicious. You were watching like you were evaluating a report. It's frustrating.
Zarion shrugged.
> — You want to test me, is that it?
> — Maybe.
Or maybe I just want to see what's behind that "too cool to care" face.
Admit it — you've got fangs hidden somewhere.
Zarion looked away, hesitating.
> — Not here. Not now.
Valen blinked.
> — You're not scared, are you?
> — I choose my moments.
And my opponents.
Valen crossed his arms, amused.
> — Interesting... Maybe you're more dangerous than you let on.
I'll be keeping an eye on you.
He turned and walked off casually, greeting a few hunters on the way out.
Zarion stayed silent.
But a new spark flickered in his eyes.
---
Chapter 18 – A Theatrical Kind of Sadness
The next day, the Hunters' HQ buzzed with tension.
Rumors of potential portals spread fast. High-ranking officers gathered urgently while Rank A and S hunters honed their weapons in the training yard.
Zarion sat on a railing, quietly observing the chaos.
He held a cup of lukewarm tea someone had mistakenly given him — he hated tea, but said nothing. All he wanted was peace.
It didn't last.
A familiar voice, mockingly mournful, echoed behind him:
> — I'm heartbroken, Zarion… you refused my duel yesterday.
Zarion exhaled and turned.
> — Good morning to you too, Valen.
Valen approached dramatically, one hand over his chest.
> — You wound me deeply, truly.
I've fought interdimensional horrors, survived hellish dungeons…
but nothing hurts more than your rejection.
> — And yet, here you are — alive, and still talking.
> — A miracle, isn't it?
Zarion rolled his eyes, a faint smile betraying his amusement.
> — Do you really want to fight, or are you just bored?
> — A bit of both.
But mostly, I get the feeling you're not ordinary. And that's been bugging me.
Zarion stood, drained his cup, and looked at him calmly.
> — You always need to understand everything, don't you?
> — Nah.
But I like finding out for myself.
And a good fight's an honest way to know someone, right?
Zarion studied him for a moment, then replied:
> — Not today, Valen.
Valen smiled, more genuinely this time.
> — Then I'll wait.
But the longer you make me wait, the more I'll want to smash your face in.
> — That'd be bad for your ego, said Zarion flatly.
Just then, another familiar voice came from the entrance.
> — Still weird as ever, Valen.
Naël appeared, bag slung over his shoulder, looking amused but tired. He approached the pair and raised a hand.
> — Just here to say goodbye. I got a mission — leaving in a few hours.
See you around, bro. And you too, Zarion.
Valen smirked, high-fiving him.
> — Good luck, still as arrogant and stubborn as ever, I see.
Zarion gave a slight nod.
> — See you next time, Naël. Come back in one piece.
Naël smiled and walked off down the hall. Silence lingered behind him.
Valen sighed theatrically.
> — Guess he's becoming an adult, huh?
> — Or he just has better things to do than provoke everyone, said Zarion.
Valen laughed.
> — You mean he's boring.
You too, by the way… but don't worry, I'll loosen you up someday.
Zarion shook his head, faintly amused despite himself.
Valen walked off, whistling, hands in his pockets.
Zarion stayed, eyes on the clouds above HQ.
A soft breeze passed, and his expression grew thoughtful.
> — "A theatrical kind of sadness," huh… he murmured.
---
Chapter 19 – A Chill in the Air
The next day.
The sky was clear.
Too clear.
Not a cloud, not a breath of wind. An eerie stillness hung in the air — as if even the atmosphere was holding its breath.
Inside the Hunters' HQ, in the control room, the atmosphere was tense.
Monitors flashed endlessly, data overflowing.
A deep alarm blared, then abruptly cut off.
> — It's not a Rank S… not even SSS, muttered a technician, pale.
— Then what the hell is that energy spike?!
No one had an answer.
Hunters exchanged uneasy looks.
Something outside had just brushed against the boundary between the real world and the unknown.
Meanwhile, on the outer terrace, Valen leaned on the railing, staring at the horizon.
The air shimmered faintly around him.
> — You feel that, Zarion? he asked without turning.
Zarion, a few steps behind, raised his gaze to the sky.
His silver eyes reflected the subtle ripples of energy.
> — Yes… he murmured.
It feels like an unstable tear. Not natural.
Valen smiled, his expression contrasting the tension around them.
> — Looks like things are about to get interesting, huh?
An invisible shiver ran through the world.
Then, without warning, a blinding flash split the heavens.
The ground shook, alarms screamed.
Before the HQ, the very air cracked open.
A portal appeared — vast, circular, and so black it swallowed light itself.
It looked as though an invisible hand had ripped a piece from the sky.
But it wasn't a normal portal.
It didn't roar.
It didn't pulse.
It silenced the world around it — even sound was devoured.
A chill crept up every hunter's spine. Even breathing felt heavy.
> — I don't recognize this frequency, said Valen, drawing his sword instinctively.
— It's not a standard threat… nor dungeon-related, Zarion replied quietly.
> — Then what do you think it is? asked Valen.
Zarion stared at the rift. Energy fragments twisted around it, spiraling in chaotic patterns. His pupils glowed faintly blue.
> — A call.
Valen raised an eyebrow.
> — A call?
> — Yes. Not an accident.
Someone — or something — is trying to get attention.
Maybe a trap… or an invitation.
Before Valen could answer, the air rippled once more.
A silhouette emerged from the portal.
It wasn't a monster.
It wasn't even human.
It was a presence — a being shrouded in shifting shadow, its body made of liquid reflections that refused to stay solid.
When it spoke, it wasn't a voice — it was a resonance, a whisper in every language at once, as if the world itself tried to comprehend it.
> — "The Essence awakens…"
The hunters instinctively backed away.
> — What the hell is that?! one of them shouted.
Valen, instead of retreating, stepped forward.
His starry eyes reflected the portal's glow, a spark of pure excitement lighting his face.
> — Finally, a real warm-up…
He tilted his head toward Zarion, grinning wolfishly.
> — You staying here, or are you coming too, "mysterious stranger"?
Zarion sighed, his fingers tightening slightly.
> — You'll get yourself killed if you rush in alone.
> — That's what I'm counting on! Valen shouted, laughing.
Before Zarion could stop him, Valen leapt forward.
His blade shone silver, slicing through the air toward the figure.
The impact shook the earth.
A surge of energy blasted outward, hurling hunters back.
Zarion, eyes fixed on the explosion, clenched his fists.
A flash of blue rippled through his irises.
> — …Reckless.
But impressive, he murmured, before dashing forward himself.