Ch.78Hawk’s Eye, Kaufman Theosis (3)

Once you’ve cornered prey, the hunt becomes easy. Kaufman Theosis knew this well.

“……”

Kaufman walked silently through the underground waterway.

What was a ranger’s specialty? Tracking and killing prey was precisely a ranger’s expertise. Even with poor visibility and humidity from the adjacent waterway, these conditions posed no challenge whatsoever.

Blood stains. Footprints. Traces left despite attempts to hide them.

No matter how hard one tries, it’s impossible to escape the eyes of an experienced ranger. Kaufman quietly followed the remaining traces, never letting his guard down during the pursuit.

His vision was wide, and his ballista was always loaded.

The moment he sensed Najin’s presence in the distance, Kaufman pulled the trigger. With a sharp twang, the arrow grazed the fleeing prey’s thigh. Blood splattered, and a suppressed groan echoed.

Thud!

The prey kicked off the ground and fled.

Bleeding and suppressing his groans, Najin ran far away. Even while watching him, Kaufman didn’t rush. He simply pursued Najin at a steady pace.

At first glance, it might seem like he was being leisurely, but his actions were far from it. The prey was already wounded. Bleeding and cornered. Moreover, weren’t there endless traps laid along the prey’s path?

In that case, there was no reason to give up the pursuer’s advantage.

Give no opportunity for counterattack.

Drive them relentlessly. Never relinquish an advantage once gained. That was Kaufman Theosis’s philosophy of hunting. There was no reason to close the distance and give the prey a chance to counterattack.

‘Wear them down.’

Until they’re exhausted enough.

Until they can no longer move.

After driving them to that point, one bolt to the forehead would end the hunt. Having come this far, the hunt was essentially over.

He was simply doing what he always did.

A hunter’s routine was nothing special. The hunter pursued the bleeding prey. The sound of two sets of footsteps echoed softly through the deep underground waterway.

2.

Pursue, pull the trigger, pursue again.

As the pattern repeated, Kaufman had time to reflect. Though he knew nothing was more foolish than letting one’s mind wander during a hunt, he couldn’t ignore the thoughts lingering in his mind.

“…Haa.”

Kaufman walked, exhaling a long breath.

Still keeping his senses alert, he pondered how he had fallen so far. The years spent in treacherous mountains along the border, the years bleeding for the Empire—all were now just memories.

The honorable soldier who had devoted his life to the Empire was gone. All that remained was an old, tired hunting dog.

A hunting dog that followed wherever its leash pulled, biting whatever it was commanded. Of course, if the Empire held his leash, Kaufman would have considered this work honorable. Dedicating one’s life to the homeland was something a soldier could take pride in.

But it wasn’t the imperial family holding his leash.

Naturally, there was neither honor nor cause in what he did. This realization filled Kaufman with bitterness.

“For the Empire.”

“For the glory and peace of the Empire.”

Memories of those declarations echoed in his mind.

Of course, he didn’t regret leaving the Tetzel Mountains of his own accord. It was inevitable when he found a lover more precious than his country.

The problem came afterward.

What followed was the issue.

“Those damn bastards.”

Kaufman muttered through gritted teeth.

Perhaps it was a common story. A group of black magicians taking revenge on a retired soldier. A wife caught in an accident and killed. In the end, all that remained was a child.

“We’ve provided emergency treatment, but it won’t last long.”

“It’s a terrible curse.”

“There’s nothing we can do…”

A broken life. A broken story.

But something remained.

To protect what remains, humans can throw away anything.

“Oh, of course I must help.”

“But to lift such a curse… we need His blessing. And He favors those who serve Him faithfully.”

“What will you do?”

The places to turn for help were limited.

They demanded the unthinkable.

“You’ve made a wise choice.”

“He will respect your decision as well.”

But there was no way to refuse.

“Damn it.”

Kaufman scratched his neck.

“Bastards.”

He scratched roughly. Flesh and blood came away under his fingernails. Kaufman gritted his teeth.

“Well.”

“I didn’t think you could investigate so thoroughly.”

The truth revealed after the pursuit.

“Yes, it was I who informed the black magician of your whereabouts and instigated your wife’s death.”

“But what can you do about it?”

“Will you report me? Go ahead.”

“Someone might listen to the words of a retired soldier. But then what?”

His life had been manipulated, and what he thought was a tragedy was a meticulously planned conspiracy. But by the time he realized it, a leash was already around his neck.

“Your daughter.”

“Only we can get your daughter out of the underground city.”

“Choose wisely, Kaufman.”

“Shouldn’t you protect what remains?”

All that remained was a pitiful hunting dog.

Kaufman clutched the contract in his pocket. A contract sealed with both their souls. If he completed the job, they would free him from everything.

Just once.

He only needed to succeed this time.

Just one more time…

“……”

Kaufman gritted his teeth.

He recalled Najin’s reaction to the words “underground city Attman.” Kaufman knew what that city looked like and how people lived there.

A boy born and raised in that city.

Who finally made it to the outside.

His role was to crush that boy, smash his head, and gouge out his eyes so he would never see light again. The thought filled Kaufman with disgust.

“…Damn it.”

Muttering this, Kaufman pulled his crossbow. The heavy click echoed. Clearing his mind of distractions and containing his emotions, Kaufman walked on.

