It had been weeks since Hunnt last saw land that wasn't scorched or scarred by battle. The sky had turned gold, the wind carried dust, and his body moved with the rhythm of one who had trained past exhaustion — beyond limits.
Now, standing in the clearing where molten stone had once cooled beneath his blows, Hunnt finally exhaled.
The air around him shimmered with heat as his gauntlets — the newly forged Infernal Fistbreaker — locked into place over his arms. Steam hissed from the vents along the sides as the internal coils clicked and rotated, locking tight. The weight was perfect. Balanced. Alive.
He flexed his hands once and felt the weapon respond, its steel veins pulsing faint red under the glow of Armament Haki.
Hunnt muttered under his breath, "Let's see how you move."
He crouched low, spreading his stance — then vanished.
The ground cracked beneath him as he used Soru, reappearing several meters away mid-strike. His right arm blurred, the gauntlet flaring with heat, and his fist struck an obsidian boulder with explosive force. The rock shattered into molten fragments.
The gauntlet shifted, gears turning, plates sliding over one another — transforming. The once-compact shape extended outward, forming a single colossal hammer head along his forearm. A deep hum resonated through the ground.
Hammer Mode engaged.
Hunnt steadied his breathing. The red light along the weapon's edge burned brighter as his Haki spread across its frame, coating the metal in pure willpower.
"Now…" he murmured, stepping back.
Then he leapt — Geppo bursts echoing through the air — and came down like a meteor.
Infernal Smash.
The hammer struck the earth, and the world erupted.
A column of fire and ash burst skyward, leaving a crater six meters wide. Lava veins cracked through the stone as the hammer's glow dimmed back to its resting hue. Hunnt stood in the center, shoulders rising and falling with controlled breath, heat rolling off him like a living furnace.
He turned the weapon back to its gauntlet state — smaller, faster, lethal.
Now came the second test.
He closed his eyes and focused. Observation Haki stretched outward, tracing every ripple of air, every heartbeat of the land. A flicker — then two shadows, moving fast. His eyes snapped open.
Two boulders, flung from the last blast, arced back toward him midair.
He moved.
The world slowed as Hunnt used Kami-e, his form flowing with the air's rhythm. He sidestepped, pivoted, and countered — his fists leaving streaks of flame through the air. Three precise punches followed, each igniting a delayed explosion that tore through the drifting stones.
Mirage Strike.
Flames lingered in afterimages where he'd once stood, burning bright before fading into the wind.
He exhaled slowly, letting the gauntlet cool. The smell of scorched rock filled the clearing. His breathing evened, the faint vibration in his arms fading to silence.
But the test wasn't done. There was one last move to master.
Hunnt spread his stance, his fists lowering as his Haki flared again — black and red intertwining across his arms. The ground beneath him cracked from the pressure. The Infernal Fistbreaker began to hum, its metal vibrating with raw energy.
"Let's finish this."
He dashed forward, his body flickering between presence and afterimage. Armament and Observation combined — his will forged into his weapon. The gauntlet expanded mid-charge, the air around it bending under the sheer heat.
His next strike didn't just connect — it detonated.
Eternal Breaker.
The blow landed with the sound of a mountain collapsing. The earth split open in a wave of molten light, leaving a circular crater glowing with fire at its core — a mark only one man could leave behind.
When the flames died down, Hunnt stood at the center, breathing steadily. The ground smoked around him. His fists lowered, gauntlets still glowing faint orange.
He looked at them quietly — satisfied.
"These'll do," he said.
---
Days later, Hunnt arrived at Vaelstorm — the grand port city of the Old World. The sea breeze replaced the burnt air of battle; the scent of salt and tar filled his lungs. Ships lined the harbor, their hulls creaking as waves slapped against the docks. The city stretched along the cliffside like a fortress carved from the bones of the sea.
Vaelstorm.
Where every voyage began — and ended.
Hunnt walked through the marketplace, noting the faint tension beneath the noise. The merchants weren't shouting like they usually did. Fish stalls were empty, nets were dry, and most of the fishermen sat with idle hands and tired faces.
He stopped at a tavern where a group of hunters spoke in low voices. They looked worn, their armor scratched and salt-stained.
"You new here?" one of them asked, noticing Hunnt's unfamiliar armor.
"Just passing through," Hunnt replied, taking a seat beside them. "Heard the coast has gone quiet."
"Quiet?" one scoffed. "You mean cursed. The fish are gone, the sea's boiling, and monsters keep swimming closer every day."
Hunnt listened in silence.
Another hunter leaned forward. "They say it's migration season. Aquatic monsters moving in early. Whole schools of them near the cliffs — serpents, leviathans, you name it."
"And the guild?" Hunnt asked.
The man spat into his mug. "The guild's got D and C ranks stationed here. Most of the real hunters left weeks ago. No one wants to fight monsters they can't even see."
Hunnt leaned back, thoughtful. "So the sea's full, but the city's starving."
"Exactly," the man said. "We can't fish, can't trade. The merchants already stopped coming. There's nothing to sell but coral, and no one buys that anymore."
Hunnt's gaze drifted toward the open door, where the faint crash of the tide echoed. The sea looked deceptively calm — the kind of stillness that came before a storm.
He murmured, "Something's driving them closer."
The hunters looked at him, puzzled.
Hunnt didn't explain. He stood, tossed a few coins onto the table, and headed toward the docks.
The air outside was heavy with salt and tension. Seagulls circled overhead, their cries drowned by the slow rhythm of waves breaking against stone.
Hunnt rested his hand on his gauntlet, feeling the faint pulse of heat beneath the metal.
Whatever lurked beneath those waters — he'd find it.
But not yet.
Not until he knew what stirred the sea.
He disappeared down the harbor path, his shadow swallowed by the mist.