CHAPTER 102: FOUND YOU

Most Hunters stopped looking for Fin days ago. Gone cold. Another rogue vanished, written off.

Not him.

He stood where Fin’s energy signature had spiked, then winked out. A week hadn’t erased everything. Faint traces lingered, like ozone after lightning. He knelt, pulling a device from his worn coat. Cylindrical, dark metal, humming faintly.

He held it low over the pavement. Needles flickered behind scratched glass.

’Weak resonance,’ he thought. ’Sealed tight.’

He packed the device away. Stood up. He already been to his apartment. Empty. Clean, almost sterile, except for faint residue near a repaired door.

He accessed the Guild archives too. Incident reports, Fin’s minimal mission history, Hana’s team data. All thin threads.

But combined with the residual energy here... patterns emerged.

He walked back towards the mouth of the alley, stopping beside a stack of overflowing dumpsters. He opened a battered case that looked like it held cheap tools. Inside, nested in worn foam, were precisely machined components.

He assembled them quickly, efficiently. A tripod. A focusing lens array. A receptor dish threaded with fine, silver wire.

He positioned the tripod carefully, angling the dish towards the spot where Fin vanished. He connected it to the cylindrical device from his coat, then to a small, rugged datapad. He powered it on. The screen flickered, displaying complex waveforms, scrolling numbers.

He tapped commands onto the datapad, fingers moving with practiced speed. Filtering ambient noise. Isolating the specific frequency band from the Guild reports. Cross-referencing with the resonance readings. Extrapolating decay rates.

The device hummed louder, the receptor dish glowing faintly. Numbers on the datapad stabilized, converging towards a specific set of coordinates. Not geographic. Dimensional.

He watched the screen, face impassive. A faint smirk touched his lips, gone almost before it formed.

’Found you.’

He began dismantling the equipment, packing it away as quickly as he’d set it up. No trace left behind.

The hunt was back on.

Most Hunters tracked people. He tracked places. Dimensions. Realms hidden between the cracks. Others punched holes in reality with raw force or rare artifacts. He didn’t need that. His power was different. Subtler.

He just needed the right frequency. The right signature. Get the math right, understand the wavelength, and he could open a door anywhere. Any when. To any hidden space.

He looked down the alley towards the spot where Fin had vanished. The air seemed normal, solid. But he knew better. He had the key now.

He pocketed the datapad. Adjusted the case on his shoulder. Took a step towards the empty air.

Then another.

His hand reached out, not touching anything visible. Fingers traced unseen lines, manipulating forces others couldn’t perceive. The air in front of him didn’t tear or shimmer violently. It simply... yielded. Like pushing through a heavy curtain that wasn’t there a moment before.

He stepped forward again, into the yielding space. And was gone.

The area remained empty.

---

The training ground was a wide, flat expanse behind the castle Fin inhabited. The ground was packed earth, swept clean. Wooden racks held practice weapons – swords, staves, blunt axes.

Fin stood near the center, arms crossed. He wore simple trousers and a loose tunic. Arachne, Scarlet, and Meg stood opposite him, spaced apart, each holding a plain wooden sword.

Arachne wore dark leggings and a tunic, similar to Fin’s. Scarlet wore loose grey pants and a dark red sleeveless top, her arms showing healed scars. Meg wore practical grey workout clothes, her bruised face mostly healed but still faintly discolored around the jaw.

"Again," he said. His voice was level. "Overhead cut. Watch your footwork, Meg."

Arachne moved first. Her sword cut down in a clean, fast arc, her feet shifting precisely, ending in a balanced stance.

Scarlet followed, her movement fluid, efficient, almost lazy, yet the sword cut the air sharply. She recovered smoothly.

Meg gripped her sword tighter. She lifted it high, stepped forward with her left foot, and swung down. The arc was wide, her balance shifted too far forward. She wobbled slightly as the sword finished its cut, her breath catching.

