Becoming a Hunter in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 11: The Evil Puppeteer (4)

Let’s turn back time for a moment—back to when Gale and Jaigo were locked in combat.

What was Elwin doing during that time?

“Achoo!”

Sitting with a deceptively peaceful demeanor… Elwin was sneezing non-stop.

Sniffling and fanning his nose with his hand, he looked pitiful beyond words.

“Is it all this dust? Snf, the air's just awful. Eh, eh-eh-ehchoo!”

But that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Behind the sneezing Elwin… lay a scene of complete and utter devastation.

Not only the village, but heaps upon heaps of what were once puppets were piled like mountains.

It hadn't even been that long, and he had taken down hundreds of puppets!

“May their souls rest in peace.”

Elwin offered a brief prayer in front of the mound of puppets, his appearance as pristine as it had been at the start—showing no signs of injury from the recent battle.

After finishing his prayer, he looked up at the sky.

“They should have found Molga by now, right?”

Molga may have been startled by the sudden attack, but Gale was a mercenary with a wide array of skills.

The cloak’s tracking function would’ve pointed them in the right direction, making it easy to locate Molga’s hideout.

“Then they would’ve rescued Jaigo… and might even be fighting together now.”

Despite being the tutorial boss of LAMPAS, Molga in his current state was a relatively easy opponent.

Compared to the other bosses that would appear later… he was the kind of boss even a regular lower-rank Hunter or a mercenary unfamiliar with proper mana use could handle.

However, in LAMPAS, Gale had lost to Molga—despite being quite strong.

There were several layered reasons for this…

In any case, Gale’s defeat had sent him on his journey to become a Hunter.

To rescue Jaigo, the man who had saved his life.

“Well… I guess that’s just how it was in the game.”

Isn’t that always the case in tutorials?

The protagonist is either a talented rookie or someone already near perfect who starts over with a change of heart.

The latter is usually given a major hardship to justify the reset.

“……”

Lose first, grow stronger, and defeat the enemy later.

A classic development, seen in many stories.

But—

“This world… doesn’t think that way.”

Elwin didn’t hate that kind of heroic development. But he much preferred the kind where a protagonist who had already grown powerful… crushed their enemies with overwhelming force.

He had decided to play the role of supporter, ally, to such a protagonist—for his own goals.

So while he was at it, he figured he might as well offer Gale a ride on a spectacular bus—or rather, an airship—to success.

“Consider it me repaying a debt, Gale. …Even if you’ll probably never know.”

Since he planned to rely on Gale in various ways moving forward, Elwin decided to offer his help first.

By preventing the most heartbreaking event for Gale in the original story from ever happening.

“Feels like it’s all wrapping up now… Gale, Jaigo. After all I did, winning shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Elwin had already offered substantial help.

He had prevented the catastrophe of both men being captured at once, and eliminated all the puppets Molga had sent to wipe the village from existence.

He had cut off the overwhelming puppet onslaught—Gale’s main reason for losing in the original.

“Molga probably has no clue. That all those painstakingly crafted puppets are now useless.”

Elwin chuckled.

He was curious to see Molga’s face when he realized he’d lost his biggest weapon.

But he wasn’t too regretful. Soon enough, he’d see an even better expression.

KWA-BOOOOM!

Just then, a thunderous explosion rang out from deep in the forest.

Something had burst and been destroyed… the sound of victory.

“It’s over.”

Elwin was sure Gale and Jaigo had won.

A faint smile crept onto his lips.

Now, the father wouldn’t be consumed by rage over his son’s death—only mournful sorrow would remain.

It was the ending Elwin had longed for.

“…Time for me to move.”

Elwin rose from the spot where he had been sitting.

To ensure a beautiful ending all the way through, he still had work to do.

Molga was a cunning man.

Even with a bounty on his head, he’d never once been caught in an investigation’s net—he was that sly.

Now driven into a corner by Gale and Jaigo, and having lost even his trump card…

“Predictable.”

Elwin smirked.

***

“Wh-Why… whyyyyyyyy?!”

Molga shouted as he ran, only to trip over a tree root and tumble to the ground.

“Ugh!”

He hadn’t been well-dressed to begin with, but now, covered in dirt, he looked like a complete beggar.

“Damn it. Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!”

He pounded the ground in a fit of rage, but all it stirred was a bit of dust.

He looked nothing like the man who had, moments ago, wielded his terrifying black mana with destructive force.

In his wretched state, Molga muttered in a daze.

“Why… why did this happen to me…”

Just minutes ago, he had been full of confidence.

After all, Jaigo was a lower-rank Hunter he had already defeated once before.

—“Heeheeheek! H-Hunters aren’t that special. Lower-ranks… they’re weak! Maybe next time I’ll use a Hunter as a material.”

Molga had no idea.

Jaigo had chosen to lose because he couldn’t bring himself to attack a puppet bearing his son’s face.

Nathan before him had also only lost his life because he’d sacrificed himself to protect others from Molga.

Drunk on two easy victories, Molga had let his guard down around something he’d always feared: a Hunter.

—“You bastard… the one who killed my son… this time, I’ll make you pay, Molga!”

