Hunter’s Blade

C8 – Practice

“You think we haven’t done well?” Etienne stared at Shire, causing unease to creep in. “Do you think we should not have sacrificed our people?”

“No,” Shire concealed his doubts deep within. He understood that there were certain things he couldn’t reveal to Etienne.

“I infiltrated the black Magi market and caused a tremendous commotion. I slew numerous formidable male and female Magi. I arrived at the altar amidst the ritual and saw you, along with eight or nine other young children, bound together. Why did I choose to keep only you by my side and train you as a Devil Hunter?”

“I don’t know,” Shire truly didn’t comprehend. The other children were all set free and returned to their parents. Only Shire had been insisted upon by Etienne to be taught hunter skills.

“Because you didn’t cry. You were the only child who didn’t hesitate to shed tears.”

“I never cry,” Shire felt a hint of surprise. “The villagers used to say I didn’t even cry when I was born.”

“We have a single criterion for recruiting new hunters—resolute determination, and you meet that criterion.”

“Dalton… Dalton is also a hunter, yet he escaped. He made the decision to return home. Does he also possess resolute determination?”

“People change. Perhaps one day in the future, you too will shed tears due to something.”

“No.”

Etienne shifted his gaze towards the forest, and then his eyes returned to Shire’s face.

“This is a serious question. We have two choices: either sacrifice one or two individuals to get injured or even lose their lives, in order to successfully suppress and banish the Blade Devil. Alternatively, we can confine it within the Holy Church… or we refrain from sacrificing any Devil Hunter, but in doing so, we cannot catch up to the Blade Demon. We allow it to escape to other countries and regions. Just imagine, a true Devil God. Once it reveals itself to the public, mere mortals won’t stand a chance against its overwhelming power. Their souls will be instantly corrupted, plunging into depravity.”

“So… Denver is dead,” Shire whispered. Denver had also fought hard for his life.

“Yes, he is gone, but in doing so, he saved millions of innocent lives,” Etienne affirmed. “That’s why I mentioned that their deaths held meaning.”

What if one day it’s our turn to be sacrificed?”

“I found myself in a similar situation decades ago, Shire. If I lacked the strength to defy my fate, then I would simply have to accept the arrangement.”

Shire felt trapped within a dilemma.

“When Denver dies, you will understand the significance of his sacrifice. That’s what sacrifice entails. If we let him perish without understanding anything, it would have been an empty sacrifice,” Shire scrutinized Etienne.

“Don’t entertain any unnecessary thoughts,” Etienne placed his hands on Shire’s shoulders and gazed into his cloudy eyes. He raised his voice and declared, “On the stage where demons and hunters clash, with their lives hanging in the balance, as long as you keep your focus on the ultimate goal of defeating demons, you will be fine. Discard all other thoughts!”

Shire was silent.

“Now I will teach you another important spell. Remember its rhythm and tone. Make sure you can perfectly repeat it. Do you understand?”

“… Understood.” Shire nodded.

Etienne faced the empty expanse and recited the incantation of the hunters, saying, “Banish From Beyond the Sky.”

“Banish Beyond the Sky,” Shire repeated after him.

Etienne gazed at Shire, adjusted his cloak, and addressed him, saying, “You should stay here to practice and await our return.”

“What? Mr. Etienne, you’re not going, are you?”

“Ridiculous! I remained here out of concern for your well-being. I must go. If we fail to vanquish the demon due to my absence, it would be a tremendous defeat. I would live with the burden of failure for the rest of my life. You stay here and never leave.”

Before Shire could utter a word, Etienne swiftly turned away and departed from the ruins of Dew Camp Stone, venturing into the depths of Twilight Forest.

Shire’s hand rested upon the Dew Camp Stone, feeling its chilling touch.

As a Devil Hunter, his duty was to hunt devils. Since he had willingly joined the ranks of hunters to combat the devils, it was understandable that he would be willing to sacrifice his life to eradicate them.

However… Shire vigorously shook his head.

While it was disheartening, he was not in a position to set the rules.

Just like observing a chess game, Shire had witnessed gamblers play a game called “King” at the tavern. They would engage in strategic exchanges using wooden chess pieces on the board. Although the chess pieces had distinct shapes, known as knights, soldiers, or officers, they were essentially the same in the eyes of the players. They could be moved, eliminated, or easily traded. All that mattered was securing the ultimate victory.

Is Frederick a chess player and are we mere chess pieces? The more Shire contemplated it, the more despondent he felt.

Perhaps it is also their strategy to keep me within the camp? If it were the Blade Demon…

Shire dared not delve deeper into that thought. He resolved to clear his mind of these distracting thoughts and concentrate on mastering the Hunter’s Spell.

“Phantom Divine Power,” he focused his attention and chanted the spell in a distinct tone. His words transformed into a magical incantation, causing the air to subtly swirl as an invisible force permeated the surroundings.

How should he use it?

Geffany had described this power as the ability to manipulate the flow of wind. Shire pondered deeply. A skilled Devil Hunter had the potential to maximize the effects of an incantation. Through concentration, they could subtly alter the incantation’s content, as well as its range and potency.

