LX

Inside the modest RV parked at the edge of nowhere, Leora sat at the small table, her blonde hair catching the golden hues of the setting sun streaming through the curtains. Her attention was fixed on the laptop before her, the footage of Reynard’s recent match playing out on the screen.

Between her fingers, she idly twirled a tarot card depicting The Lovers. Its delicate illustration caught the fading light with each rotation, mirroring the thoughts turning over in her mind.

The Hunter Association’s broadcast came to an end, the screen fading to black.

With a soft sigh, Leora closed the laptop, letting the quiet of the desert evening settle around her. Her gaze drifted across the room to a sight that always brought a mix of pride and trepidation.

Two-year-old Leon sat on the floor, his tiny hands cradling a flickering orb of fire. The flame danced and shimmered, responding to his movements with uncanny precision. His giggles punctuated the air, his joy at mastering this newfound toy infectious.

Leora leaned back in her chair, a faint smile gracing her lips. Leon’s aura manipulation was effortless, instinctive—a gift far beyond anything she had seen in a child his age. She knew it was likely a blend of her own aura affinity and whatever Reynard had unknowingly passed down.

Yet, with that gift came an enormous weight.

Her smile faded as she studied her son, the tarot card now clutched tightly in her hand. The Elsewhere Cult’s relentless pursuit of Leon was a constant shadow over their lives. She didn’t know why they wanted him, but the thought of them finding him made her blood run cold. Reynard, despite his cryptic warnings, had been frustratingly tight-lipped about their motives.

Leora frowned, bitterness bubbling to the surface. Reynard needed to be more forthcoming. He owed her that much.

She folded her arms, the tarot card forgotten for a moment. When did Reynard even become a hunter? The question had nagged at her ever since their paths had crossed again. For years, she had assumed he was mundane, outside the dangerous world of hunters. But now? He was deeply entrenched in it—enough to assign her babysitting duties, of all things.

The sound of Leon’s giggles pulled her from her thoughts. Her Seeker Eyes activated instinctively, analyzing the orb of fire in her son’s hands.

Her heart skipped a beat. The orb was growing hotter, its energy intensifying rapidly.

In an instant, Leora was in motion. She scooped Leon into her arms, her superhuman speed carrying them both out of the RV in a blur. The heat of the orb pressed against her aura, but she didn’t falter.

Once outside, she gently pried the fiery orb from Leon’s tiny hands. Her son squealed in delight, entirely unbothered by the dangerous situation.

“Let’s see how you like this, little troublemaker,” she muttered under her breath, focusing her aura on the volatile flame.

Fire wasn’t her specialty, but she’d practiced enough to know how to diffuse it. Channeling her aura, she converted the flames into harmless heat waves, letting them dissipate into the cool desert air. It drained her reserves more than she liked, but the danger was neutralized.

With a soft shimmer, the orb vanished, leaving only the faint warmth of the desert breeze.

“Whew,” Leora exhaled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Leon let out a triumphant cheer, his little arms flailing. “Who~oooz!” he exclaimed, mimicking the sound of rushing wind.

Leora shook her head, a tired smile on her lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, kid.”

She carried Leon back to the RV, her steps slower now. By the time they reached the door, he had fallen asleep in her arms, his tiny form peaceful and still.

Carefully, she placed him in his crib—a special construct made of ore from the Forbidden Region. The material suppressed aura manipulation, making it the perfect safeguard for her precocious son.

It wouldn’t hold against an experienced aura master, but for now, it was enough to keep Leon’s random outburst contained.

As she adjusted his blankets, a sudden knock at the RV door made her freeze. Her instincts flared, and her hand shot to the katana resting within reach. Unsheathing it in one fluid motion, she approached the door cautiously.

With her free hand, she cracked it open.

Relief flooded her as she saw Stefan’s familiar face. The older man, with his weathered features and calm demeanor, was a welcome sight.

“Leora,” he said, his voice steady. “May I come in?”

Stefan stepped into the RV without hesitation, his presence filling the modest space. Dropping into the nearest chair with a practiced ease, he glanced around before fixing Leora with his steady gaze.

“Your tails are either dead or they’ve withdrawn,” he said, his gruff voice breaking the silence. “Your husband did excellently in the exams. President Bob himself is looking forward to having him join the Hunting Dogs… or so I’ve last heard.”

Leora froze mid-motion. The Hunting Dogs?

Her grip on the katana tightened as anger flared in her chest. “What? The Hunting Dogs?”

Stefan’s expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, so you didn’t know,” he said, leaning back slightly. “I thought he’d already told you. Or maybe Selena? She didn’t mention it either?”

“Whose idea is it?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

Stefan shrugged, his tone infuriatingly casual. “It’s your husband, Reynard. I’m guessing he plans to use the Hunting Dogs’ resources to go after the organization targeting your family.”

Leora’s jaw clenched. The Hunting Dogs weren’t just another hunter faction—they were an elite group, infamous for their ruthless methods and their policy of loyalty unto death. No one left the Hunting Dogs easily. She knew that better than anyone.

