Chapter 117 — Shadows of the Past

  The Weight of the Hunt

  Snow whipped across the ruined compound, but Seven barely felt the cold.

  Kinata’s claws dug lightly into his arm—not enough to pierce skin, but easily enough to remind him that if she wanted to, she could tear it off in one fluid motion. Her tail wrapped around his thigh like a constricting serpent, pinning him with frightening precision.

  This wasn’t restraint.

  This was a domination hold.

  Seven had been hunted before—

  by wyverns, wild beasts, and The cursed Nekomata—

  But this served as a haunting reminder that he truly grasped what it felt like to be pursued by a formidable apex predator.

  He wasn’t fighting the environment.

  He wasn’t surviving bad luck.

  He wasn’t fighting a single beast.

  He had walked directly into the jaws of creatures who designed themselves around the art of hunting.

  His pulse thundered in his ears.

  Not just one.

  Two.

  Both far stronger than anything he had ever fought alone.

  And the worst part?

  He didn’t even have a weapon trained on them anymore.

  Kinata’s Calculated Hold

  Kinata shifted her weight, adjusting the lock on his arm so smoothly it felt like she’d been waiting for the perfect moment to tighten it. Her breath brushed his neck as she leaned closer.

  “Weakness comes in many forms,” she murmured. “Fear, hesitation, instinct. You showed all three.”

  Her voice held a cold amusement—predatory yet calm.

  Then she added, almost disappointed:

  “Thought you might make me work for it.”

  Seven’s jaw tensed. He could feel the tremor in his bicep where her claws pressed. She wasn’t even using half her strength.

  Kinata angled her head, evaluating him with those sharp golden eyes. She inhaled faintly at his shoulder, her cold nose brushing his skin.

  Then—

  A slow, sharp exhale.

  “…Interesting.”

  Seven stiffened.

  “What are you doing?”

  Her ears flicked, amused.

  “Humans like you typically reek of fear,” she said, leaning in closer, her voice a whisper that danced in the air between them. “But you... you carry a different scent.”

  Her lips curved.

  “You burn quicker. But not like the other one.”

  Her gaze drifted toward the unconscious numbered human—356—collapsed in the corrupted Aether.

  Seven’s stomach twisted.

  “Another one like me,” he breathed.

  Kinata’s grip tightened warningly.

  “Don’t move. You’ll only make this more painful for yourself.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The threat wasn’t angry.

  It was simply factual.

  Seven swallowed hard.

  “Why now?” he muttered. “The Aku Clan’s been quiet for weeks. And suddenly—this?”

  Kinata’s tail flicked, brushing the snow.

  “Quiet?” she echoed with a faint smirk. “We were never quiet, human. We were… watching.”

  The words slammed into him.

  They hadn’t vanished.

  They’d been tracking him.

  For weeks.

  Everything he thought he avoided—every time he thought he shook a presence, every prickle of unease—

  It had been them.

  The realization hit like a punch to the ribs.

  They weren’t here by coincidence.

  They had planned this.

  Kinata continued, her claws lightly tapping against his arm:

  “And when the snow leopards spared you… well.”

  She leaned closer, golden eyes gleaming.

  “That only made you more interesting.”

  Seven froze.

  They knew about the snow leopard den.

  They knew he’d survived something he shouldn’t have.

  They’d been shadowing that, too.

  Kinata chuckled softly.

  “Do you understand now, little human? You were never alone out here.”

  Lyra’s Playful Sadism

  Lyra stepped closer, kunai twirling between her fingers with casual elegance. She looked small, almost harmless—until her eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.

  “You should see your face,” she purred. “Humans really do break so easily.”

  She knelt in front of Seven, her grin widening as she traced the air with the tip of her poisoned blade—mere centimeters from his cheek.

  “Relax,” she said sweetly. “We’re not here to kill you.”

  Her tail curled lazily.

  “Not yet.”

  Seven forced himself not to flinch, but his heartbeat was a drum in his ears.

  Lyra’s voice softened into a mock whisper:

  “You’re lucky, you know. Some humans die without ever learning why they’re hunted.”

  She tapped the flat of the blade against her own cheek, contemplating.

  “But not you. You’re valuable. Too valuable to simply consume.”

  Seven’s brows pinched.

  “…Because of negotiations?”

  Lyra laughed.

  A short, sharp, mocking sound.

  “Oh, this isn’t about politics,” she said, eyes narrowing with dangerous amusement. “This is about you.”

  Kinata’s tail tightened, reinforcing the truth.

  Lyra leaned in, her lips nearly brushing his ear as she whispered:

  “Your existence alone has changed the entire game.”

  Seven’s chest tightened.

  He didn’t fully understand what she meant.

  But the fear in his blood told him:

  This wasn’t a random encounter.

  This wasn’t a scouting mission.

  This wasn’t even about the Aku’s demands.

  Kinata and Lyra had come for him.

  And not even the city walls could stop what came next.

  The Echoes of Kinata’s First Hunt

  Seven didn’t need [Examine] to understand one thing:

  Kinata was enjoying this.

  The way her tail stayed coiled around his waist.

  The way her claws flexed just enough to sting.

  The way she watched him—not as an equal, but as something claimed.

  Her voice dropped, low and dangerous, brushing the shell of his ear.

  “You still don’t understand, Seven.”

