Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest-Chapter 613 136.3 - The Hunt

The idea of tracking a slippery bastard like Zharokath was a delicate game—one that required more than just skill. It was a test of precision, a dance between noise and signal, and a single misstep could mean losing Zharokath for good.

Zharokath had layered himself in defenses, protections that monitored every inch of the surrounding area for disturbances in mana. The filters that surrounded him were complex, weaving through the ambient mana to detect anything out of place. The problem was, I couldn't know exactly how they worked. Without seeing the specific enchantments and artifacts, there was no way to be absolutely sure what would trigger them.

I had to rely on what I knew, what I had studied. Tracking spells, detection methods—they all functioned on similar principles. They sifted through the background noise of mana emissions, separating out anything that didn't fit the expected patterns. But, as I had learned, no filter was perfect.

'It's all about the threshold,' I thought, my mind racing as I prepared to move again. 'Every filter has to be set to a certain level of sensitivity. If it's too sensitive, it picks up everything, overwhelming the system. If it's too strict, real threats slip through. There's always a middle ground.'

And that was where I could strike.

The transplant I had placed onto Zharokath—a tiny seed of mana that I had woven into his defenses—was barely detectable. It emitted just enough energy to be recognized by my own spell, but it was buried within the ambient noise of mana that surrounded him. To Zharokath's filters, it would seem like just another part of the environment, lost in the sea of mana emissions.

But there was always the risk. There was no way to know for certain what kind of filters Zharokath's devices were using. If they detected even a slight irregularity, the signal could be disrupted, and the whole plan would fall apart.

I clenched my fists, focusing on the intricate web of mana flowing around me. 'How can I be sure that what I've planted will remain undetected?'

The answer was simple: lowering it enough to make sure that it is on the same level as the natural emissions.

But then, that implied something else.

How would I myself be able to transmit the signal? If such a low-level signal could be transmitted, wouldn't it already be done?

The question weighed heavily on my mind: If the signal was so low that it blended perfectly with natural emissions, how could I transmit it without losing it entirely? By normal physical rules, such a weak signal shouldn't be able to cover the distance I needed.

But then again, this wasn't just a world bound by physical rules.

Mana was different—mana had properties that could be manipulated in ways that defied the natural laws of the world. A fire-attributed mana would carry heat, while ice-attributed mana would radiate cold. Even lightning-attributed mana could carry electrical impulses, mimicking signals in the physical world. And I had been studying these properties long enough to understand how they could be applied in unconventional ways.

'The answer lies in mana's ability to contain and change properties,' I thought. The world of mana was vast, far more flexible than any simple signal system. And that was when my method began to take shape, the plan I had crafted from the very start.

There existed a type of plant—rare––that emitted a peculiar kind of mana to reproduce.

[Hiveshine]

Its mana worked like pollen, spreading over vast distances, carried by the wind. But what made it fascinating was how it absorbed the raw mana from its surroundings as it traveled. This allowed it to not only maintain its strength but expand its reach, amplifying its own signal the farther it moved.

'Pollen mana,' I had called it during my research. Its natural ability to absorb and grow, much like how plants spread their seeds, was the perfect method for transmitting a low-level signal over long distances.

As it traveled, it would draw mana from the surrounding environment, subtly amplifying itself without raising suspicion. It blended with the ambient noise, growing stronger without ever crossing the threshold that would trigger Zharokath's filters.

And this was the essence of my plan.

When Maya had fallen and lost her balance thanks to the demonic energy at that time, I had greased a slight amount of such pollens right onto Zharokath's body.

And now the mana had such property.

It was a tiny seed, so faint it barely registered as a disturbance. But as it moved, as it traveled through the air with him, it would begin to absorb the raw mana around it, expanding its range and signal amplitude without ever drawing attention. To Zharokath's devices, it was just another part of the environment, harmless and indistinguishable from the background noise.

'And now I can see it.'

Thanks to the rigorous training I had undergone with Reina, my [Eyes] had become far more than just a tool for perception—they were a finely tuned instrument. Every type of mana had its own signature, and I had learned how to filter out the irrelevant, focusing only on what mattered. The moment I applied the pollen mana to Zharokath, I knew it would leave behind a trail—one that only I could see.

I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing my senses to adjust, focusing on the ambient mana around me. Then, as I opened them again, the world shifted. The familiar patterns of the city's mana flows faded into the background as I honed in on the specific signature of the pollen mana I had planted.

'There it is,' I thought, my gaze locking onto the faint but distinct trail.

It spread out across the city, like delicate threads of light that only I could see, winding through the streets and alleyways. The mana had already begun to spread, absorbing the raw energy from its surroundings, amplifying itself just as I had anticipated. It was subtle, nearly invisible to anyone without my training, but to me, it was as clear as day.

