Caveat

In no time at all, he narrowed the distance between himself and his objective. The effects of his augmented velocity hadn't gone unnoticed; the deviant perched atop the large oak tree quickly spotted the trail of dust and debris marking the boy's approach.

From his hidden position, the deviant shooter wore a snide grin as he took aim yet again with his open palm. A sublime grimoire rested in his left hand, already pre-synced with the man's mind. The thick tome made it ten times easier for him to complete the preparations for his spell in a fraction of the time.

Orbs of crackling electricity began materializing around the shooter's position, filling the sky with the frequent zapping sounds of powerful electrical currents discharging.

Cyril hadn't even bothered to glance up at the scene unfolding near the tree's apex. Even if it was inferior, his version of the [Mobius] skill was more than capable of discerning the true nature of even the most complex spell formations.

[Alert. Cyril, the individual is less than twenty meters away. Caution is advised, the individual has already prepared sufficient countermeasures in advance.]

I know.

Heeding Aria's warning, Cyril drew a sharp breath and anchored himself to the ground with a powerful stomp. Channeling all of his built-up momentum into a downward strike made what ought to have been a casual blow all the more devastating—along with bringing him to a complete halt, the force from his stomp shattered the earth like brittle glass, sending plumes of dust and debris afloat in the aftermath.

Powerful tremors rocked the area, dispersing like a wave from the point of impact and usurping what little remained of the forests' tranquility. The magician taking aim at Cyril felt the full force of the seismic aftershocks, the centuries old timber beneath him cracked and wobbled as it swayed from the impact.

With his hiding place now compromised, the man had reached his limit. He clicked his tongue and uttered a final command, one that sent the swirling orbs of electricity plummeting into the churning sea of dust below.

His reduced visibility meant little to him, the current circumstances made retaliation seem like a far more viable option—just as Cyril had expected.

The rain of zapping bolts crashed down like meteors, falling to the earth in succession and scathing the land with a torrent of bright sparks. The assault seemed endless, but despite their impressive numbers, not one had managed to hit its mark.

As fearsome as the rain of lightning orbs was, Cyril's perception wouldn't be outmatched by such a straightforward salvo—especially not after facing a far more potent version just days ago at the hands of his instructor.

[Mobius] allowed him to perceive the trajectory of any potentially harmful shot moments in advance, so all he had to do was evade accordingly. Unlike the Caster who fired blindly, Cyril had no issues with his visibility.

The incoming thunderstrikes did little to halt his charge—by way of jumping ducking and pivoting, he evaded every shot with near uncanny precision. It didn't take him very long to arrive at the base of the giant oak tree, but he didn't stop there.

Cyril sprinted up the base of the tree at incredible speed, using the large branches as footholds. He launched himself along the tree's thick span, relying on the branches not only for support but also for evasion. Any attacks aimed at him while airborne missed by a hair's breadth.

In a matter of seconds, he vaulted over the final branch and landed atop the tree, ready to confront the magician already taking aim at him. Cyril instantly recognized him. Aside from the heavy black cloak draped over his body, the man wasn't wearing anything designed to conceal his appearance.

His face was pale, marked by sharp, stern features and a clear lack of proper self-care. Faint signs of jaundice were beginning to show, and his frail body gave the impression of someone inching closer to the brink with each passing day.

Looks like he's using Nectar too...Cyril thought to himself as he skeptically inspected the man's appearance.

"You're one of the provisional hunters that was in the lobby this morning. Why are you doing this?" he asked the question slowly, grinding the words through gritted teeth.

"Hah." The man scoffed. "Your head's going for a high price boy. I'm not sure what you've done to deserve it, nor do I care, but I'll be sure to make use of this opportunity."

As he said that, the man fiddled under his coat and retrieved a pearl shaped object from his inner pocket. The small stone glowed upon siphoning a portion of his mana, he brought it closer to his lips and whispered the words: "I found him."

The mans words were anything but comforting, but there was also a certain advantage at play—his comrades were sure to converge on his position in short order.

Looks like I'm the one they're after. As Cyril held that thought, he fell into a fighting stance, hardening his fists in preparation for the electric assault about to be unleashed upon him.

Sparks fizzed from his opponent, electrifying the air as they surged outward in crackling arcs. Surprisingly, instead of retreating a few paces like a magician ought to have done, he advanced wordlessly, willing blue tendrils of electricity to converge around his open palm.

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"I can't miss from this distance!" the aggressor shouted, unleashing the electrified blast with a furious swipe of his hand. The attack tore through the air in an instant, crackling violently as it arced toward his opponent in a brilliant flash of light.

A moment later, the attack connected with a bang, dispersing the stored charge in all directions.

Znnn

The force from the explosion shook the massive tree down to it's roots. As powerful as the magician's attack was, it had failed to meet its mark. Acting on his heightened senses, Cyril threw up his hand at the last second and augmented the air's density by severalfold. The space in front of him transformed into a makeshift wall of sorts, one durable enough to ward off the electrical blast.

