The Harvester

On second thought, maybe Shin-Woo’s confidence was a tad misplaced.

 

‘They barely weakened this thing for this Game,’ he thought as he teleported a short distance with the power of his Fae Tattoos, the ink glowing through his skin and clothes. ‘Prowlers are born with a level of at least 500. This one is fully mature; its power should originally be near the 700s.’

 

‘Maybe it was a mistake to make the first move…’ He grimaced as he once again heard the dull but sharp noise of something slicing the air; something that accompanied the Prowler every time it disappeared and reappeared in a burst of speed.

 

Similarly, Shin-Woo flash-stepped away and skidded on the sand, plunging a hand into the ground at the same time as a volley of crimson javelins were hurled at him. “[Elemental Dominion,]” he muttered and the sand around fell under his control, swelling into a giant hand that grasped the incoming projectiles before exploding along with them.

 

‘I thought the Arena would have weakened the Prowlers more than this,’ he clicked his tongue when he peered through the dispersing grains of sand to see the Prowler vanish under his eyes.

 

Without a thought, he instantly turned around and swung his sword to parry the claw of the silent creature swathed in a red aura. However, there was no contest following his parry; he was swiftly sent flying from the blow.

 

“Ugh…!” Shin-Woo gasped and spun, landing on thin air with Flash Step. Immediately, one of the papers he had created detached itself from the pile floating over his shoulder and slipped into his grip. “[Scroll Birth,]” he intoned and lines upon lines of rune were etched into the paper without delay. Then, he hastily ripped it in half with both hands. “[Sanctuary.]”

 

The two halves of the scroll immolated themselves in blue fire and on cue, twin magic circles were formed in the sky and on the ground, opposite to each other; in between which stood Shin-Woo. 

 

A golden cylindrical barrier connected both circles right in time to block an overwhelming wave of raw energy, splitting into two paths that opened trenches in the sand thousands of meters long and dozens deep.

 

“No wonder they call you an Anti-Army,” Shin-Woo huffed sarcastically as he briefly evaluated the damage. “Enough power to raze entire cities… with barely any effort. How you disburse that much raw energy on a whim is just ridiculous.”

 

The Prowler obviously didn’t respond. Instead, it stopped moving again, only its tail making one last swing before stilling as well. The creature stared at the golden barrier and almost faster than perceivable, its arm moved up and left an afterimage. 

 

A crescent-shaped attack collided with the Sanctuary right after, fast enough that it was almost as if both the swing and the effect had occurred simultaneously.

 

‘…just scary,’ Shin-Woo huffed sullenly. ‘Should I try sealing him? I have eight minutes to go… killing him will be hard and I don’t want to use the Silver Rule for this. Running is just hazardous.’

 

Apparently, the Prowler wasn’t about to let him formulate a plan as it calmly raised a single finger and pointed it at the Sanctuary. Lightning-like bolts of energy sparked and a marble-sized orb of power began to form at the tip of his index.

 

‘What a stupidly powerful and polyvalent ability,’ the spell swordsman clicked his tongue. ‘Irith, it’s time,’ he called and his tattoos glowed for a short second.

 

“{Understood,}” a soft female voice responded as a white lynx with two tails stepped into existence from behind him as if it had always been there.

 

“[Resonance,]” Shin-Woo uttered and Irith’s body broke down into motes of light and joined his as one. His pupils shrunk and his irises turned a bright green, soon followed by the popping noises of his body adapting to a slightly greater height. 

 

His hair grew at least a few inches and its color became lighter. Faint whisker marks emerged on his face, preceded by two long lynx ears with black tufts at the tips and complemented by the pair of tails appearing on his back.

 

With renewed tranquility brought about by his Soul Beast’s personality, Shin-Woo calmly lowered his core and put one hand on the ground as if preparing to sprint.

 

‘One, two…’ He counted with narrowed eyes as the Prowler’s attack flashed. ‘Three!’ As if spurred by his own countdown, the creature shot a concentrated beam of energy.

