The Hunt Intensifies

The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second as Instructor Dong-soo's figure darted deeper into the forest. The three students found themselves racing through a maze of twisting shadows and shifting leaves, each footfall echoing their rising frustration. Tae-young's voice crackled through the comms, sharp and biting.

"What's the point of this, Instructor? Are you just gonna keep running forever?!"

Hyun-ae, not far behind, glanced at Joon-ho with a raised brow.

"He's not wrong. What are we even doing if there's no end in sight?" she muttered under her breath.

Before Joon-ho could reply, Instructor Dong-soo's smooth voice cut through their channels, calm but laced with a sly undertone.

"You raise a fair point, Tae-young. Let's raise the stakes, shall we? From now on, the rule has changed: it's not just about harming me. You'll need to eliminate me to claim victory. But don't get too comfortable—I'll be aiming to eliminate all three of you as well."

The announcement was met with a stunned silence. Joon-ho and Hyun-ae exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Instructor Dong-soo's words sinking in. Memories of their earlier bouts against him resurfaced, a grim reminder of just how much of a skill gap existed. During the preliminary tests, Instructor Dong-soo had dismantled their strategies with ease, a predator toying with its prey.

But Tae-young, ever the egoist, was thrilled.

"Finally, you're making this interesting!" His voice was alive with excitement, almost maniacal in its eagerness. "You do know I'm ranked above you in NexaRealm, right, Instructor?"

Joon-ho groaned audibly.

"Oh, here we go…"

"Let him," Hyun-ae whispered, her tone low but amused. "He's about to write a check he can't cash."

For Tae-young, this was more than a training exercise. This was personal. A chance to prove, once and for all, that his ranking wasn't just a number but a testament to his dominance. Charging ahead with reckless abandon, he cut through the terrain like a blade, his focus singular: to find and defeat Instructor Dong-soo.

Meanwhile, Joon-ho and Hyun-ae hung back, slowing their pace as they strategized.

"This isn't good," Joon-ho said, his brow furrowed. "Tae-young might be strong, but he's all about brute force. Instructor Dong-soo's going to eat him alive."

Hyun-ae nodded, her expression measured.

"Then we play smart. We use Tae-young as a distraction and take our shot when the Instructor's focused on him."

"And when he's done with Tae-young?" Joon-ho raised a sceptical brow.

"Then we fight together. We don't have his ego, remember?"

Hyun-ae's reasoning was sound, and Joon-ho reluctantly agreed. They both knew the stakes had shifted dramatically. This wasn't about small victories or grazing a target anymore—it was about survival in a game where the predator was far more experienced than the prey.

Instructor Dong-soo's voice chimed in once again, his tone almost teasing.

"I hope you're ready. The hunt begins now."

Tae-young moved with the precision of a predator, darting through the dense forest with his blades at the ready. His senses were on high alert, his eyes scanning every shadow and movement. The thought of Instructor Dong-soo running like a scared chicken fed his drive, stoking his ego further. But just as he convinced himself of the instructor's cowardice, a blur of motion erupted from the nearest bush.

A figure shot out, closing the distance with terrifying speed—Instructor Dong-soo.

The ambush was so sudden that even Tae-young's reflexes were tested. But as the top-ranked Assassin in Korea, he adapted instantly. In one fluid motion, he twisted his body, narrowly evading the instructor's initial strike while countering with a sweeping slash of his twin daggers.

The clash was deafening, the metallic ring of blades reverberating through the forest. Tae-young pressed forward, his attacks relentless. His movements were sharp, calculated, and unyielding—slashes, jabs, feints, and spins chained together in a seamless dance of death.

But Instructor Dong-soo, ever calm and composed, deflected each blow with near-effortless precision. His defensive stance was unshakable, every parry a lesson in control.

"Predictable," Instructor Dong-soo said, his voice even and maddeningly unbothered. "That spin was flashy, but it left your left side wide open. You should work on that."

"Shut up!" Tae-young snarled his voice a mix of frustration and fury. He doubled his efforts, unleashing a flurry of attacks so rapid that the air itself seemed to ripple. His blades became a blur, each strike aimed to pierce the instructor's guard.

Yet, Instructor Dong-soo maintained his composure, stepping back only when necessary, his feet gliding over the uneven terrain as if it were a polished floor.

"Impressive speed," he remarked. "But speed without precision? Wasteful."

Tae-young growled, spinning mid-air and bringing both blades down in a cross-cut aimed at the instructor's shoulders. The move was powerful, forcing Instructor Dong-soo to brace both his swords in an X to block the blow. Sparks flew as metal screamed against metal.

"Good power," the instructor mused, his voice calm despite the impact. "But overextending in mid-air leaves you vulnerable when you land."

