The sky over Vaelstorm City burned silver-blue. Lightning tore through the clouds, and the waves crashed like mountains against the harbor walls.
The storm howled like a beast — and within it, men and women screamed, fought, and fell.
Hunnt stood amidst the chaos, his Iron Longsword slick with saltwater and blood. Around him, C and D-rank hunters battled desperately — terrified, under-equipped, yet refusing to yield. The air reeked of smoke and sea brine, thick with the scent of wet iron.
Through the downpour, Hunnt caught sight of Willa at the front lines — shield raised, breathing steady, her strikes cleaner and calmer than before. Just behind her, Will loosed arrows in rapid succession, each one covering her blind side.
Hunnt exhaled, a small smile breaking through the storm.
Good… she's learning. Both of them are.
But even with their progress, the city trembled beneath the Leviathan's rage.
Beyond the harbor walls, Thalazur – The Abyssal Conductor loomed. Its fins crackled with lightning, its roar echoing deep enough to shake the foundations of Vaelstorm itself. Waves slammed against the docks with every thrash of its colossal tail.
Hunnt's fingers tightened around his sword hilt. "Time to end this."
He turned, spotting the Guildmaster standing on a raised platform — a grizzled old man wielding a Heavy Bowgun, his voice hoarse from shouting orders over the chaos.
"Hey, old man!" Hunnt yelled over the thunder.
The Guildmaster blinked. "What?!"
"You're in charge now!" Hunnt roared back. "You know what to do!"
The old man's face twisted in confusion. "What are you planning, you fool?"
Hunnt smirked faintly. "Finishing what we started."
He turned toward the twins, who were helping drag wounded civilians toward the inner city. "You two — I'm trusting you with the evacuation. Get everyone out of here!"
Willa's eyes widened. "Wait—what about you?"
Hunnt's voice softened, though his gaze remained firm. "Don't worry. I've got this."
Then, facing the terrified hunters still fighting, he raised his sword high, shouting so that even the storm couldn't drown him out.
"You've all done more than anyone expected! You're C and D ranks, sure — but look at you! None of you have fallen! None of you have run! You've protected your people — your home!"
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then voices rose — shaky at first, then louder, stronger.
"Go!"
"We'll hold them!"
"Finish it!"
"Don't die, Hunter!"
Hunnt grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."
And then — he was gone.
Using Kami-e and Soru, he vanished through the chaos, weaving between monsters and collapsing structures. Every step, every motion was an instinct — his body flowing like water, his blade slicing through scales and sinew with surgical precision.
Behind him, the Guildmaster shouted orders. "You heard the man! Hold the line! Protect the people!"
At the harbor, Thalazur's massive head rose from the stormy waters. Its eyes gleamed with blue lightning, massive fangs glinting in the flashes.
Hunnt stopped on the edge of the shattered pier, staring up at the Leviathan that dwarfed him a hundredfold.
A deep rumble rolled across the sea.
It wasn't thunder — it was a voice.
Hu…man…
Dare… fight…
Puny… thing…
Hunnt frowned. "What the hell—?"
Then a bolt of lightning struck where he stood. He barely rolled aside as the explosion ripped apart the pier. Chunks of rock and molten debris flew into the air.
The Leviathan's voice echoed again — faint, distorted, like a storm speaking through broken words.
Your… sword… weak… my… scales… un… break…able…
Hunnt spat seawater, rising to his feet. "We'll see about that."
He sprinted forward. The basic forms of the Longsword flowed together — Overhead Slash, Side Slash, Thrust, Left Slash — each motion clean, sharp, and deliberate. He followed with the Spirit Combo, each strike ringing louder against the beast's scales.
But no matter how many times he struck, the sword could not cut through.
Thalazur's laughter rumbled beneath the sea, mocking.
Futile… hu…man… weak… tide… crush… you…
Hunnt clenched his jaw. Not yet.
He drew a deep breath — centered himself. The world seemed to slow. Even the rain fell quieter.
A black sheen began to crawl along his arm, spreading to his sword. The Iron blade turned obsidian, vibrating with raw willpower.
"Armament Haki," he whispered.
When he swung again, the result was immediate — the blade sliced through a patch of armored scale. The air filled with the hiss of burning flesh and steam.
Thalazur roared — a sound that rattled the entire harbor.
How…?! Hu…man… hurt… Thalazur…?!
Hunnt smirked. "Looks like your hide isn't as invincible as you thought."
The Leviathan's roar deepened, echoing through the water.
Hu…man… strong… tide… will… crush…
Hunnt couldn't catch it all, but he understood enough. The intent. The fury.
Every strike, every roar carried fragments of meaning — a language older than men, spoken in the rhythm of the world itself.
Hunnt's strikes grew sharper, his rhythm matching the crash of the waves. The Spirit Roundslash cut through another wave of water, dispersing it like mist.
Behind him, Vaelstorm's defense continued.
The hunters — once scattered and panicked — were now fighting together. Melees covered each other's flanks, gunners supported from above, and healers moved swiftly between them, using potions, salves, and Hunting Horns to restore their wounded.
At the city square, Will and Willa fought together — a small unit among the storm.
Will's arrows struck down serpentine monsters as Willa defended civilians, her movements steady, her breathing even. She was scared — but she remembered Hunnt's lesson.
Balance Breath. Rhythm. Flow.
A large monster lunged at her. She met it head-on, her shield clanging as she blocked its claws. Then she countered with a Shield Bash, thrusting forward and slicing its throat.
"Nice one!" Will shouted, loosing another arrow.
But more monsters kept coming — too many to count.
And still, at the harbor, Hunnt fought alone.
His every motion carved light through the storm, each strike echoing against the Leviathan's roars.
The creature's tail swept across the pier; Hunnt leapt into the air, twisting mid-fall, landing on its back before driving his sword down in a heavy strike. Sparks and blood exploded from the wound.
Thalazur's head reared back, eyes blazing.
Hu…man… hear… me…?
Hunnt froze for a moment — the words faint but clearer this time. "What…?"
You… fight… tide… die…
Hunnt steadied his breath, gripping his sword tighter. "Maybe. But I'll die standing."
He lunged forward again. Lightning met steel, sea met fire. The waves rose high enough to drown the docks — yet Hunnt remained unmoved, slashing through the storm with unbroken rhythm.
Each roar of the monster carried more fragments of meaning.
Each strike brought him closer to something deeper — a strange resonance between his will and the monster's voice.
And as the night raged on — every fight, every exchange, every roar and word — Hunnt began to understand.
Bit by bit.
Strike by strike.
Until finally…
he could almost grasp what the monsters were saying.