 

Shin-Woo jumped out of his barrier, at a speed far surpassing his prior one, and perfectly timed to see the finger-thin laser punch a hole through the Sanctuary without even a millisecond's worth of resistance.

 

It struck the ground inside the barrier but didn’t explode and instead continued onward, making a strident noise as it traced a line toward the horizon. A breath later, from the fissure, a wall of red flames rose to the sky and turned the sand into blackened glass.

 

The Prowler lowered its arm almost eerily sluggishly. Then, with a half-opened hand, it conjured a chunk of energy into the rough shape of a sword without a cross guard.

 

The creature swung to his right, above his head, and clashed against Shin-Woo’s sword. The very instant the two weapons struck; the energetic blade generated a blast from its edge and shoved the offender away.

 

‘Tch, reactive counter?’ Clicking his tongue, the Half-Fae retreated into the air, the Prowler jumping after him. Every time their blades touched, an explosion would rattle his arm, and on the occasions that he would find an opening in the crude but effective sword techniques of the Wilden, his blade would bounce off a reactive armor of the same ilk.

 

‘As expected, even with Irith, I can’t keep up,’ he thought and dodged a swing meant to cut his skull in half by a hair’s breadth, his green feline eyes glowing at the same time. He watched as his vision was overlapped by a secondary image and flash stepped even more up the sky when the Prowler decided to self-destruct his blade in a converged cone.

 

‘No matter, I have you where I need you,’ Shin-Woo narrowed his eyes and ejected a pre-prepared scroll from his pouch. “[Scroll Edge,]” he muttered and slashed the scroll. Immediately, a string of water suddenly coiled around his weapon and the sky became clouded.

 

The Prowler looked up, its eyes shifting for the first time. It straightened itself and began to charge the biggest orb of power it had yet to form between its horns, spiraling all the way.

 

“[Noach Genesis,]” the spell swordsman spoke up as if rendering a judgment and rain began to fall from the clouds; yet it did not reach the ground. Every single drop of water was dragged to the tip of his blade, each at a faster pace than the previous.

 

It didn’t take more than a few seconds for the entire downpour to be absorbed by the sword and cause it to shine like a gem. Without delay, Shin-Woo swung the weapon downward and with the booming sound of a tsunami, a giant arc of water was fired.

 

The Wilden released its attack at the same time, however, despite its potency, it never got a chance to demonstrate it. Almost gently, the water wrapped around it and swallowed the energy before persisting forward unimpeded.

 

The Prowler’s eyes only widened slightly before the desert was struck. A large bouquet of water erupted in the blink of an eye and for a moment, the stage resembled an ocean until it spread and was absorbed by the natural dryness of the sand.

 

Once it had passed, the Prowler emerged, nothing more than wet and disoriented, its talons stuck in a thin layer of quicksand. And leaving no room for it to catch its bearings, its body was suddenly bound by ropes of light.

 

Three burning scrolls floated around him, forming a perimeter, and if the Wilden could speak, only one word would have left its mouth, ‘When?’. Something that was answered quickly by the sound of giggling; miniature elemental beings carrying the scrolls; spirits.

 

“[Scroll Birth,]” Shin-Woo’s voice rang, and all the scrolls he had previously summoned fused into one, expanding in size by dozens of meters. With a wave of his hand, the object unrolled itself and descended to the ground, going through the Prowler and attaching itself to the sand.

 

The caster then landed at a safe distance and clasped his hands. “[Union Magic – Seitaad – Cage of The Beholden,]” he chanted and from the giant scroll’s center, the sand began to twist and turn like a whirlpool.

 

Unable to move, the Prowler was taken along with it and disappeared underground. But that was not the end of the spell. Once the whirlpool was fully formed, it began to reverse and instead rise out of the ground.

 

Gradually, as a sphere of quicksand ascended, the pair of titanic hands made out of sand lifting it was revealed. Soon after, an unknown being’s head with bright yellow eyes came out, followed by a large torso, and a twister of sand replacing the legs.