I stood on the rooftop, tracking the trail with precision, my eyes scanning the city below. The threads of mana converged, all pointing toward one location—a building in the distance. That was where Zharokath was hiding. The source of the pollen mana pulsed faintly, marking his exact position.

'No more running.'

With my [Eyes] focused on the trail, I leaped from the rooftop, moving swiftly and silently through the city.

SWOOSH!

Thanks to the [Grapple] spell that I had learned from Tianna, the speed of traveling at this point became much and much faster.

Zharokath's protections were formidable, but this time, they had failed him. The pollen mana had spread without resistance, and now, with my ability to filter and focus on the exact signature, he was exposed.

As I approached the building, the intensity of the mana trail grew stronger and more concentrated. The raw mana from the city had fed it, amplifying the signal to a level that made it impossible for me to lose track. Zharokath was here, just within reach.

I landed silently on the rooftop of the adjacent building, my cloak blending into the night. Below me, the high-rise building where Zharokath was hiding loomed, its polished exterior masking the layers of defenses that lay within. The neighborhood was one of the more affluent districts of Ardmont, each building outfitted with advanced security measures. But Zharokath's setup was far more than just physical.

Countless artifacts and formations surrounded the structure, each one carefully designed to distort, mask, and confuse. They worked in tandem to hide what was inside, projecting false signals, blurring mana trails, and disrupting even the sharpest senses. It was clear that for Zharokath, staying hidden was his highest priority. If he remained unseen, he could continue his operations safely. If discovered, he would simply abandon the place and vanish into the night.

But as I crouched on the rooftop, my [Eyes] cut through the illusions and distractions, revealing the truth behind the layers of defenses. The walls might as well have been transparent to me. I could see beyond the false mana signatures and scrambled signals, zeroing in on Zharokath's presence.

'So this is where you're hiding,' I thought, my eyes narrowing as I observed the building's defenses.

He had gone to great lengths to shield himself, but none of these tricks would stop me. The artifacts were primarily defensive, focused on misdirection and masking rather than direct combat. That told me something important—Zharokath wasn't expecting a fight. His whole strategy revolved around staying hidden and running when necessary.

But now he had nowhere to run.

I could see his figure inside, cloaked in layers of magic, seated comfortably as if unaware that his time was running out. The mana that surrounded him pulsed with demonic energy, but through the distortions, I could make out his form clearly. He was waiting, confident in his protections, unaware that they had already failed him.

'He's overconfident,' I realized, watching how relaxed he seemed. 'He doesn't think anyone can find him here.'

That was his mistake.

I took a moment to analyze the formations.

'Total of 3 shield formations and 5 sound alarms.' The mana flows were complex but predictable, each formation designed to deflect or warn, not to attack. Zharokath's focus was clearly on keeping himself hidden and safe, trusting in these layers of defense to keep intruders out.

'That will make things easier,' I thought.

With a deep breath, I activated my [Shadowborne] trait. My presence faded into nothingness, my form blending seamlessly with the surrounding shadows. The night itself seemed to swallow me, and in an instant, I was a ghost—a wraith moving unseen through the city.

SWOOSH.

I moved swiftly and silently, leaping from the rooftop and approaching the building. The patrols were predictable, their patterns designed to cover every angle, but to my [Shadowborne] form, they were irrelevant.

I slipped past the guards, their eyes never once landing on me as I weaved through the shadows of the high-end neighborhood.

As I neared the building, I extended my vision, feeling the flow of mana around me. The shield formations pulsed faintly, and I could see the alarm systems ready to trigger at the slightest disturbance. But the weakness of any defense was its core—the place where the formation drew its power.

I reached out with my mana, my fingers tracing the invisible lines of energy that connected the formations to their source. 'There,' I thought, pinpointing the locations of the cores within the building. Each one would have to be disabled if I wanted to avoid an alert.

Carefully, I approached the first core, hidden behind a stone pillar near the entrance. My fingers brushed lightly against the formation, and I channeled a small pulse of mana into the weak point, disrupting the flow without triggering any alarms. The shield flickered for a moment, then disappeared entirely.

One down.

I moved deeper into the building, slipping past more patrols and guards as I made my way through the hallways. The second shield formation was hidden inside a small room just off the main corridor. Once again, I applied the same technique, carefully severing the mana flow without raising any alarms.

As I moved from formation to formation, I dismantled each one with precision, cutting through Zharokath's defenses like a knife through cloth. With each core disabled, the building became more vulnerable, and soon there was nothing left to protect him from the storm that was about to come.

With the defenses out of the way, I stood in the dimly lit hallway, my presence still cloaked by [Shadowborne]. Zharokath had no idea that his protections were gone. No alarms had sounded. No guards had been alerted.

I was in complete control.

Now, all that was left was to strike. The fight would be clean, efficient, and without interruption.

The trailing was over, and it was not the time to hunt.