Likewise, using the Yafen Flame to ignite his own soul, Shire could only awaken himself by setting his soul ablaze. He allowed the flame to emerge from his palm, illuminating his surroundings—a soul flame devoid of any heat. However, he had witnessed Etienne using the same incantation to summon a soul golden flame, enveloping the entire body of the hunter. This supernatural golden flame had the power to consume everything.

Shire believed that if he could master the principles of casting the Phantom Divine Power, the potential of this spell would be boundless.

Firstly, he recalled the technique Geffany had demonstrated to him—”Stop.”

He picked up a stone and tossed it high into the sky. The stone ascended rapidly and descended after reaching its peak.

“Phantom Divine Power!” Shire chanted the incantation, fixating his gaze on the space beneath the stone. He concentrated his will upon a single point.

It was there.

The rock landed gently on the ground and rolled across the grass, unaffected by its journey.

It seemed that he still had a long way to go. Should he continue practicing? Shire contemplated deeply. The Hunter’s Spell drew upon the soul as its energy source, necessitating cautious planning during practice. Repeating the spell within a short timeframe would result in significantly higher energy consumption.

By reducing the frequency of spell usage and preserving his soul, he could live a safe life until the age of seventy. Striving to practice relentlessly, mastering every aspect and technique of the Hunter’s Spell, becoming an expert in the field. This path would lead to an empty shell of a soul by the age of forty.

Just go… practice! Shire’s heart became ruthless.

Based on his observations, he realized that without sufficient strength, others would view him as a sacrifice. Otherwise, he would end up like Dalton—unable to protect himself and forced to flee. However, if he were alone, the chances of safely leaving the forest would be slim.

He diligently practiced from morning till evening.

Shire repeated the incantation a total of 127 times.

Initially, the effect of the Phantom Divine Power was feeble, and its position remained highly unstable. It proved completely ineffective. However, as Shire continued to utilize it, comprehend its essence, and reflect upon it, he gradually gained a deeper understanding of the entire incantation.

Shire devised a method to record the incantation by himself.

Each syllable was assigned a specific tonal representation. He established various levels for these tones, with lower numbers denoting lower pitches and higher numbers denoting higher pitches. While Shire’s grasp of counting was limited, he managed to master numbers from one to twenty.

After assigning a tonal symbol to each syllable of the incantation, he deliberately altered the pitch of each syllable. Subsequently, he tested the resulting changes that occurred upon casting the spell.

Through repeated trials, he examined which syllables formed the core of the incantation, identifying that any alterations to these syllables would render the entire incantation ineffective. He also explored which syllables influenced the power and range of the incantation.

The area in front of Dew Camp Stone had been disrupted by Shire. It bore intricate notes, markings, and symbols that Shire had inscribed himself.

He barely ate during the afternoon. The majority of his time was spent experimenting with his comprehension of spells. Shire had never revealed this habit to any other Devil Hunter. Not even Etienne was aware of it. Shire feared being ridiculed, as he had never witnessed another Devil Hunter employing his method of recording incantations. Other hunters simply memorized the rhythm of the incantation and unleashed it. In contrast, Shire engaged in meticulous analysis, considering his approach to be foolish.

As Shire painted on the ground and delved into the incantation, an unprecedented sense of joy enveloped him. This became his preferred form of entertainment. Every time he unraveled a connection between tonal shifts and the effects of the incantations, Shire felt a profound surge of inspiration.

The outcomes of this day’s work would soon be put to the test.

Shire retrieved a stone and tossed it into the sky.

Unlike the previous stones, this one was palm-sized and distinct in its composition. It soared into the sky before descending rapidly.

Shire intently focused on the spot where the stone would land.

Altering the tone of his voice, adjusting the intensity of his energy, and concentrating his mind, Shire endeavored to pinpoint the precise location.

“Phantom – Divine Power!”

Xiu – In an instant, a powerful gust of wind swept through the air, and an invisible force altered the wind’s direction and the airflow. In Shire’s eyes, it resembled an unseen staff striking a stone suspended in the air. The stone swiftly changed its course and flew horizontally, with remarkable speed, crashing into the distant wall of the ruins. A loud knocking sound reverberated.

Witnessing such an effect, Shire felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

However, Shire couldn’t help but feel a tad perplexed. Was this how the incantation was meant to be employed? Geffany had described it as a defensive spell, yet Shire found himself slightly confused. After practicing for an extended period, his mouth had gone dry, and he felt lightheaded, making it challenging to think clearly.

Just as the sun began to set, casting a darkening hue across the sky, the moment that Shire had been both worried and eagerly anticipating finally arrived.

“Ha-ha-ha!” A hoarse laugh rang out.

Shire discerned footsteps emanating from the forest’s edge, accompanied by the sound of heavy objects being dragged. In an effort to prevent the hunters from mocking him upon witnessing his drawings, Shire swiftly wiped away all traces on the ground using his hands. He repeatedly kicked and drew, erasing the marks and symbols.

The hunters returned from their intense battle.

As Shire gazed at their figures, an inexplicable sensation of heart palpitations washed over him.

Slowly, the people made their way toward the Dew Camp Stone’s encampment. The massive shadow trailing behind them appeared to be…

Blade Demon.