“No wonder he told you it would take roughly three years,” Stefan added, his voice tinged with admiration. “That’s some dedication.”

Leora said nothing, her thoughts spinning. Reynard’s secrecy, his relentless determination, and now this revelation about the Hunting Dogs—it all painted a picture she wasn’t sure she liked.

Her mind drifted to her own time with the Hunting Dogs. The memories she had recovered were raw, vivid, and steeped in blood. According to Stefan, the organization had supposedly "tamed" since her departure, but Leora knew better. The Hunting Dogs didn’t do tame. Her escape had been a miracle—a rare, conditional retirement granted by the President himself after years of grueling service.

And now Reynard was willingly stepping into that same den of wolves.

Steeling herself, Leora pulled out her phone and called Selena. If anyone could provide clarity—or chaos—it was her best friend. She put the call on speaker, allowing Stefan to listen in.

The moment the line connected, the first sounds were unmistakably inappropriate.

From the phone came sultry moans, rhythmic slapping, and absurdly cheesy background music.

Selena’s voice followed, dripping with faux passion. “Awww~ rail me, Rey! Do it! Shoot it!”

Then Reynard’s voice joined in, slightly breathless. “I am about there… huff…”

Leora’s eye twitched. Her patience was thin but steady. “Stop with the pranks, Selena.”

A snort of laughter came through the speaker, followed by a dramatic sigh. “So boring…”

Selena’s antics were relentless. Her shapeshifting abilities, ventriloquism, and penchant for chaos made her a natural at espionage. But her greatest skill was sowing discord wherever she went.

Leora had grown resistant to Selena’s games over the years, but Stefan wasn’t as practiced. He was doing his best to suppress a chuckle, his shoulders shaking as he grinned.

“Get serious,” Leora said, her voice sharp. “We need to talk about Reynard.”

“Ugh, fine,” Selena replied, her tone mock-dramatic. “Way to ruin my fun.”

Leora sighed, her exasperation growing. “Is it true? Reynard is joining the Hunting Dogs?”

Selena’s playful tone turned more serious. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine. And, for what it’s worth, I entered a formal contract with him. You can trust me to have his back.”

Stefan scratched his head awkwardly. “Sorry, I slipped up about the Hunting Dogs part.”

A familiar voice came through the phone, one that made Leora’s breath hitch. “It’s fine, Stefan,” Reynard said. “Leora deserves to know.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Reynard? Is that you? Or is Selena playing some elaborate prank?”

Selena huffed indignantly, but Leora pressed on. “Can we do a video call?”

Stefan interjected, “No can do. This is the best we’ve got right now. The cult that’s after you has competent techies, and we can’t risk them intercepting anything.”

Leora narrowed her eyes at the phone. “Reynard, prove it’s really you and not Selena messing with me.”

There was a brief pause before Reynard replied smoothly, “You have a mole under your left breast.”

Leora’s face turned crimson. She instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the phone. “Damn it, Reynard!”

Stefan coughed awkwardly, pretending not to notice, while Selena burst into laughter.

“Oh, he definitely knows his way around you, Leora,” Selena teased, her tone brimming with mischief.

Leora buried her face in her hands. “I hate all of you right now.”

But beneath her frustration, a small smile tugged at her lips. Reynard’s voice, his determination—it reminded her why she had fallen in love with him in the first place.

Leora stepped away from the RV, her light attribute flaring briefly as she darted across the barren desert. She stopped far enough that the vehicle was out of sight and brought the phone to her ear.

“Reynard, clear?”

“Clear,” he replied, his voice steady.

Her words came out sharp and fast. “Are you really Reynard? The one I knew? Not some cryptid or shapeshifter?”

“I am Reynard,” he said evenly. “No tricks, no doubles.”

Leora let out a frustrated sigh. “You’ve changed so much. The hunter side of you… I barely recognize it. But you owe me the truth. All of it.”

“I know,” he admitted. “And I will. Just not yet. I need to make sure you and Leon are safe first.”

Leora paced the dusty ground outside the RV, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. The desert wind tugged at her hair, carrying with it the faint smell of sand and sagebrush. Her voice cut through the static on the line, sharp and unyielding.

“Do you know why the hell this cult is hunting our boy?”

Reynard’s response was careful, his tone steady but wary. “Where did that come from?”

Leora exhaled sharply, her free hand clenching into a fist. “I’m not stupid, Rey. At first, I thought the hit was for me—some vendetta from my past. But after these last few months with Leon… I’ve realized it’s not me. It’s him. They’ve been after him from the start.”

There was a long pause on the other end, the silence heavy with unspoken truths. Finally, Reynard sighed, his voice laced with exhaustion.

“Because Leon will grow to become a powerful hunter in the future,” he admitted. “At some point, the cult will clash with him, and Leon will burn them until they’re nothing but ash.”

Leora stopped pacing, her breath catching. “I… I don’t understand.”

“It’s hard to believe, I know,” Reynard said softly. “But it’s the truth. The two of us… we’re meant to die. Ten years after Leon was born, we’ll be gone. And he’ll be left to face them alone.”