With that weakness gone, Jaigo became a formidable opponent.

His greatsword shattered rocks like tofu, and his ironclad limbs launched relentless close-range attacks that brought cold sweat to Molga’s brow.

—“S-Stay away…! Don’t come any closer!!!”

Throughout the battle, Molga felt like prey being hunted by an experienced predator.

Panicked, he made a rookie mistake—he used up all his stored mana in a single spell!

It was a powerful wide-area magic attack that swept everything in black mana, but it left the caster completely drained afterward.

—“No…!”

Realizing his mistake the moment he cast the spell, Molga barely managed to escape.

But in doing so, he lost everything he had built.

His customized workshop, the rare materials he had painstakingly gathered…

Most of all, his precious creations!

“AAAAAARGH! My masterpieces! My once-in-a-generation works!”

Molga’s eyes welled with tears as he screamed in grief.

The man who had caused so many others to shed tears of blood now looked like the very picture of irony.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them. I’ll tear them apart alive!”

With bloodshot eyes, Molga muttered curses—not just at Jaigo.

He also cursed the intruder who had suddenly broken into his workshop, released his materials, and fled.

—What was his name again? That guy. That bastard… the enemy.

The man with ashen-gray hair who had thrown a knife at him without warning.

His dull eyes and lazy, vagabond-like demeanor had initially seemed unimpressive, but Molga hadn’t underestimated him.

After all, the man had found his workshop even though it was hidden by a barrier—clearly no ordinary person.

Molga had fought him with full power from the start.

And yet… he lost.

“I can’t accept this…! There’s no way my creations could lose!”

Slamming the ground in petty frustration, Molga suddenly made a strange hand gesture.

Thumbs touching, index fingers crossed like an ‘X’…

Strangely enough, doing that seemed to calm him.

“Whew… Th-This isn’t the time to be panicking. They’ll be chasing me soon—I need to hide in my emergency shelter.”

Crouching down, Molga dabbed a strange potion on his finger.

Then, as if practiced, he drew an oddly shaped magic circle.

“I—I am a pilgrim walking step by step toward the Great God! I—I only lost because my creations were still lacking!”

Desperately clinging to optimism, Molga’s hands moved quickly.

“My creations… y-yeah… I’ll just make them all again from scratch! Now that I’ve done it once, next time I’ll do even better! With a beginner’s heart! Heeheeheek!”

Finally completing the circle, he pulled something from inside his clothing and placed it at the center.

A necklace with a deep purple gem, shimmering like a mirage.

Molga never took it off, day or night.

“Heeheeheek! With this…! I—I won’t get caught! I can start over as many times as I want!”

It was a mobile artifact—the pinnacle of magical and arcane engineering—that allowed teleportation to pre-marked locations regardless of distance.

That was how Molga, wanted by numerous nations and federations, had always managed to slip away so mysteriously.

“Good thing I brought it with me… Thanks to this, I can keep on creating—keeeep on making art.”

Molga grinned as he caressed the gem.

Once, Molga had been a scholar at the Clocktower.

He had lived diligently, immersed in his research—until a certain incident pushed him into a mania for grotesque art.

He had betrayed the Clocktower and fled with a stolen artifact.

“Oooooh—! All of this is by the Great God’s guidance!”

Before stepping into the magic circle, Molga looked back the way he came.

“Wait for me, Hunter! And… you damn intruder! Next time, I’ll reach the ultimate level and rip you both to shreds!”

Molga screamed, filled with hatred and madness.

Just then—

“Who said you could?”

Someone ambushed Molga from behind.

A kick to his gut sent him flying from the magic circle.

“Gahk—!”

Crashing into a tree, Molga wheezed, but the attacker didn’t even glance at him—he simply picked up the artifact from the center of the circle.

“This eagle crest in the gear-shaped frame… no doubt about it. This belongs to Sirine.”

Holding it to the light, he nodded and tucked it into his coat.

“Sirine…? How do you know that name?! Are you… a pursuer sent by the Clocktower?!”

“Who knows? Maybe something like that. They did ask me to catch a sticky-fingered thief. But more importantly… Criminal, that’s quite a loose tongue you’ve got.”

It all happened in a flash.

Molga blinked once.

Slish─!

“…Huh?”

His arms and legs flew through the air.

Still unable to process the situation, Molga’s bloodshot eyes widened.

“AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

Pain crashed into him a moment later, and he screamed.

“My… my arms, my legs…!”

“You don’t touch other people’s things. Especially not to abuse them, kill others, drive nails into people’s hearts, and desecrate the dead. Criminal, you must be punished.”

The mysterious figure looked down on Molga and spoke coldly.

“Losing your limbs… that’s just a tiny part of the price you’ll pay. Think of it as… a preview. The cost of your crimes is far from small.”

A gentle smile. But eyes colder than ice.

An oppressive presence that made even looking at him frightening.

Molga felt completely overwhelmed for a moment.

“W-Who… who are you?! Who are you to do this to me?!”

He instinctively knew.

The one standing before him was no ordinary human.

“Me?”

The one who had ambushed Molga sneered.

As expected…

“What would you do with that information?”

It was Elwin.