Chapter 7: Hunter Confrontation.
[6:30 AM]
It was early morning — daybreak. Ares had woken up around 4 AM and decided to start his day from there, sitting in the living room for a while before getting himself into the shower to freshen up.
He was now wandering into the woods. There was nothing to do back at the condo, and frankly, he wanted to get some peace before Solomon woke up somewhere around 12 PM.
…Though he had to admit…for a guy considered the hottest thing since sliced bread, Solomon sure did love his beauty sleep…
Anyway. Seeing all these factors come into play, he decided to head out and get some things done — like, for example, taking out some pesky flies.
Since yesterday afternoon, he had noticed a handful of presences trailing him. The fact that they hadn't attacked yet meant either they hadn't been given the order to, or they were assessing him before making their move. Either way, he had originally entertained the thought that Solomon might have put people on him as a precaution — but on closer thought, their aura was far too hostile for that. Solomon himself, who had also sensed it upon returning, confirmed he hadn't, and that they were most likely Hunters dispatched by the association and the great clans to bring him in — dead or alive.
Solomon told him he was free to handle them however he liked. As for the matter of Solomon sheltering him, it wouldn't be exposed — the condo they were staying at had no documentation whatsoever tying it to Solomon's name, and the moment Solomon had sensed their presence, he had already masked his own aura entirely. They were far too weak to detect him passively, and without actively searching for him specifically, there was no chance they'd notice him.
…At least, that was how Solomon put it…anyway.
After walking for a few more minutes, Ares stopped in the middle of a clearing.
He sensed 11 ancient energy signatures — and from the looks of things, they ranged from Rank 6 to Rank 4 Magi. To be precise: four Rank 6's, four Rank 5's, and three Rank 4's. Though it was obvious they had masked their energy signatures, it still wasn't suppressed enough to slip past him. Then again, it was also possible they had intentionally let some of their aura bleed through, or that they were far stronger than what their signatures implied and were simply lowering it. But he wouldn't bother entertaining all that meaningless babble — he had decided to face them today, and that was exactly what he'd do.
Yes, this was going to be a bit rough, especially with him being so severely weakened and sitting at only Rank 5 strength currently. But he was Ares von Loweswater. He had faced far worse situations and still came out on top. That — and his pride and arrogance flat out wouldn't allow him to entertain the idea that he couldn't win this. Solomon had already stripped away so much of the King of Destruction's dignity that it was honestly laughable at this point, so if he couldn't put down a squad of cannon fodder Hunters, Solomon would without a doubt never let him live it down.
…But that's just by the way…HEHE.
"So, when are you all going to be done with your little game of hide and seek?" Ares asked, a menacing and oppressive aura leaking from his body as dark crimson ancient energy burst forth, causing every living creature within the vicinity — land and sky alike — to flee the area instantly. They could feel it. Whatever was in that clearing set off every alarm in their bodies — *leave. Now.*
*SILENCE.*
After the animals fled, there was nothing. Only the pressure radiating off him, his eyes glowing red as he scanned the area. Anyone else might have concluded there was nobody there — and for good reason, given the complete lack of movement from the Hunters after he spoke. But he was well aware they were here.
"So you're not going to come out then, huh?" Ares said, his wide monstrous grin stretching across his face. "I guess I'll have to bring you out myself, won't I?"
His ancient energy flared as he stretched his left hand out to his side. A tennis ball-sized accumulation of crimson destructive ancient energy formed in his palm, targeted at the trees ahead — then launched at breakneck speed, growing larger and larger the more distance it covered, swelling to the size of a boulder as it tore forward, erasing everything in its path. Trees, earth, anything caught in its way was not damaged — it was *removed*. It continued carving a path of annihilation before finally evaporating, leaving a 6-kilometre trail of destruction in its wake.
*SILENCE.*
Then — 8 silhouettes exploded from all directions, rushing him at blurring speed, ancient energy-imbued weapons in hand.
It was a well-coordinated assault — he'd give them that much. In fact, it was so well-coordinated that even a low- to mid-level Rank 2 Magus would have had serious trouble defending against it. It was clear why they'd operate under the assumption that a mere Rank 5 wouldn't be able to handle the pressure — especially with four Rank 6 Magi and four Rank 5 Magi closing in from all sides simultaneously. Even if one somehow dealt with the Rank 6s, handling the Rank 5s on top of that would border on impossible…
At least…logically, that's how things should go.
Unfortunately for them, the person standing in that clearing was Ares von Loweswater — a Magus with over 300 years of battle experience and another 300 years of pure accumulated intellect. A being who was, and to this day remains, recorded as the single most dangerous existence to ever walk the earth. At this point, logic didn't necessarily apply to him anymore.
**[Ancient Art: Destruction — Technique: Axis]**
With a swift, clean slicing gesture of his palm aimed at the two directly in front of him, a wide gash tore open across their torsos in an instant — without him ever touching them — immediately immobilizing both.
"UUGGH!!" One of the Rank 6 Magi crumpled to the ground, the scream ripping out of her involuntarily.
"AAAHHH!!!" The other Rank 6 hit the ground as well, clutching desperately at the large gash across his chest.