"Too much weight on the front foot," he stated. "Reset."

Meg nodded, stepping back, resetting her stance. Sweat beaded on her forehead, darkening the collar of her shirt. She adjusted her grip, knuckles white.

"Why are we doing this boring stuff?" Scarlet asked, tapping her wooden sword against her leg. "Can’t we just hit each other?"

"Basics first," he replied without looking at her. "If you can’t do the basics, sparring is useless. Again. Overhead cut."

Arachne performed the cut again. Perfect form, silent execution.

Scarlet sighed audibly but swung the sword. Again, fluid, effective.

Meg took a breath. Lifted the sword. Stepped. Swung. Better this time. Less wobble, more controlled. She ended the cut, breathing a little heavily.

He watched her.

He didn’t speak for a few seconds. "Better," he said. "Shoulders relaxed. Now, horizontal cut. Lead with the hip rotation."

Arachne demonstrated. The sword swept horizontally at chest height, her body turning smoothly from the hips, the blade a flat blur.

Scarlet mirrored the movement, adding a slight wrist flick at the end that made the sword whistle faintly.

Meg frowned in concentration.

She rotated her hips, bringing the sword across. Her arm moved slightly ahead of her body, making the swing less powerful, the blade dipping slightly at the end. She recovered, resetting her stance quickly.

"Keep the blade level," he instructed. "Imagine cutting through a target right in front of you. Don’t chop down."

"I’m trying," Meg said, her voice slightly breathless. She wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her forearm. "This thing is heavy."

"It’s wood," Scarlet commented dryly, balancing her sword easily on one palm. "Try swinging actual steel sometime."

"Ignore her," Fin said to Meg. "Focus. Horizontal cut. Again."

They repeated the horizontal cut several times. Arachne remained consistent. Scarlet looked increasingly bored but executed the moves cleanly. Meg improved gradually, her swings becoming more level, her body rotation more coordinated, though she still tired faster than the others, her breathing noticeably heavier after each set.

"Alright," he said. "Partner drills. Arachne, with Scarlet. Meg, with me."

Scarlet grinned. "Finally. Try not to break anything, spider-girl."

Arachne just gave Scarlet a flat, unimpressed look and moved into a ready stance opposite her.

Fin picked up a second wooden sword from a nearby rack. He faced Meg. "Basic block and counter. I attack overhead. You block high, then counter with a horizontal cut to the body. Ready?"

She nodded, licking her lips, gripping her sword. "Ready."

He raised his sword slowly, then brought it down in a controlled overhead strike, stopping well short of actual contact.

Meg lifted her sword to block, the wood clacking against Fin’s blade. The impact jarred her arm slightly. She pushed his blade away and immediately tried to swing horizontally. Her rotation was rushed, the counter-swing wide and slow. Fin easily stepped back, letting the sword pass harmlessly in front of him.

"Too slow on the counter," he said. "The block and the counter should flow together. One motion." He demonstrated slowly, blocking an imaginary blow, then flowing immediately into the hip rotation and horizontal cut. "See? Don’t pause."

"Okay," she said, adjusting her stance again. "Okay. Again."

He attacked again, overhead. Meg blocked, then countered. Faster this time, smoother. The sword still lacked force, but the motion was better connected.

"Good," he said. "Again."

Across the training ground, Scarlet attacked Arachne with a flurry of quick cuts, testing her defenses. Arachne moved minimally, efficiently, blocking each strike with precise movements, her feet barely seeming to leave the ground. She offered no counter-attacks, simply defended, her expression unchanging.

"Come on!" Scarlet taunted, circling. "Is that all you got? Block, block, block. Boring!" She lunged, feinting high before dropping into a low thrust.

Arachne sidestepped the thrust smoothly, her own sword tapping Scarlet lightly on the flank as she passed. "You are predictable," Arachne stated quietly.

Scarlet scowled, rubbing her side. "Lucky shot."

"Hmph."