Chapter 95: Hunt

    When I woke from my slumber, I was met with the cold white ceiling of a hospital room.

    After my vision cleared up a bit more, I sat up slowly and scanned the room, recognizing the Magisterium’s own medical ward.

    It took another minute for the throbbing in my head to settle down enough for me to process everything. The memories came racing back, my Psyka overwhelmed just trying to categorize everything.

    Dreams served me well in formation advancement; they served better in helping me understand my memories. By the time I had made sense of everything, the situation had been laid out and analyzed in a far more objective manner than previously. I had gotten too caught up in the extreme circumstance and lost myself back then.

    Now I could look back at what happened with a clear head.

    And I didn’t like it one bit.

    I had been denied a vital boost in power. I was to be mocked with my own trophy. Carrion shed his mask and toyed with me as a cat might a mouse. We were now assuredly mortal enemies.

    It was almost odd how that worked. I didn’t think I could ever have a mortal enemy like that. But by now I was pretty sure both of us wanted each other dead. The only thing stopping either of us were our statuses, and Carrion’s own biases.

    I wasn’t worth the trouble to kill. Not yet anyway. If nothing else, he made that fact clear.

    I suppose it was actually a good gauge. I at least knew that there wouldn’t be any serious attempts on my life yet. My powerful detractors still thought I was just an annoying bug.

    And so I was denied my Crown, but that meant nothing changed. I could keep moving forward as I had been.

    I tapped my Aerial and made a call.

    “Yes?”

    Maxwell’s enthusiastic voice sounded in my mind.

    “Yea, hi. So funny story...”

    I gave him a quick rundown of what happened, causing him to go silent for a few moments.

    “...Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about this. I’m not what I once was. If anything, you got off lucky. The only thing holding Carrion back was fear for his reputation and complete arrogance. The situation could’ve gone much worse. You should be glad Carrion thought so little of you.”

    I hummed at his succinct appraisal.

    “So now it’s just a costly lesson, and a mistake you won’t make again in the future. You’ve lost another layer of insurance, but at least you weren’t making any significant bets on it. In the end, this changes nothing.”

    “I know. Back to training it is then.”

    “Indeed. There will be opportunities again in the future. And at least now you know the things nobles will do, even if only to be petty. You lost an opportunity for growth. He merely said a few words to those under him. The power nobles wield is far greater than your own, so, for your own sake, stop provoking them.”

    “I’ll do my best.”

    “Pray that it’s enough.”

    He hung up with that response, making me click my tongue as I put my wrist down.

    I immediately lifted it back up and noticed the time: well into the next day. A few notifications from Umara popped up, all during my vacation from consciousness.

    My rampant Aura back then really took its toll. My emotions had reached such an extreme that I almost completely detached from them, as odd as that sounded. And as a result, my Aura had sharpened significantly.

    Perhaps in an attempt to express my rage, my Aura had clawed against Carrion’s. But it was completely stifled in its attempts.

    Carrion was simply too powerful. The best metaphor would be a scalpel trying to cut through a foot of solid steel armor. There simply wasn’t anything I could do, no matter how much experience sharpened my blade.

    This was maybe also a good thing. Our fight, if you could even call it one, was one of Aura. No physical traces other than my blood were left behind; should Carrion claim I tried assaulting him, he would have to fabricate evidence in his support, and would still be laughed out of court at the mere idea of a student 7 Authorities below him coming even close to hurting him.

    It had also served as a sort of tempering. That was the first time my Aura had been so unrestrained and yet utterly confined. It was a valuable experience, using my ability in such an extreme way.

    At least I hadn’t come out with nothing.

    I sighed while dialing Umara.

    “Hey John.”

    “Hello, my sweet. How are you doing?”

    I asked with a bright smile. It felt good to hear her voice.

    She sighed.

    “It’s fine. Boring, maybe a bit irritating, but fine. How about you? I tried to call you yesterday. Are you alright?”

    “Of course. I was just occupied for a while.”

    “Good. How about matters with the corpse? Is a Crown viable?”

    She asked expectantly. I had naturally told her about my plans when I thought of them. I just never expected things to go this way.

    But I didn’t want her to worry. She was dealing with things on her end so I wouldn’t burden her with yet another issue until she was free.

    “I’m not sure yet. The stuff regarding crowns is pretty complicated, and I’m still waiting to get news on what the Magisterium is doing. I’ll know later when people start coming back from vacation.”

    “Alright. I’ll try and finish things over here. I want to be back sometime within the next few days. That way we can have some quiet time to ourselves before things pick back up.”

    “Sounds lovely.”

    I offered a pleasant agreement.

    We went on to talk for a while. There were no doctors to disturb me so we had a nice conversation before hanging up for the night.

    I proceeded to leave the hospital, checking out with a clerk before going to the hotel.

    “Hello John.”

    I was greeted by an ever so familiar face, him and his pristine white gloves that handed out the occasional key.

    “Hey, Key Master. How’s the night?”

    “It’s been rather busy with the war going on in the Market. Thankfully the initial explosive confrontations are over, be it because tensions are lower or the warlocks are dead. Now all we have to deal with is the constant skirmishes throughout the city.”

    “I see. Do you think Tavera Family’s coming out ahead?”

