Hunter’s Blade

C2 Hunter’s Way

Shire shivered and slashed wildly with his sword.

The greatest power of a devil was its ability to affect people’s mind. Every devil represented a certain concept. If one’s will was not strong enough, his mind would be invaded by the devils and would be tainted by their power, becoming their servants.

In other words, he would be “corrupted.”

Like what happened just now, when Shire saw the devil weapon, countless images of sharp blades rushed into his mind and inundated his thoughts.

Blades, slaughtering, blood… Countless dazzling images appeared in front of him. The reality was intertwined with illusion, his eyes becoming bloodshot. If he stayed in this illusion for too long, Shire could easily fall into depravity and turn into a devil himself.

In this moment of desperation, he had no choice but to chant the Devil Hunter’s incantation loudly. “Yafen Flame!”

The flame was not intended to attack the enemy, but to raise the hunter’s vigilance by scorching his soul with a burning pain.

Shire felt an unprecedented pain in the depths of his heart. An invisible flame was burning within. When necessary, he could also pull the Yafen Flame out of his body.

His heart was ablaze. The rush of illusory blades in front of him disappeared, and his senses returned to reality.

Shire instinctively raised his hand to block the incoming devil weapon. The devilish blade collided with the sword in his hand, creating an ear-piercing shriek. The strong impact knocked Shire to the ground, and then the sharp blade flew upwards, adjusting its trajectory, preparing to kill Shire.

He breathed heavily and held his sword tightly.

‘Its attack is too strong. I can’t fight it head on,’ Shire thought quickly.

Seeing that the red and black devil blade was about to slash down again, he struggled to get up.

“Stop the incantation already before it burns your soul up!” Etienne quickly rushed to Shire’s side, holding his long sword. When the flying blade swung down, he accurately stabbed. The tip of his sword hit the cursed weapon, successfully changing its trajectory.

The devilish weapon cut across the grass and then began to circle in the air again, looking for the next opportunity to attack.

The Yafen Flame would eventually burn up the Devil Hunter’s soul, turning them into soulless puppets and of course Shire was well aware of this. He hurriedly calmed the flames in his heart and stood up with his sword in hand.

Etienne had warned Shire that the longer the Yafen Flame lasted, the more of his soul that it would consume. Left unchecked, it could torch the soul of a mortal within a few seconds, and thus it must not be misused.

Shire lowered his head and observed his sword. At the place where the devil’s blade had just struck was a shocking crack. The steel had caved in, and even the entire sword had changed shape.

‘The weapons we forged are so fragile that they would be easily shattered by a devil’s hasty creation?’ Shire found it hard to believe.

‘How could a human be able to fight against such a monster anyway?’ Shire took a deep breath, and yet the devil weapon was ready to launch its second round of attacks.

This cursed weapon was obviously made by the Blade Devil, and it contained a powerful evil force. The blade was slightly curved, with a sharp edge, and it had a ferocious appearance. When it moved in the air, it would let out a slight whistle.

Shire tried very hard to concentrate and calm his mind to prevent his consciousness from being affected by the devil again. Etienne, on the other hand, had been through hundreds of battles. He was calm and unhurried, and was not affected by the devil even if he looked straight at the devil blade.

Swoosh! The cursed blade swiftly slashed at Shire. It knew that Shire was the weaker of the two. Shire held his sword to block, but the blade quickly changed direction in the air, which took Shire by surprise. It dove down at high speed, the air buzzing as the blade slashed at his feet.

‘I’ll be damned.’ Shire instinctively retreated, but his speed was much slower, and if he did not do anything, his legs would be cut off.

He gritted his teeth and swung the sword with all his might. He slashed downwards diagonally, and his weapon collided with it again. Once again, the devil blade clashed with the sword in his hand. In an instant, he felt a tremendous force rushing towards him. He quickly held the sword with both hands, and the two weapons struggled against each other, with Shire at an absolute disadvantage.

Soon, the sword in Shire’s hand started to produce an ear-piercing shriek. Apparently, it could not withstand the heavy pressure and would be broken at any time.

Etienne did not immediately come forward to help. Muttering something, he aimed at the position where the sword and saber struggled against each other, then took out a bundle of rope from his pocket and threw it out forcefully.

The rope flew out agilely and made contact with the long handle of the devil’s blade. It wrapped around the handle and snaked across its length, intending to completely tie it up. Shire noticed that the force acting against his sword instantly dissipated. Trapped by the rope the devil weapon fell to the ground.

Shire knew this rope very well. It was Etienne’s treasure, called the “devil rope.”

