Raxka stood twenty ters away. Relaxed and Confident. Her silver-grey fur rippled in the desert wind. The tracker in Owen’s chest pulsed in rhythm with her presence.
"You’re early..." Owen said. His voice was steady despite the fear crawling up his spine.
"Am I?" Raxka tilted her head. "Or did I simply decide to start my hunt when I wanted?" She gestured to the empty oasis. "I’ve been watching you. Waiting for the perfect mont."
Gorvax’s scythe materialized. "The hunt doesn’t officially start until day twenty-five."
"True." Raxka’s grin widened. "But who’s going to complain? The Tribunal? They’ll love the drama. Early hunt ans higher ratings." She cracked her knuckles. "Besides, I have special permission. The whelp is marked. He’s my prey specifically."
Owen’s gauntlets humd. His CE gathered. 6,000 baseline. Against her probable 1,500,000.
The gap was insurmountable.
But he’d faced insurmountable before.
"Gorvax..." Owen said quietly. "Run."
"No."
"Dying here wastes everything."
"I said no." Gorvax’s CE flared. His scythe burned brighter. "We’re partners. We’ll fight together."
Raxka laughed. "How touching. But it won’t matter. You’re both prey. The only question is who dies first."
She moved.
Faster than Owen could track.
One mont she was twenty ters away. The next, her clawed hand was at his throat.
He activated Montum Shift. 7 CE. Appeared three ters left.
Her hand closed on empty air.
She turned. Smiled. "Good instincts."
Gorvax attacked from behind. Scythe swinging for her spine.
Raxka ducked without looking. The blade passed over her head. She kicked backward. Caught Gorvax in the chest.
WHAM!
He flew ten ters. Hit the rocks. His CE dropped by 4,000 from a single kick.
Owen didn’t waste ti. Dragon’s Breath. 300 CE.
Black flas erupted. Consud the space where Raxka stood.
She walked through them. Unburned. Her fur barely singed.
"Tier 2 CE reinforcent," she said casually. "Your flas can’t penetrate my defenses. Nice try though."
Owen’s mind raced. His fire didn’t work. Physical attacks won’t connect and Her speed was overwhelming.
He needed a different approach.
Dragon’s Tongue. "{Slow}"
Cost: 120 CE.
The word resonated. Reality rippled. Raxka’s movents beca fractionally slower.
Fractionally.
But enough.
Owen struck. Cosmic Impact Fist. 400 CE. His fastest, hardest punch.
It connected with her ribs.
CRACK!
Raxka slid backward three ters. Looked down at where his fist had landed.
No visible damage. Her CE had absorbed the impact completely.
She looked up. Her expression had changed. No more amusent. Now interest.
"That hurt. Barely. But it did." She flexed. "Impressive for Tier 5, five-stars. You’re stronger than you should be."
Gorvax was back on his feet. He attacked from her blind side. Scythe aid for her legs.
Raxka jumped. Ten ters straight up. Twisted mid-air. Landed behind him.
She grabbed his scythe. Ripped it from his hands. Threw it away.
Then she punched him. Once. In the stomach.
Gorvax doubled over. Coughed blood. His CE dropped by 8,000.
"Sower. Tier 4, five-stars. 60,000 baseline CE. Strong. Experienced. But too slow." She grabbed his throat. Lifted him. "You’re not the interesting one."
She threw him. He hit the ground thirty ters away. Didn’t get up imdiately.
Owen’s heart hamred. ’She’s toying with us. This isn’t even a fight to her.’
Raxka turned her full attention to Owen. "Now. Let’s see what the one with a strange scent can really do."
She charged.
Owen used every skill he had.
Montum Shift to dodge. Dragon’s Eye to predict. Indestructible Scales to block. Dragon’s Aura to create pressure.
Nothing worked.
She was too fast. Too strong. Too experienced.
Every exchange cost him CE. Every block drained his reserves. Every dodge required precision he barely had.
His CE: 4,900.
Hers: Barely touched.
She caught him by the arm. Twisted. His shoulder dislocated.
CRACK!
Pain exploded. Ultra-Regeneration kicked in. 200 CE to heal.
She kicked his chest. Three ribs broke.
WHAM!
Another 250 CE to heal.
His CE: 4,250.
"You’re tough," Raxka said. "Good regeneration. But you can’t last forever."
She was right.
Owen converted mana to CE. 100,000 mana for 100 CE.
His reserves refilled slightly. But his mana was finite. 720,000 remaining.
He couldn’t win this. Not head-on.
Gorvax appeared behind Raxka. His scythe reford. He swung with everything he had.