 

This summoned being was named Seitaad; Spirit King of the Earth Element.

 

Shin-Woo sighed and unclasped his hands as he watched the sphere being held in an iron grip by his spirit. Even as blades and beams of crimson energy tried to pierce through the quicksand, the Prowler trapped inside wouldn’t be freed unless he ran out of mana.

 

“My win,” the swordsman huffed.

 

* * *

 

“Eeh… interesting,” Zialtra remarked as they finished watching the Prowler being sealed. By that point, already more than fifty participants had been eliminated. “Even if it was weakened by more than half, it was quite a good display.”

 

“That was less than half of that thing’s power?” Allan exclaimed in surprise.

 

“Of course, and I’m speaking in terms of level,” she huffed. “I’d say… that was about level 300. Not too shabby but if it was a true Prowler, everyone in this tournament would have been dead within a few seconds. I would know since I almost died myself to a few of them in the past.”

 

Kaelith snickered. “Do you know what’s scarier than one Prowler?” She asked without intending to get an answer and Allan tilted his head. “Two of them,” she smirked. “Or three, four, etcetera. These things have no trouble banding together and are stupidly good at cooperating. It’s as if they can speak to each other in a way we don’t understand.”

 

“…if we ever meet some, I’m just gonna hide behind Rak,” the werebat deadpanned.

 

“So, your friend is a Scroll Edge? I haven’t seen that in a while,” Azheim rewound the topic and the therian nodded.

 

“Yes, as far as I know, that’s his Path. Though I personally have no knowledge of its abilities.”

 

“It’s rather self-explanatory honestly. But not lacking in depth either. The core aptitude of a Scroll Edge is to condense a scroll’s spell into a sword by cutting it. Let’s say you created a scroll capable of summoning a storm. In itself, it wouldn’t be dangerous. But a Scroll Edge can contain everything about it inside their sword and release it in one single swing of devastating power.”

 

“Like that water spell, huh?” Rakna mused.

 

“Exactly. Quite an ingenious choice as well. The water element is exceedingly good at dampening energy. Out of the primary elements, it’s the strongest buffer. Even the Prowler’s Slātta Raja was snuffed out. Additionally, it increased his next spell’s potency by wetting the sand. Talented, that friend of yours.”

 

The therian snorted in amusement. “I agree, though the man himself might not,” he said. “He was given a chance to get stronger and he simply took it. From what I’ve gleaned of his personality, he would probably just chalk it up to gratuitous luck.”

 

Zialtra raised an eyebrow. “Humble much?”

 

“Not quite either,” Rakna retorted and left it at that, ending the conversation. 

 

They continued to watch the matches, some catching their attention, and it eventually ended with about a hundred people left. Only a third of the initial participants survived till the end.

 

“Hm? Oh, looks like we have ‘visitors’ coming over here,” Kara suddenly commented as she gazed at a small group of nobles approaching their table. Rakna glanced at them and rolled his eyes.

 

“Let me guess; Nefertrion?”

 

“Yep,” the older vixen grinned and stood up. “All right. I know you don’t like dealing with this, so I will do it myself. Remember how you wanted to claim their assets as payment for the scuffle?” Her grin became insidious. “This is the time. In front of everyone here… I’ll take everything away from them in all validity. By tomorrow, Harvest will own 90% of Nefertrion’s properties.”

 

With those frankly terrifying words, Kara left to meet the group.

 

“…” Rakna didn’t know what to say.

 

“{Peer pressure tactics,}” Fray commented amusingly.

 

Kaelith sighed as she sipped on a cup of wine, observing as the aristocrats paled when they heard her mother’s greeting. “If only she could be this invested for her own Clan… you know, wolfy, that is probably the hardest she’s ever worked in her life and it’s just for you. Be happy,” she joked.

 

“Flattering…?” The therian said hesitantly and she giggled.

 

A few minutes later, the Nefertrion’s representatives were all seen teary and on their knees.