In fact, every Devil Hunter grasped their own secret magic tools, spells, and potions. It was rare for people to freely exchange knowledge with each other. This was to prevent their absolute art from being leaked. The master would teach only his disciples, and no others.

“Shire, one day it will be your turn to control this treasure. Watch closely.” Etienne quickly pulled his hand back. The rope wrapped around the entire blade and moved in his direction.

‘I can do that in the future too.’ Shire looked at this unique magic tool and looked forward to it in his heart.

But then he noticed that something was wrong. The movement of the rope was unnatural. It seemed that it was not the rope that pulled the fallen blade, but the cursed weapon that pulled the rope and flew over.

“The blade is still moving!” Shire could not help but shout.

Etienne frowned. He threw away the magic rope and tightened his grip on his sword. The rope quickly fell off — it did not manage to take hold of the weapon. Dropping the pretense, the devil blade moved toward Etienne at blinding speed.

The old hunter frowned and focused on observing its movement. Then, he thrust his sword.

Ding —

The devil blade was accurately hit. It deviated from its original angle and did not pierce through Etienne’s heart. Instead, it passed through his body at an angle. A loud tearing sound cut through the air.

“Come here, use the devil rope to catch it.” Etienne did not move, but the leather armor that he was wearing had been slashed open, and blood was flowing out.

Shire clenched his teeth, and nervous sweat soaked his back.

He rushed over, picked up the rope next to Etienne’s feet, and aimed at the devil blade that was once again ready to attack.

“Old man, how much blood do you have left to bleed?” The devil’s soft voice sounded, then the blade spun and fled into the distance.

“You’re injured, master.” Seeing the cursed weapon flying up again, Shire could not help but look at Etienne’s wound and shouted in worry.

The injury seemed very serious. Where the flesh was cut, the armor was soaked red.

“Catch it!” Etienne cursed and continued to hold his sword in a ready stance. “Don’t mind me! Just… take it down!”

Shire aimed at the devil blade in the distance. According to the method taught by the old hunter, he quickly shook the devil rope and threw it at its target.

Once the rope left his hand, it quickly cut through the air and tightly wrapped around the blade. The cursed blade was trying its best to break free. Its desperate efforts had the rope bucking wildly in Shire’s hand. He grabbed the rope tightly and dragged it in his direction. The rope was imbued with a magic spell, making the rope stick to his palm, so that Shire could hold the rope tightly and not be pulled away.

Again and again, the devil’s powerful magic fought against Shire and the rope.

His feet pressed against the ground, creating shallow divots on the forest floor, while the blade kept trying to escape. The magic rope endured the two opposing forces, and it made a sizzling sound, as if it was going to break at any second.

Then Shire was overjoyed to find that the force was actually weakening.

The struggle had reached its peak. The devil weapon lost all its strength and fell suddenly. Shire, who was still exerting his strength, staggered a few steps back and stabilized his body. His arms were sore and weak. Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled the rope back.

“Every devil represents a certain concept, and those things that have been corroded by it… will gradually become its servants.” Etienne watched as the blade was dragged to their side. “Minotaurs create small beasts with cow horns. The bloody devil crushes humans into a pool of blood, while the blade devil creates its own devilish weapon. That weapon’s only purpose is to kill. Living people, animals, bones and metals are all their materials… ”

“You’re wounded.” Shire was extremely worried.

“This is my body. Of course, I know that.” Etienne’s lips were pale, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead, “My body is covered with scars, so it’s not too much to have one more. Besides, I’m old and weak, and I won’t be surprise if I die the next second. So you have to remember every word I say and inherit all of my knowledge. In the future, you have to fulfill your duties, for the sake of both of us.”

‘You won’t die.’ Shire wanted to say that, but an ominous feeling lingered in his heart. Etienne could really die at any time, and once he died, it would be Shire’s turn to officially take over the job of hunting devils.

Shire dragged the rope back to him. The blade had lost its evil nature and turned into an ordinary black and red saber. Thinking that it might have once been a creature or even a human, he felt a chill run down his spine.

“Give me the saber. Now you go and burn that tree.” Etienne pointed at the green alder tree.

“Burn it?” Shire handed the devil’s blade to Etienne, and the old hunter put it on his belt.

“We can’t make it to the Dew Camp Stone before night falls. Instead of rushing in the dark, we might as well rest here. The burning tree will remind the others of our location. Hopefully, they will come and find us.” Etienne sat down beside the green alder tree, took out bandages, ointment, and a short knife, and prepared to treat his wound.