Bang! Crash!

Sounds came from the distance.

The sound of traps being triggered. The sounds didn’t stop at once but continued in succession. Listening to them, Kaufman muttered:

It’s over.

Accumulated fatigue and injuries. Sluggish movements failing to avoid traps. Judgment clouded by pain. When such a vicious cycle repeats, cornered prey eventually loses all judgment.

The succession of triggered traps was proof of that.

He must no longer be able to detect and avoid traps. Kaufman moved toward the source of the sounds and saw blood splattered everywhere and signs of someone having rolled on the floor.

The blood trail extended far ahead.

Traces of someone dragging their feet.

This tedious chase was finally coming to an end. Kaufman followed the blood trail, moving to finish off the prey that could no longer move.

And so Kaufman closed the distance.

He closed the distance.

The hunter who had consistently maintained distance and made all the right choices made the wrong one at the very last moment.

-Now.

A voice inaudible to Kaufman.

But audible to Najin.

The moment the voice was heard, Najin moved. Hanging from the ceiling of the waterway hidden in darkness, Najin jumped down silently.

In darkness where one can’t see an inch ahead, no one knows who will become the hunter and who will become the prey.

As if to prove this, Najin’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.

3.

“A hunter is most off guard at the moment of finishing off prey. Even the most experienced hunter shows an opening at that moment.”

A story Offen had told.

“That’s when the ranger who had been hiding finally revealed himself.”

“And that was the only chance to counterattack.”

Swinging a bottle of alcohol, he had said:

“Draw them in. Pretend to be a bug struggling in a spider’s web by deliberately stepping into traps. Act like you’ve lost your judgment and are cornered.”

“Deceive the hunter.”

“Until the spider, thinking you’re sufficiently weakened, reveals itself before you.”

When that moment comes.

“When that spider reveals itself to sink its fangs into you—that moment is your last chance.”

Offen had smiled as he sipped his drink.

“Tear it apart. With all your might.”

With bloodshot eyes, Najin saw it.

The hunter who had finally revealed himself. And thus, he gained his one and only chance. The moment Kaufman stepped deeper, distracted by the arrows and daggers Najin had pulled from his body and thrown on the floor.

-Now.

The voice echoed in his ear.

Najin, hanging from the ceiling, jumped down. Though the attack was silent, Kaufman’s superhuman senses detected even the faintest presence.

“…!”

Wide-eyed, Kaufman swiftly turned his crossbow toward Najin, but it was already too late. Najin drove the dagger in his left hand into Kaufman’s ballista.

Crack!

The dagger embedded in the ballista before the trigger could be pulled. As the ballista misfired, the longsword in Najin’s right hand swung.

Due to accumulated fatigue, injuries, and the sword energy expended in the battle with Fau Bae, no sword energy formed on the longsword. But even so, a blade is more than sufficient to tear human flesh.

A surprise attack. A longsword with sufficient force behind it.

The longsword struck down on Kaufman’s shoulder. Kaufman’s poncho tore and blood splattered. As the sword dug deep, about to sever the arm at the shoulder, Kaufman gritted his teeth and extended his arm.

Grip.

Regardless of the blood flowing from his palm as he grasped the blade, Kaufman held it to prevent it from digging deeper and kicked straight at Najin.

Thwack.

Despite the kick landing directly on his already injured abdomen, Najin didn’t release the longsword. Even as he was pushed back, he twisted the longsword with all his might. Widening the wound on Kaufman’s shoulder and deeply cutting the fingers gripping the sword, Najin stepped back.

And so a stalemate was created.

The two men stared at each other from a distance.

“What a crazy bastard.”

Kaufman laughed in disbelief.

Blood flowed from his torn shoulder. His torn poncho fell away, spilling its contents, and the shattered crossbow was beyond repair.

Deeply cut fingers and shoulder.

I won’t be able to draw a bow with this hand.

But from Kaufman’s perspective, Najin’s condition was several times worse. His body was covered in wounds, his clothes stained red, and several arrows and daggers still protruded from his back, apparently not fully removed.

Bloodshot eyes. Rough breathing.

Even if he had managed to lure Kaufman here, Najin’s condition was far from normal. It was a wonder he could move at all… yet he showed no intention of releasing the tightly gripped longsword. Looking at Najin, Kaufman acknowledged:

Neither of them was prey.

Here, they were both simply hunters.

Kaufman’s upper body was exposed as his poncho fell away. Scarred arms and various daggers attached to his leather armor. In one hand he held a dagger, and with the other, he drew the machete hanging at his waist.

The smell of blood vibrating from all directions.

The only sound was water flowing through the waterway.

A moment of silence and a single breath. It took only seconds for each to gauge the other’s condition. In those few seconds, both calculated how to kill the prey standing before them.

Neither moved first.

Almost simultaneously, the two hunters rushed at each other. The dagger Najin threw and the dagger Kaufman swung collided in mid-air and deflected, and as they knocked away the deflected objects, the longsword and machete clashed.

Clang!

Sparks flew.

Blood splattered from wounds reopened by their violent movements. Najin’s bloodshot eyes and Kaufman’s eyes stared at each other.

All that reflected in their eyes was killing intent.

Reasons, distractions, such trivial emotions had long been cast aside. Because hesitation meant death.