17. The Hunter
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Chapter 17 - The Hunter


Ronan had a distant expression as though he wasn't present mentally. "Seems like you people have some beef with Banage. What could a demoness like you possibly want with a nobleman?" He raised his chin in defiance, refusing to cooperate. He was the party's hunter. His job was to gather information on foes and to hunt the enemy, and he took pride in being the top member in that category.

Despite that, his main weapon was the sword—no spear, no bow, no whip—just a normal sword. I thought him dumb for focusing on one skill when he could be equally skilled with multiple. He had the body of a warrior, an experienced man who would never go down without a fight. And although he usually seemed calm, he was known for being the shortest temper of the group, even more so than the berserker and the assassin.

In terms of battle skills, he was definitely on the lower end, but still a formidable opponent nonetheless.

"Take a look outside, and you'll see why," I answered, raising my weapon at him.

"Oh? Whether what he does is evil or good, as long as I've been paid, I don't give a fuck," he replied matter-of-factly. "It's simply business to me."

Ronan was always like this. Greed drove him.

A sick smile crept up onto his face. He tightened his grip on the handle of his sword. "Maybe I can accept the offer if you give yourself as a price?" He wagged his eyebrows and in an instant, swung at me with great speed. "Ahahahahaha, I know you're not my type, but..."

I leaned backward and dodged the downward strike of the blade. A shallow cut appeared on my right collarbone, stinging slightly as blood trickled down the gash.

I grunted, having taken a cut by accident. But luckily, his attack was focused on me. Ronan lunged forward and attempted to skewer me with his sword. I ducked, evading the attack, and spun around his frame. His form disappeared within seconds.

As he re-emerged, I dashed. Transforming my weapon into a scythe, I slashed diagonally, splitting his clothes in two. A long, thin line was left behind on the cloth, showing off his bare skin. Blood dripped from the opening, staining the green tunic dark red. He smirked, unconcerned by his wound, and kicked me hard in the abdomen. The blow pushed my entire body into a nearby wall. "That was unexpected," he mused. "Did you think I would forget to attack, foolish girl?"

I glared, wiping the smudges of blood off my body. The area between my breasts was left unmarred by any cuts. I couldn't keep up with him in my new body; I was still too weak. It was frustrating as hell, having to fight without using many tricks. No other choice, though. The odds weren't in my favor.

"You're really brave to wear only the thinnest armor imaginable. Quite impressive, seeing that your nakedness isn't something to look at," Ronan joked. He narrowed his gaze, eyes flicking briefly between my upper half and the open door to his left. "And while I appreciate your service, I'm not the same as some common male," he added.

He dashed forward and lunged toward the doorway, slicing his blade horizontally. A long, thin beam appeared in place, and from it flew out several smaller slivers, each one capable of cutting through solid matter without resistance. I leaped sideways to avoid getting sliced up into little pieces. "Your powers aren't anything special!" I shouted back in defiance, aiming the scythe at him once more.

The man chuckled deeply, keeping his position near the door. "Oh, so you were able to dodge, huh? How did it feel getting sliced like that?" His grin widened. He crossed his arms and waited patiently for an opening to attack, knowing full well I wouldn't leave this place empty-handed, meaning he needed to act first.

If he took the chance and started rushing in, he could easily slaughter me with ease.

But this wasn't a good place for him either. It was the perfect environment to trap an opponent. The closed doors, the closeness of the walls, and the low ceiling above would limit the use of any technique that required too much space, not that it stopped me from trying to fight. He could come forward in a flash, and his strength alone would prevent me from getting away unscathed.

So how could I beat him? There had to be something I could do to turn the tables. He was physically stronger than me and more skilled with his abilities. In that regard, I wasn't confident in being able to defeat him in combat. But this wasn't a physical competition; I would rely on my wits, agility, and strategy to overwhelm him.

I dashed forward, transforming the weapon back to a blade and parrying his next strike, twisting his wrist inward. His elbow followed suit. Ronan didn't react much except to snarl and lunge. I moved again, bringing my sword overhead and blocking his next stroke. My block forced the hunter back a bit, putting distance between us.

He frowned. "Stalling, aren't ya?" he noted.

"Nah," I dismissed his comment and stabbed forward.

He laughed. "Oho~!"

My eyes darted quickly. I observed the man carefully, analyzing his movement and planning accordingly. I twirled and danced as the tip of the sword narrowly grazed my flesh.

After an arduous series of parries, strikes, and counterstrikes, Ronan and I stood on opposite ends. His chest heaved with each breath he took, and sweat glistened across his forehead. He was tired, just like me. "I won't play with you anymore, young devil."

He held out his sword on his leg and smashed his elbow into it, shattering it. Then he held his fists in front of his chest, and his aura exploded outward, covering the entire area around me.

"What're you trying to do?" I asked him.

"You'll see."

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