His voice cracked, and Leora felt her chest tighten, the weight of his words settling over her like a lead blanket.

“I don’t want that future for him,” Reynard continued, his tone thick with emotion. “I’m doing everything I can to change it. To keep us all together.”

“Is it… a definite future?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Reynard admitted. “But I can’t risk it. I have to fight to give him a chance at something better.”

Leora’s grip on the phone tightened, her knuckles turning white. The enormity of what he was saying threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to focus.

“And you think you can stop it? Change everything?”

“I have to try,” Reynard said firmly. Then, as if to lighten the moment, he added, “Besides, Leon’s going to grow up to be strong, dependable… and, well, a chick magnet.”

Leora let out a startled laugh, the absurdity of his comment breaking through her tension. “A chick magnet? That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Hey, it’s not hard to imagine,” Reynard replied, a hint of his usual charm slipping through. “He’s already got the Bright family charisma.”

Her laughter faded into a bittersweet smile. “You better come back, Reynard. For me. For Leon. Don’t you dare leave me to raise this ‘chick magnet’ alone.”

“I will, Leora,” Reynard said, his voice steady and resolute. “I promise.”

A heavy silence hung between them for a moment before Reynard spoke again, his tone tinged with regret.

“Leora… I might not be able to contact you for the next few months. I’ve been meaning to tell you about my decision to join the Hunting Dogs. I decided not to join in the end. But the hunt isn’t over. To protect you and Leon, I need more power—either the strength of one of the Seven Extremes or the backing of the entire Hunter’s Association. I’m sorry for being so unfair to you.”

Leora’s heart ached at his words, a swirl of anger, fear, and pride rising within her. Her hand trembled as she held the phone, but her voice remained steady.

“When the fighting gets tough,” she whispered, “you call for me, okay?”

There was a pause, and then Reynard’s voice came through, soft but certain. “I will. That’s what the tarot card is for… isn’t it?”

Leora glanced down at the Lovers card in her hand. Its edges were worn, its surface faintly glowing with her aura. She’d reforged it time and time again, shaping it into a weapon and a symbol of their connection.

“You better keep that promise,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“I will, Leora,” Reynard replied. “I swear.”

As the call ended, Leora stood alone in the desert, the wind whipping around her. She held the card close to her chest, its faint glow a reminder of the bond they shared.

For Leon. For Reynard. For their family. She would see this through.

The RV came into view, parked in the barren expanse of the desert. Slowing her pace, Leora stepped inside, her eyes darting around.

Empty.

Her pulse quickened as panic set in. “W-what?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The sound of a flush broke the silence, and the restroom door creaked open. Stefan stepped out, holding Leon in his arms. The baby looked content, his cheeks flushed pink and his tiny hands gripping Stefan’s shirt.

Leora exhaled sharply, relief flooding her system. “Gee… I’m overreacting…”

Stefan raised an eyebrow, looking amused. “What’s that about?”

“You scared me, Stefan,” Leora admitted, brushing a hand through her hair.

Stefan chuckled, shifting Leon in his arms. “Relax. The little guy was fussing, so I changed his diaper. Figured I’d give you a break.”

Leora let out a soft laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing. “Thanks. I—”

Her words were cut off by a sudden, sickening sound.

Stefan’s head exploded in a shower of blood and bone, his body going limp as Leon slipped from his grasp.

Leora’s Seeker Aura screamed in alarm, a visceral warning that sent her diving forward. She caught Leon mid-air, clutching him protectively as she rolled across the floor.

The RV shook violently as a massive force tore through it, slicing the roof open with a sound like thunder. The cold night air rushed in, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood.

Leora scrambled to her feet, holding Leon tightly. Her eyes darted upward, where the sky was now fully exposed.

Stefan’s body slumped to its knees, blood pooling beneath it. The figure behind him stepped into the dim light, his presence suffocating.

Long, disheveled white hair framed a face marked by countless battles. His bare chest was a canvas of scars, and he wore tattered trousers that clung to his massive frame. In his hand, he held a single-edged greatsword—a Nodachi that gleamed with menace.

The blade dripped with Stefan’s blood, its edge razor-sharp.

Leora’s breath hitched as recognition struck her like a blow to the chest. Her voice trembled, a mixture of shock and dread.

“Extreme Fighter Ranas…”

The name left her lips in a hoarse whisper.

Ranas tilted his head, his cold, unfeeling gaze fixed on her. The air around him seemed to hum with power, his Fighter Aura pressing down like an oppressive weight.

“Hand over the boy,” Ranas said, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of finality.

Leora’s grip on Leon tightened, her Seeker Aura flaring in response. “Over my dead body.”

Ranas smirked, the expression twisting his scarred face into a grim mask of amusement. “That can be arranged.”

Leora’s heart pounded as she steeled herself, every fiber of her being screaming at her to protect her son. The air crackled with tension, the inevitability of battle hanging heavy.

She wouldn’t let this monster take Leon.

Not now. Not ever.

~060