Tae-young's feet touched the ground with a heavy thud, and true to the instructor's words, his recovery was slower than usual. Still, he wasn't one to back down. With a roar, he lunged forward, feinting to the right before spinning left in a lightning-fast backstab attempt.

But Instructor Dong-soo was already moving, his body tilting just enough for the blade to miss by a hair's breadth.

"Nice feint," he said, sidestepping gracefully. "But I've seen better."

"You talk too much!" Tae-young barked, his voice filled with frustration. He pushed himself harder, his stamina nearing its peak as he tried everything in his arsenal—shadow steps, blink strikes, even an intricate combo that chained together a series of acrobatics designed to confuse and overwhelm.

Instructor Dong-soo continued to evade with an almost infuriating ease, his tone steady.

"Your passion is admirable, Tae-young. But passion without strategy? It's like a fire with no fuel. It burns out fast."

That last comment pushed Tae-young over the edge. With a growl, he channelled everything into a final gambit. He launched into the air, twisting his body into a somersault while charging his daggers with Nexa energy. The glow of the blades illuminated his figure as he descended like a meteor.

But as his blades crashed down, Instructor Dong-soo wasn't there. He had stepped back just enough for the attack to miss, the energy discharge carving deep into the earth instead.

Before Tae-young could recover, the instructor's voice sounded behind him, calm as ever.

"Impressive. But tell me, what's your plan now that you've exhausted your stamina?"

Tae-young spun around, his breath heavy, sweat dripping from his brow. Despite his best efforts, the instructor remained unscathed, his calm demeanour intact. The realization gnawed at him, but he refused to give up.

With a growl, Tae-young raised his blades once more, his resolve unbroken despite the odds.

Tae-young steadied his breathing, the exhaustion weighing on him, but his blades remained firmly in his grasp. His pride wouldn't let him stop. Instructor Dong-soo, however, seemed untouched by the gruelling exchange. Standing a few paces away, his expression shifted ever so slightly—his usual calm gave way to something sharper, more predatory.

"I think I've seen enough of your offensive skills, Tae-young," Instructor Dong-soo said, his tone still maddeningly even. "Now, let's see how you hold up under pressure."

Before Tae-young could respond, the instructor vanished in a blur of speed, reappearing to his side in a fraction of a second. Tae-young barely managed to bring his blades up in time, the clash of steel vibrating through his arms as he blocked a lightning-quick strike aimed at his ribs.

The force of the blow sent him sliding back, his boots digging into the forest floor. But there was no time to recover—Instructor Dong-soo was relentless. He closed the distance again, his twin blades moving in a whirlwind of calculated strikes that left no room for error.

Tae-young parried frantically, his focus narrowing to the edges of the instructor's blades as they darted in and out like striking vipers. The precision was terrifying. Each attack wasn't just fast; it was purposeful, targeting weak points in Tae-young's stance and guard.

"Too stiff on your left," Instructor Dong-soo commented mid-combo, his blade sliding dangerously close to Tae-young's shoulder. "You rely too much on your dominant hand."

Tae-young growled, stepping into the next attack and pushing back with brute force. His daggers clashed against the instructor's swords, forcing the man to disengage momentarily. But it was clear—the momentum had shifted entirely.

Instructor Dong-soo pressed on, his movements fluid and unrelenting. He alternated between powerful slashes and deceptive feints, each one testing Tae-young's reflexes to the limit. And through it all, his voice remained calm.

"Defense isn't just about blocking, Tae-young," he said, slipping past the younger assassin's guard and delivering a quick slash that grazed his armour. "It's about control—of yourself, of your opponent, and of the flow of the battle."

Tae-young bit back a curse, pivoting away and trying to reset the distance, but the instructor was already there, cutting off his escape routes with precision footwork. It was suffocating. Every move Tae-young made seemed anticipated, countered before it even fully formed.

"You're quick, but you lack patience," Instructor Dong-soo continued, his strikes coming faster now, each one closer than the last. "A good Assassin doesn't just attack or defend—they adapt. They make their opponent play their game."

The words cut deeper than the blades, igniting a frustration that Tae-young couldn't suppress. He lunged forward with everything he had, his blades spinning in a desperate attempt to regain control.

But Instructor Dong-soo met the assault head-on, parrying with ease and spinning around Tae-young in a blur of motion. A sudden kick to the back sent Tae-young stumbling forward, barely managing to keep his footing.

As Tae-young turned, panting and defiant, he saw it now—the shift in the instructor's stance, the glint in his eye. This was no longer a chase.

Instructor Dong-soo was the predator now, and Tae-young was his prey.

"Let's see how long you can keep up," the instructor said, his voice still calm but now laced with an edge of amusement. With that, he launched forward, his blades a blur as the real test began.