"What!!" The remaining six unharmed Hunters froze mid-charge upon seeing the state of their two teammates.
They were in complete shock. Prisoner Zero — without even making physical contact — had simultaneously incapacitated two of their own? There was no record of this. Nothing in the organization's files had even hinted at this capability.
The six, upon assessing the situation, abandoned the original execution mid-stride and began recalibrating for a secondary coordinated assault. If that failed, they would disengage, fall back, and report this new intelligence to the association immediately.
Unfortunately for them, Ares wasn't about to give them that window. He recognized the hesitation — and moved.
"What's with the long faces? It was just a small cut," his menacing voice cut through the air as he materialized directly behind one of the remaining Rank 6 Magi. Before the man could react, Ares clamped his left hand — reinforced with ancient energy — down onto his right shoulder and applied pressure. The shoulder crushed instantly.
"AAHHH!!—"
The scream was cut short by an ancient energy-reinforced right hook to the jaw. The punch knocked him out cold. Ares released his grip and let the body slump to the ground.
"Now—"
He didn't get to finish.
One of the Rank 5 Magi closed the distance almost instantly — faster than anticipated — and before Ares could fully react, drove a full-force punch coated in dense purple ancient energy directly into his abdomen. The impact sent him flying, crashing through multiple trees before scraping across the ground and finally slamming into a stone cave wall jutting from the terrain.
"ACK!"
The involuntary sound escaped him on the final impact.
"UGH—"
He groaned. The pain was real — his pain tolerance was exceptional, but at the end of the day he was still human, and that hit landed clean. Fortunately, he had reinforced his entire body with ancient energy on instinct, so nothing severe had broken — yet.
"Huh?"
Before he could fully regain his bearings, the same Rank 5 Magus was already in front of him again — another purple-coated punch rocketing toward his abdomen.
She launched it — but missed by a hair's breadth.
Pure instinct. Ares sidestepped to the left just in time, pivoted on his back heel, and spun — getting behind her in one fluid motion, reaching to grab her by the head and drive her into the ground. But before he could fully close the grip and execute—
**[Ancient Art: Clockwork — Technique: Frame Rate Drop]**
A dense coating of greenish-yellow ancient energy wrapped around another Rank 5 Magus's palm as he touched Ares squarely on the back — and then, in an instant, unleashed a flurry of strikes faster than the human eye could track. Fifteen blows — jaw, abdomen, jaw again, body, body — fifteen precise hits delivered in a fraction of a second, all of which Ares absorbed without moving a single inch from the spot.
When the barrage stopped, Ares immediately seized the Magus by the throat and drew back his fist — and then his body simply…stopped responding.
His movements became sluggish. Heavy. Like wading through hardened air.
The female Rank 5 — the one he'd been about to slam into the ground — registered what had happened in an instant. She spun around and drove her purple-coated punch clean into him, sending him flying several metres and leaving him airborne.
*What is this? Why can't I move properly?*
He tried moving his limbs mid-air and confirmed he could — but it was as though his reactions had been forcibly delayed. His body lagged behind every command his mind issued, reduced to extreme sluggishness.
*…This is actually more interesting than I expected,* he thought, a grin beginning to make its way to his face—
—though it didn't quite finish forming. Because while he was still airborne—
**[Ancient Art: Forgery — Technique: Blacksmith]**
The last remaining Rank 6 Magus on the team clapped both hands together, a blackish ancient energy signature surging between his palms. When he pulled them apart, what formed between them was a massive sledgehammer — eight feet tall, dwarfing the man wielding it, who stood at around 5'8". The hammer outclassed him in size by a considerable margin.
*Huh.*
Ares — still mid-air — found himself momentarily more preoccupied with how genuinely comical the size of that hammer was relative to the person holding it than with the fact that it was being swung at him.
Then, with massive force and speed, the hammer came down — slamming directly into him and driving him into the ground at sonic speed.
*BOOOOM.*
A massive, deep crater formed on the spot of impact, the earth cracking and splitting outward from the point of collision.
"UGH—"
Ares groaned, attempting to push himself up from the crater — sluggish, delayed, fighting against whatever had been done to his movement — but before he could even halfway rise, the female Rank 5 Magus reappeared in front of him, purple ancient energy coiling around her leg, and delivered a devastating kick to the side of his head. The blow sent him skidding through the air and slamming back-first into a tree trunk.
"KEGH!"
The impact drove the air from him. Pain radiated across his entire body — he was fairly certain he had a few cracked ribs at minimum. But he didn't let any of it show on his face.
He shifted, testing his body — and blinked.
He could move normally again.
*…Wait. So that means…*
A thought surfaced. An idea — clean, precise. He'd need to confirm it, but the outline was already forming.
He quickly circulated ancient energy through his body, accelerating the healing across his ribs and the worst of the damage. Once he confirmed he was stable, he steadied himself and waited — watching, reading, letting the pieces of what he'd observed click into place one by one.
The Clockwork Magus moved again.
