Hunt Race

The hunter stood motionless in the middle of the arena, his glaive hanging heavily from his hands.

His chest rose and fell rapidly.

Every breath felt heavier than the last.

He tried to straighten his back, but his body refused to cooperate. His legs felt strangely heavy, and even keeping the glaive raised had become a struggle.

He looked down at his hands.

They were trembling.

"What's happening to me...?"

He tightened his grip.

The glaive barely moved.

The hunter's brows furrowed.

He had fought through exhaustion before. He knew what his body felt like when he was reaching his limit.

This wasn't normal.

He looked toward Kael.

Kael was standing several meters away, completely relaxed, his sword lowered casually at his side.

Not a single sign of exhaustion showed on his face.

The hunter's eyes narrowed.

Then his gaze shifted toward his side.

The wound.

Blood had soaked through his clothes where Phantom Edge had cut him.

He stared at it.

For several seconds, his mind went back to the moment it happened.

That slash.

The first blood.

And then...

Everything had started going wrong.

At first, he had thought it was fatigue.

Then his attacks had started losing their speed.

His breathing had become heavier.

His legs had begun to feel like they were carrying weights.

Even his techniques were collapsing before they could properly form.

The hunter's eyes widened.

"It started after..."

He slowly touched the wound.

"The blood."

Kael's eyes remained on him.

The hunter looked toward Kael's hand.

The black crescent on his palm gave off a faint pulse.

His expression changed.

"So that's what you meant."

Kael said nothing.

The hunter remembered the words Kael had spoken before the fight.

Don't let me bleed you.

At the time, he had thought it was arrogance.

A ridiculous attempt to intimidate him.

Now he understood.

Kael had known.

The hunter's face tightened.

"You knew what would happen if you drew my blood."

Kael tilted his head slightly.

"I had an idea."

The hunter stared at him.

An idea?

That was all?

He had been fighting a battle where every drop of blood he lost was making him weaker, while Kael had been getting more comfortable with every passing moment.

The hunter looked at his glaive.

He tried to raise it again.

His arm trembled violently.

The weapon barely reached shoulder height before his strength gave out and the blade dropped.

CLANG!

The sound echoed across the arena.

The crowd immediately became restless.

"What's wrong with him?"

"His hands are shaking."

"He can't even hold the glaive properly."

The hunter gritted his teeth.

He refused to let them see him like this.

He forced his body forward.

One step.

His leg nearly buckled.

He caught himself and tried another.

The movement was painfully slow.

Kael watched without moving.

The hunter stopped.

He finally understood.

There was no point continuing.

Every second he remained in the fight, the connection would keep draining what he needed to keep fighting.

And Kael?

Kael wasn't even breathing heavily.

The hunter lowered his head.

His pride fought against the reality standing in front of him.

He had challenged Kael because he believed a Bronze hunter couldn't possibly have killed a Silver beast.

He had wanted to expose him.

Instead, he had walked into a fight where Kael had taken control without ever being pushed to his limit.

The hunter slowly raised his head.

"I..."

His voice was quiet.

The arena fell silent.

The hunter tightened his jaw.

Then he lowered the glaive completely.

"I forfeit."

The words echoed through the arena.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then the crowd erupted.

"He forfeited!"

"After all that?"

"That blood really was the reason!"

"Kael warned him before the fight!"

The hunter closed his eyes for a moment, accepting the humiliation.

Kael simply lowered his sword.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"I told you."

The hunter opened his eyes and glared at him.

Kael's smile widened slightly.

The hunter looked away.

There was nothing left to prove.

He had lost.

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