She caught the blade with one hand. Didn’t even turn around.
"Persistent." She yanked the scythe. Pulled Gorvax toward her. Punched him in the face.
CRACK!
His covering shattered. For the first ti, Owen saw Gorvax’s real face.
Humanoid. Sharp features. Grey skin. Eyes that glowed faintly purple.
Blood poured from his broken nose.
Raxka kicked him away again.
Owen attacked while she was distracted. 500 CE punch aid at her spine.
She spun. Caught his fist. Squeezed.
The bones in his hand shattered.
Owen scread.
She released him. He stumbled back. Ultra-Regeneration burning 300 CE.
His CE: 3,550.
Raxka wasn’t even breathing hard. "This is disappointing. I expected more from soone carrying Progenitor scent"
She stepped forward. "But I suppose diluted trash is still trash."
Owen’s vision blurred from pain. His hand was healed but the mory of agony remained.
’We can’t win. We’re going to die here.’
Then Gorvax spoke. His voice was distorted without his covering. Raw. Desperate.
"Raxka. I invoke Right of Offering."
Raxka stopped. Her eyes widened. "What?"
"Right of Offering. Nullborn tradition. I offer myself as worthy prey. Solo hunt. You let the whelp go."
"Gorvax, no—" Owen started.
"Shut up, Dragon." Gorvax stood. Blood still dripping from his face. His CE flared. Everything he had left. "I’m Tier 4, five-stars. I’ve survived five hundred years. I’ve killed thousands. I’m worthy prey."
Raxka’s expression shifted. Calculating. "Right of Offering. You know our traditions."
"I’ve traveled the cosmos long enough to learn them." Gorvax’s purple eyes locked onto hers. "You accept, we fight one-on-one. You kill , you take my credits, my rank, my kill count. But He walks away. Unhard."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you dishonor your clan. Your Matriarch. Your hunt." Gorvax’s voice was steel. "Nullborns don’t refuse worthy prey. It’s the only law you actually follow."
Silence.
Raxka’s jaw tightened. Her claws flexed.
Then she smiled. "You clever bastard."
She turned to Owen. "Leave. Now. You have ten seconds before I change my mind."
Owen didn’t move. "Gorvax—"
"GO!" Gorvax roared. "Seri needs to survive. I can’t do that if you’re here distracting ."
Owen’s throat tightened. "You can’t beat her."
"I know." Gorvax’s smile was bitter. "But I can give you ti. Use it. Get stronger. Kill the next hunter. Earn your pardon."
"Gorvax—"
"Five seconds," Raxka said.
Owen looked at Gorvax one last ti. The Sower. The gardener who destroyed worlds. The criminal who loved soone enough to endure five hundred years of running.
His partner.
Owen ran.
He used Montum Shift. Again. Again. Burning CE recklessly. Just distance. Just escape.
Behind him, Gorvax’s CE exploded. His scythe manifested at full power.
Raxka laughed. "Now THIS is a hunt!"
The sound of their battle echoed across the desert.
Owen ran until he couldn’t hear it anymore.
Until the only sound was his own ragged breathing and the crunch of sand beneath his feet.
He collapsed behind a dune. Gasped for air. His body shook.
A notification appeared.
[ALLIANCE DISSOLVED: GORVAX - COMBAT ENGAGENT]
[SHARED CREDIT POOL: DEACTIVATED]
Owen’s final credit count: 2,456,000.
He stared at the notification. Numb.
Then another appeared.
[PRISONER ELIMINATED: GORVAX]
[CAUSE: NULLBORN HUNTER - RAXKA]
[PRISONERS REMAINING: 163 (Season 47) ~298 (Lifers)]
Owen’s hands clenched.
Gorvax was dead.
Seri would be released. Given dical care until she died naturally. Peacefully.
That was the deal. That was what Gorvax had fought for.
But it didn’t make it hurt less.
Owen sat in the sand. Alone. Wounded. His CE at 2,100.
The Month 1 Hunt had claid its first major victim.
And it had only just begun.
---
Sowhere in the desert, Raxka stood over Gorvax’s dissolving body.
She looked in the direction Owen had fled. Smiled.
"Smart, whelp. Using your partner as a sacrifice." She stretched. "But I’ll find you tomorrow. The hunt isn’t over."
She activated her comm. "Raxka to Tribunal HQ. First kill confird. The Sower. Tier 4, five-stars. Combat was satisfactory."
A voice responded. Altered. One of the Judges. "Proceed with the hunt. Four days remaining."
"Understood."
Raxka looked at the stars. "The whelp runs. But he can’t hide. Not from ."
She began tracking.
The hunt continued.
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