**[Ancient Art: Clockwork — Technique: Frame Rate Drop]**
The rank 5 Magus launched again, the greenish-yellow energy coated his palm once more as he closed in on Ares, hitting Ares again but this time Ares allowed it — and the sluggishness returned, Ares's body lagging once again as the Magus launched into another measured barrage of strikes, the rest of the group including the other two rank 5 magi who hadn't made a move yet since the confrontation joined in immediately pressing their advantage and swarming him in coordination.
But this time, even slowed as he was, Ares's eyes were working — cataloguing.
'One', he counted internally.
The Clockwork user's rhythm. The interval. The exact moment the technique's window had ended the first time.
'Twelve', he continued in his head.
Every detail was being filed away with the clinical precision of someone who had spent three centuries dissecting opponents in real time.
*There it is.*
He had it now. The full picture. And once he had a picture, he already had the answer.
The third time the Clockwork Magus closed in, greenish-yellow energy already coating his palm as he reached for Ares—
[Ancient Art: Destruction — Technique: BOOM]
The explosion detonated the instant contact was made.
Not as an attack meant to kill but instead precisely calibrated. Enough force to launch the Clockwork Magus backward off his feet and clear of the immediate vicinity, buying the exact window Ares needed.
The sluggishness clamped down on him immediately as the technique activated — but Ares had already accounted for that. He had already begun moving *before* the touch landed, repositioning his body in the fraction of a second prior, burning every drop of available ancient energy into his eyes — sharpening his perception to its absolute ceiling, slowing everything he observed down to a crawl within his own mind even as his body lagged behind the commands.
He watched the Clockwork Magus recover. Watched him read the situation. Watched the decision form — and then watched him accelerate, closing the distance at the full 15-times speed the technique afforded him, a streak of greenish-yellow cutting across the terrain straight toward Ares.
Ares didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't adjust.
He just waited — tracking every centimetre of that approach with eyes running at maximum output — and the moment the Magus entered range, Ares drove everything. Every last unit of speed he could force out of his slowed body, compressed and funneled into a single point.
One punch.
Straight into the skull.
*CRACK*
The impact was immediate and absolute. The Clockwork Magus hit the ground and didn't move.
The clearing went still.
The remaining Hunters stared.
"…"
None of them spoke. None of them moved. The weight of what they had just witnessed pressed down on the clearing like something physical — the realization arriving slowly, individually, for each of them, that something had gone catastrophically wrong with every assumption they had walked into this forest with.
"Did you all really think I wouldn't notice?"
Ares's voice came out low, almost conversational — the tone of someone recounting something mildly amusing rather than a man who had just been crashing through trees sixty seconds ago.
He straightened up, ancient energy still faintly flickering across his frame as the last of his injuries sealed themselves shut.
"I'll admit — the technique was a clever one. Took me a moment to pin it down properly." He tilted his head slightly, glancing at the fallen Clockwork Magus with something that almost resembled appreciation. "But the second time he used it on me, I already had what I needed."
He let the silence stretch for a beat before continuing.
"That Ancient Art of his — *Clockwork*, Technique: *Frame Rate Drop* — the mechanism is elegant, actually. The moment the user makes contact with a target, both parties are locked into what I'll call the One-Second Rule. Within a single second, both the user and the target must each register a total of fifteen attacks or movements. Whoever fails to meet that threshold within that one second is penalized — their reaction time is forcibly delayed, slowed to fifteen seconds of lag for a total duration of fifteen seconds."
He began walking — slow, unhurried, hands loosely at his sides.
AaÀ
"Now — if it were only that, it would be a fair enough exchange. A race. Which is precisely why the technique compensates. The moment the rule activates, the user is granted physical speed fifteen times their baseline — enough to comfortably complete their fifteen movements within that single second and guarantee the opponent takes the lag penalty instead. And for the duration of those fifteen seconds while the target is slowed, the user retains that elevated speed — rendering them nearly imperceptible to the lagged opponent." He paused. "A genuine game-changer of a technique. Against the right opponent, nearly inescapable."
"Unfortunately for him — he ran it on me."
The remaining Hunters said nothing. A few had stopped breathing.
"The first time he used it, I felt something tick me off. Couldn't name it yet — just a discrepancy in how my body was responding. So I let it run its course and paid attention." His eyes moved across the group, unhurried. "The second time, I had already identified the lag duration and worked backward from there. Fifteen seconds. Fifteen moves. One second window. Once I understood the structure, the rest was straightforward."
"From there, it was a matter of timing. I let him come in for the third contact — and the millisecond he touched me, I detonated the explosion, creating just enough separation to work with. Then, while the lag was still active on my body, I had already committed — I redirected every unit of available ancient energy into my perception, pushed my visual processing to its absolute limit to compensate for what my body couldn't do, and I tracked him the entire way as he closed in."
A faint smirk.
"By the time he was in range, all I had to do was put everything I had into one point. One punch. One second window — same rule he'd been using on me this entire time." He glanced down at the Clockwork Magus on the ground. "As for why his technique is no longer affecting me…I'm sure you're all aware that an Ancient Art and its techniques cease to function the moment the user dies."
He looked back up at the group.
"So. Yeah."