Shire had a knife and flint in his pocket. He squatted next to the root of the tree and readied to light the fire. Julius, who was hanging upside down, was covered in wounds all over his body. His dead eyes gazed at the surroundings emptily.

“Aren’t we going to put Mr. Julius down?”

“Burn him too. Turning to ashes in an unknown place is the most appropriate way for a Devil Hunter to die. If I die in the forest, then burn me down as well. Or else… alas… How good can our ends be? Or, sometimes, the devil breaks through our defenses and makes us their servants. Just now, you used the Yafen Flames and it was already very dangerous. If you don’t extinguish it in time, your soul will be burned away.” Etienne slowly took off his armor. He undid the latches on both sides of his torso.

It was not only the Yafen Flames, but the rest of the Devil Hunters’ incantations also used the soul as fuel. If too many of the spells were used at once, the hunter would lose his emotions, memories, and self-awareness. Many negative effects would appear, and they would practically lose what made them human.

Shire knew that Etienne was deeply troubled by the aftereffects of such heavy spell usage. Sometimes, the old hunter would wake up in the middle of the night, mistakenly thinking that he was in the middle of fighting with a devil. He would be in a tense mood at any time, and could only rely on drinking and sex to relieve the pressure he was under. In the past few months, Shire and Etienne visited every bar and brothel along the way. Shire learned a lot about the arcane techniques of dine-and-dash, credit, running a tab, and running from a tab.

“Mr. Julius died a horrible death…”

“His death means something.”

‘Means something?’ Shire did not understand. What was the meaning of dying a tragic death, hanging upside down, and being turned into a trap by the Blade Devil? He did not even know where Julius had actually died or which of the injuries on him had eventually killed him — that is, if he was even able to put up a fight.

He found a dried branch and struck the flint. He lit it up and then used the branch to start burning the tree trunk. The bark lit up as soon as it touched fire, and the flame slowly ignited on the surface of the tree. It soon spread, setting half the tree on fire. These flames burned and connected with each other, causing the bark to produce crackling sounds as it was torched. The blaze became brighter and brighter. Not long after, the crackling sounds of the flames could be clearly heard.

Being a Devil Hunter was really hard on a person, Shire could not help but think to himself. Surviving in the most dangerous places, fighting with all kinds of strange things, he did not even know if he would still be alive the next day.

He turned around and saw that Etienne had already taken off all the equipment on his upper body. His skin was full of runes, tattoos, and scars. The place where he had been cut just now happened to be between two huge and ugly scars, rendering the new wound rather inconspicuous.

“You should also learn to treat external injuries.” Etienne did not have a piece of unmarred skin on him. “Let’s drink some wine first. It doesn’t hurt to make your brain a little fuzzy. This is also a part of the joy of doing things at the right time. Don’t control yourself too much. In the future, you must remember to drink when you see good wine. Enjoy the good food when you still can, and go chase after the beautiful women when you see any. Who knows, you might get lucky. Try to live without regrets.”

Etienne was a professional drinker. Shire saw him take out a large bottle of strong liquor from his bag and drink two or three gulps of it.

“That hit the spot… This is water mixed with sea salt. I’ll use it to wash the wound.” After drinking, he took out a palm-sized bottle and poured it on the wound on his torso. “Damn it,” he hissed in pain.

After he washed the wound, the bleeding slowed down.

“… The witch’s ointment, just apply it and wrap it up with bandages. After that, we’ll leave it up to fate.” The old hunter pressed his forehead to feel his temperature. “Most people die of infection, but those who survive received the otter witch’s blessing. From then on, they will get stronger and be able to endure more damage than others. Come and help me.”

Etienne opened a metallic container and smeared the purple paste on the wound. Shire wrapped the bandage around Etienne’s body. When the first round was completed, blood quickly oozed out. After the second round, the bandage was completely dyed red. The wound was still eye-catching, but when the third round was wrapped… Only a splotch of dark red blood was left on the bandage, slowly spreading.

Etienne finished the rest of the liquor and stared at the tree in flames.

“I hear something. Behind us… someone is coming. I can’t deal with them in my current condition. Shire, go and see if it’s another puppet or the other hunters. Be careful. If you die… I’m finished too,” Etienne said in a low voice. The alcohol and pain made him look unprecedentedly weak.

Shire nervously swallowed and looked at the shadow behind them.

He could not help but take a deep breath to maintain his calm. The sky was dark. The night was falling. There was a blurry shadow approaching them. Its posture looked weird. He readied himself.