    “Hard to say. They’re being attacked from every possible angle, stretched as thin as they can be without breaking. But the fact that they haven’t been defeated speaks volumes as to the power they’ve accumulated over the years.”

    “Seems so.”

    “It’s a silencer, so it silences the gun. Reports show that it reduces sound at the muzzle by a third. It does nothing to prevent the crack down range, but it almost entirely eliminates muzzle flash, so I’m fitting you guys with them. We’ll be doing plenty of night operations soon and these will hopefully be of great help.”

    “Where does the bayonet go?”

    “Nowhere. These can’t fit them with the silencer there. But we won’t be fixing bayonets anytime soon, so get used to it.”

    After passing out all 20 rifles fitted with scopes and silencers, the major ordered us off.

    That night, we were back out in the field, flanking hostile operations establishing new trench lines under the cover of night.

    In the darkness, a muzzle flash easily exposed your position. Combined with the sound, it was almost impossible to keep your position hidden.

    But with these, it almost became easy.

    ...

    A bullet sang through the night, planting itself solidly into the forehead of a man barely visible in the dust and dying light. A few moments of silence reigned, then the camp burst into life. Alarms wailed for alerted ears and lanterns flashed to life in the darkness.

    Some of those lanterns were put out almost as quickly as they turned on. But one wasn’t, and it revealed a few men inside a small pit a bit farther away.

    I shifted my sights onto a highlighted silhouette, the light a consequence of negligence or a futile attempt at gathering more information.

    The supersonic whiplash of the bullet sounded right after I fired, right as the man’s figure crumpled out of sight.

    I had yet to be accurately located, but suppressive fire started plinking my way. I was still green; they hadn’t a damned clue where I was.

    Besides, I wasn’t the only one.

    Another shot rang out from my left and the gunner slumped back before his loader even had another belt of ammo in his hands. A third shot left the MG nest filled with naught but bodies.

    My partner next to me snickered.

    “Come on, keep going. Can’t let them beat you.”

    “Keep your trap shut and find me a target.”

    “One o’clock, there’s a runner.”

    I fired again, cutting him off mid-stride. I let out a low whistle after that shot, impressed that I even hit a moving target that distance.

    A spotlight suddenly flared, briefly washing out my vision and turning night into day. I remained perfectly still, letting what may well be a beam of light with deathly powers itself illuminate my motionless body, not even twitching as a bug meandered across my arm. It swept past us and back. The thumping in my chest grew louder. The beam slowed down near me, almost touching my leg, when-

    A report rang out again in the night. The almost musical sound of shattering glass reached my ears, and, more importantly, the light at my feet vanished.

    Another shot, another kill. Bullets continued to rain down on the outpost as enemies scrambled to find their killers.

    But they couldn’t. There was no muzzle flash, only the cracking sounds of each bullet as it took another life.

    There were too many soldiers to possibly kill even a majority of them with our small fire team. The enemy had also started sending squads up the hill we were on to hunt us down. While we could sometimes cut them down, and distance was definitely our friend, there were so many other targets we needed to focus on. It didn’t matter if they were picked off while ascending, they needed to find us. They couldn’t have snipers pelting them all night.

    However, right as I decided it was time to leave, my spotter spoke.

    “Hey, that’s a general! He’s got a gold bar!”

    “Where?”

    “In that car approaching from the northwest.”

    I slung my sights in on the location, and sure enough, I found the general riding shotgun.

    There was a golden badge on his right shoulder, one with two golden bars stacked on top of each other.

    I didn’t know what rank it specifically was, but it was a general, and that made him a high value target.

    Knowing that, I disregarded everything else and took a deep breath.

    I could only see and feel. Everything else felt dulled to the point of non-existence. My entire world was the cold steel of the trigger on my finger, the wood on my cheek, and the rapidly changing figure of the general. The flag nearby had already been marked by my spotter as being just under 500 yards away. It was a long shot and the car was moving, but I had hit longer.

    The car came to a momentary stop, and I found my opportunity.

    I had concerns about the driver blocking my shot as they turned at such an angle, but I didn’t have time to worry about that.

    I took my shot right as I felt sure.

    Then I watched intently for a second until the bullet landed, tearing through the head of the driver and piercing through the general’s neck just beyond it.

    One shot, two kills.

    “Holy shit. Major ain’t gonna believe that shit.”

    The engine of the car revved, the reaper taking control for a moment as it swerved to the side.

    My spotter laughed in disbelief before jumping up.

    “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

    “Yeah.”

    I tore my eye away from the scope, running uphill and away from the chaotic enemy camp.

    ...

    “Well damn.”

    My eyes opened, Springfield in hand before I realized it.

    I looked down and examined the new rifle. Optic mounted on top and the Maxim silencer on the end of the barrel.

    Not only had I attained this modified rifle, but now I had memories of someone taking an accurate shot at around 500 yards.

    The longest shot I had taken so far wasn’t much farther than 300 yards. Any farther was luck’s territory.

    But that shot wasn’t luck. That was cold, hard skill demonstrated by a sharpshooter.

    And now, I had those memories and experiences. I smiled and thought of the possibilities while rising from my bed.

    I had my target, and night was falling.

    It was time to hunt.