"Tch! Damn it!" Grunted the magician, huffing a laborious breath as he prepared the second volley. He was by no means lacking in terms of raw power, however the price tethered to such irrational strength was sure to wear him down given time. Blue sparks flickered alight once more, converging into the sphere of power swelling before the caster's hand.

Before the destructive spell could manifest as anything more than a giant spark, Cyril flung himself towards the magician like a missile. The magician could only make out a blur, in his eyes Cyril simply vanished after shooting for him, but his mind instinctively knew that wasn't the case.

A silhouette materialized less than three steps away, and before the man could even react, a fist speared toward him, displacing the air from his lungs in a violent rush. The blow landed with a dull, crushing thud against his abdomen, hurling him over the treetop's edge.

It all happened in an instant—he was struck with the full force of the boy's augmented velocity far too quickly for him to regain control before he went careening down the vast trunk of the giant tree. For an ordinary human, the fall would have been fatal. But he was a deviant. The impact would not kill him.

"Grrck!"

A howl of pain echoed from within the small crater dented into the ground. The magician's attempts to free himself had all ended in failure, no matter how much he thrashed about, willpower alone couldn't mend his broken bones.

He was only able to get his upper body a few inches off the ground, and before he could even see straight, Cyril's foot crashed into the man's chest and forced him back into the dirt.

A scream tore free from the magician's throat again, but it didn't last long, his eyes glazed over shortly after, and the wounded magician—unable to bear the strain of both his wounds and the wondrous drug—collapsed onto his back.

Clicking his tongue, the young hunter standing over his downed opponent fell into deep speculation, he was contemplating which of the five remaining aggressors to pursue next.

Cyril attempted to enhance the scope of his [Mobius] skill once again, and in that same fleeting moment, his train of thought was shattered almost instantly. Something akin to an alarm had gone off in his mind.

"Tch" he frowned. "Guess they're coming to me."

He spun his body, his eyes frantically scanning the treetops. Having already processed his surroundings earlier, he carried in his mind the equivalent of a digital imprint of everything within his skill's range—enough to navigate it blindfolded. With that level of precision, recalling the magical signatures hurtling toward him at such blinding speeds was effortless. There were several of them in total: he recognized one in particular, but the other five were alien to him. It was hard to call any of their magical signatures 'normal'; they were far too unstable for that. At this point, he wasn't even sure if they were all human.

Cyril drew a deep breath and straightened himself, his pursuers were sure to arrive before long. A thud echoed from somewhere close to him, something had hit the ground. Cyril's eyes slowly drifted down to the small pearls shaped object that had somehow managed to slip out from underneath the magician's hand. It rolled a short distance and stopped by his feet, blinking rhythmically with an entrancing glow.

In the few seconds it took for him to register the objects' true purpose—that of a beacon—there was a rush of air, followed by a series of thumps as the hooded figures came crashing down.

Five hooded men, dressed similarly to the man Cyril had recently sent plummeting to his doom had appeared. Everything from their dark mantled cloaks to the veins writhing underneath their skin was the same.

For the most part, the hooded people had either landed on the ground, or on some low hanging branch extending from one of the nearby oak trees. Their positions were by no means arbitrary, in fact it was perfectly strategic.

Their target, the silver haired boy standing in the midst of the clearing had easily been surrounded. Aside from a few snickers and suggestive hand motions, they hadn't made any moves yet, but that too seemed to be for good reason.

Boom.

The earth rumbled.

As if to cap off their arrival in spectacular fashion, a wave of small tremors began rumbling through the area, rocking the ancient trees hard enough to make them crack. As the tremors spread, so too did the wave of destruction encroaching from beyond the clearing. All Cyril could see was a sea of white dust spurning up from the trees as they collapsed. His face slowly contorted into an expression of mild shock, for even though he couldn't see the approaching disaster with his own eyes, he didn't need to.

His senses had long since identified the source of the approaching dread.

His [Mobius] skill was active, and the approaching disaster was already well within range.

With one final boom, the approaching disaster tore through the last oak tree before making its way onto the clearing. Plumes of white dust were sent afloat, rustling Cyril's clothes as he stood firm.

A piercing red gleam shone through the smoke, centering on him as the creature exhaled a harsh breath.

Cyril returned the glare, but his eyes weren't fixed on the unnecessarily large monster towering higher than a house—they were locked on the man seated comfortably atop its shoulder.

The face was familiar.

As soon as their eyes met, the mans face twisted with sardonic amusement.

Sharp, sunken eyes. Middle-aged features. Flowing black hair. He looked a bit more rugged than he had a year ago, his appearance altered in subtle ways. But still, that presence was unmistakable.

The man spread his arms wide as if to welcome Cyril's glare. Though their encounter was brief, he had found himself acquainted with the highschooler during last year's incursion incident.

Victor's lips curled into a snicker as he leaned forward. "Long time no see, brat."

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