  She leaned in, breath warm against the side of his neck despite the cold.

  “This isn’t just about capturing you.”

  Her claws tightened a fraction, digging into the muscle of his arm—testing how he tensed, how he reacted, how quickly his heart spiked.

  “It’s about reminding humans what they forgot,” she murmured. “Predators hunt. Prey runs. Your city thinks a wall and a flickering barrier changed that.”

  Her gaze slid toward the horizon where Novastra lay far beyond the snow.

  “They’re wrong.”

  Seven’s stomach twisted.

  He remembered the snow leopard den.

  The wyvern’s shadow.

  The Warren child half-buried in the snow.

  Predators. Prey.

  He’d been pretending he was something in between.

  Kinata’s smile sharpened.

  “You,” she said softly, “were just unlucky enough to be caught in the middle.”

  He’d felt hunger in her voice before—during the hunt, when she stalked him unseen.

  Now he understood it.

  She wanted to devour him.

  The only thing holding her back… was someone else’s order.

  Lady Lumin.

  And that thought was somehow worse.

  The True Form of the Huntresses

  They left the facility through the broken main entrance, stepping out into the open night.

  Cold air slapped his face, sharp and real after the death-stale air of the corridors.

  For a split second, Seven tasted freedom—open sky, room to run—

  Then he saw it.

  Kinata and Lyra’s bodies began to shift.

  Bone lengthened.

  Muscle stretched.

  Fur rippled.

  Their compact, human-sized forms melted away, expanding upward with horrifying grace.

  One hundred feet tall.

  Ninety feet tall.

  In heartbeats, the corridor huntresses became what they truly were—Aku titans, their silhouettes blotting out chunks of sky.

  Seven’s stomach dropped.

  Kinata barely needed to adjust her grip. Her massive fingers—and tail—wrapped around him with casual strength, pinning his torso and legs as if he were nothing more than a struggling toy.

  Even if he activated Enchanted Combat now—

  even if he boosted his muscles to the limit—

  He wasn’t breaking this hold.

  Lyra rolled her shoulders, vertebrae popping as she flexed, now towering over the facility ruins.

  “Now that feels better,” she exhaled, stretching her arms. Her sleek black tail flicked, scattering snow. “I hate staying small for too long.”

  Her golden eyes cut toward Kinata’s prize.

  “With Seven in tow, our objective is complete.”

  Kinata shifted her stance in the snow, adjusting him in her grip so he rested more securely against her palm and tail. To her, he weighed about as much as a bag of grain.

  “Now it’s up to the humans,” Lyra continued, her tone almost bored. “If they agree to our Lady’s terms… everyone keeps pretending at peace.”

  She smiled, baring a hint of fang.

  “If not? We take what we’re owed.”

  Kinata’s pupils thinned, her gaze drifting toward the distant city.

  “Indeed.”

  Seven bit back a curse, mind racing.

  The Scan — Calculating the Impossible

  He didn’t have much time.

  Pinned in Kinata’s grasp, he triggered [Examine].

  The world sharpened, a cold overlay sweeping across his vision—numbers, markers, threat estimates.

  [Examine — Rapid Assessment]

  Threat Level: S-Class (Severe)

  Immediate Threats:

  ? Kinata — Aku Huntress. Titan-class.

  – Strength, speed, and reflexes vastly exceed human limits

  – Black lightning affinity; unknown ceiling

  – Hunter instincts: high pattern recognition, ambush precision

  ? Lyra — Aku Assassin. Titan-class.

  – Extreme agility, precision, and stealth

  – Poisons detected on weapon coating

  – Shadow manipulation / masking

  Environmental Factors:

  ? Corrupted Aether concentration high.

  ? Exposure will worsen over time.

  ? Unstable terrain around the facility.

  Self-Status:

  ? Stamina: Reduced but stable

  ? Mana: Moderately spent (Enchanted Combat + rifle usage)

  ? Bionic Arm: Partially stressed by corruption exposure

  Options surfaced, cold and unforgiving.

  Strategic Paths:

  1. Talk / stall for time

  – Success chance: low

  – Risk: capture, relocation

  2. Feign compliance, wait for opportunity

  – Success chance: moderate

  – Requires unknown future variables (terrain, allies, mistakes)

  3. Overload Enchanted Combat & attempt breakaway now

  – Success chance: near zero

  – Risk: severe injury or death

  The display flickered.

  Then vanished.

  Seven exhaled slowly.

  “Tch… not great odds.”

  Kinata glanced down, as if she’d felt the shift in his focus.

  “Still thinking of running?” she asked, amused.

  Seven met her gaze.

  “If I say no, you’d believe me?”

  Her smile widened.

  “No.”

  Lyra chuckled, folding her arms as she walked ahead, snow crunching under each titanic step.

  “Struggle if you want, human,” she called back over her shoulder. “Makes the journey more entertaining.”

  Kinata turned away from the facility, her massive stride carrying them toward the white horizon.

  Seven felt his ribs jolt with each step. The ruined facility receded behind them—swallowed by distance and snowfall.

  He stared toward the far-off, invisible line where Novastra lay.

  Fluffy.

  Raven.

  He didn’t know if they were alive.

  Didn’t know if anyone would even realize he was gone in time.

  But one thing was certain:

  The game of cat and mouse was over.

  The hunt was done.

  Now the real nightmare was about to begin.