Max was thrown backward by the impact, crashing against a wall. Blood filled his mouth as he slid to the ground.
The man approached, cracking his neck.
"Nothing personal, kid. Be thankful that I had not hit your chest or you would be a goner. Just doing my job."
Max spat blood to the man's direction.
"Fuck you and your job."
The Hunter shrugged.
"You asked for it."
He proceeded to deliver a savage kick to Max's midsection that sent him skidding across the ground.
CRACK!
More ribs cracked.
Something inside of him ruptured.
The pain was so intense that for a moment, all Max saw was white.
I'm going to die here. I'm actually going to die.
He couldn't move his left arm anymore. The poison was working fast. His right hand scrabbled uselessly at the ground, searching for anything he could use as a weapon.
His fingers closed around a small stone. Not much, but it was all he had.
As the man bent down to grab him, Max channeled his last wisp of mana.
"Harden," he whispered, the stone briefly glowing in his palm.
Has to be the eye. With my strength, only a vulnerable spot like that would work on a Tier 3.
With every ounce of strength remaining, he swung his arm up, driving the hardened stone directly toward the man's eye.
The man jerked back instinctively, but not quite fast enough.
The stone caught him at the corner of his eye socket, tearing a little bit of skin and causing him to stagger backward with a howl of pain.
But the howl carried more fury than pain. He was enraged that Max had landed a hit rather than actually being physically wounded.
Max dragged himself forward, crawling now, leaving a trail of blood on the stones.
Just a little further to the professors.
Just a little...
"Ugh!"
A boot pressed down on his back, pinning him to the ground.
"Interesting tactics."
The scarred woman crouched beside him, studying his face with nonchalant curiosity.
"Most weaklings like you would have surrendered after the first beating."
Max glared up at her, blood dripping from his split lip.
Maybe because of the excessive force and being truly triggered from her words, he managed to somehow muster up one more defiance.
He swung the hardened stone at her face.
He wanted her to give her the same medicine.
The woman she…
She didn't even bother to dodge.
The stone struck her cheek directly and shattered against her skin without leaving even a mark.
What the hell? Not even a scratch?
The woman smiled, revealing her teeth that resembled a canine.
Only those who reached Tier 4 Master Combatant level could develop skin density capable of withstanding enhanced weapons without active aura reinforcement.
But with Max's poor strength, even if she was a tier lower, it likely wouldn't have done anything.
Max's arm dropped uselessly to the ground.
The poison had reached his chest now, making each breath a struggle. His vision was tunneling, darkness creeping in from the edges.
The scarred woman stood, gesturing to her team.
"Bag him. We'll deliver him to the Administrator after the—"
She stopped abruptly, gaze sweeping across their surroundings.
They were near the edge of a small plaza, and while still relatively secluded, several groups of late-arriving attendees were visible in the distance. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation.
"Too many witnesses approaching. And a troublesome one…" she murmured.
One of her comrades had already prepared a roughspun sack, moving to cover Max's head.
"We can't risk questions about an unconscious, bloodied student. Not with those meddling church folks nearby."
She gazed down at the floor, her eyes on the blood tracks made.
Max couldn't turn his head to look, but he caught glimpses of white and gold vestments through his fading vision.
Silver-white hair…?!
A wild, desperate hope bloomed in his consciousness.
The scarred woman crouched again, scrutinizing Max's condition. His eyes had begun to close, the poison dragging him toward unconsciousness.
She nodded with satisfaction.
"He's nearly gone. Leave him. The paralytic will finish its work. We'll retrieve him once the area clears."
"But boss, he's barely—"
"Now. It is in our best interests that we do not have our employer dragged in a public scandal."
"Yes boss."
Max felt the pressure lift from his back.
Through the encroaching darkness of his vision, he saw the attackers melting away into the shadows, confident that their immobilized prey couldn't escape.
Th-They're... leaving me? Think I'm a goner?
With the attackers gone, Max summoned his final reserves of will.
He couldn't stand.
Barely speak a whisper.
Couldn't even crawl properly anymore.
But he could do one thing.
Max took a dip of the blood on his body onto his fingers.
Remember the novel. If it's her, her divine sensitivity...
He pressed his blood-stained hand against the white stone beside him, leaving a handprint that stood out starkly against the pale surface. Then he dragged his fingers across it to draw an image. It was the simplest symbol of the Mother Goddess: a cross with 3 straight lines above to signify holy light radiating from above.
If she really is a Saintess candidate... she'll sense the desperation in this...
His last gamble placed, Max collapsed completely, his body going limp as the poison continued its work.
His consciousness flickered like a candle in a wind.
Begging you Audrey. I'm probably going to die at this rate…
***
A group from the church walked along a path several yards from Max's position. They remained oblivious to his presence. Every person's attention was focused on reaching the ceremony on time.
"Absolutely not, Brother Aaron! I won't stand for it!"
An eye-catching beauty's voice carried across the small courtyard, her silver-white hair gleaming in the afternoon sun as she confronted a fellow priest. Her amber-gold eyes flashed with the righteous indignation that had already made her controversial throughout both the Church and a fair extent to the Academy.
Brother Aaron hands clasped before him in a gesture of beseeching calm.
"Lady Whitcross, the rite of Golden Observation has been practiced in exactly this manner for several centuries. It's not our place to—"
"To question? To improve? To recognize when tradition serves only itself rather than the people it's meant to guide? The Mother Goddess embraces all who seek her light, not just those who can stand for six hours without food or water!"
Brother Simon, a senior priest, stepped forward.
"The fasting and standing aspects of the ritual are meant to demonstrate devotion and discipline."
"And what does it demonstrate when an elderly grandmother collapses from hunger during the observation?"
Audrey Whitcross challenged.
"Or when a wounded veteran cannot participate because standing for six hours is physically impossible? Does their devotion count for nothing?"
"There are exceptions for—" Sister Meris began, only to be similarly cut off by Audrey's impassioned response.
"Exceptions that require humiliating public concessions! Why must we force people to announce their weaknesses before allowing them to worship? The Mother Goddess sees what is in our hearts, not how long our legs can support us!"
Brother Aaron sighed deeply.
"Lady Whitcross, this discussion would be better continued at the temple. We're due at the welcoming ceremony as representatives of the Church, and—"
Audrey suddenly stopped walking, her head turning sharply toward an alcove off their path.
"Lady Whitcross?" Brother Aaron questioned. "We're already late for the ceremony."
"Wait."
Her amber-gold eyes were scanning intently.
"Something's wrong. I sense... suffering."
The others looked confused, but Audrey was already moving, following some intuition invisible to the rest. She stepped off the main path, moving directly toward a shadowed area between two decorative columns. When she spotted a red handprint with a crudely drawn divine symbol, she froze for just an instant before being shocked at the next sight.
She saw a young man, broken and bloodied, barely clinging to consciousness.
His clothes were shredded and soaked with blood, his face barely recognizable beneath dirt and red. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, completely limp, while the other lay outstretched toward the symbol he'd somehow managed to create.
"Mother Goddess preserve us!" Audrey Whitcross gasped, rushing forward.
The others quickly followed, their expressions alternating from confusion to horror as they gathered around.
The young man's hazy blue eyes clung to Audrey's golden ones with immediate recognition
"…Please, Audrey," he rasped, blood bubbling from his lips with each word.
"They're trying to kill me."
The words consumed the last of his strength; his arm gave out, and he collapsed completely before them.
"How does he know your name?" Brother Simon frowned, but Audrey was already kneeling beside the injured man, her hands hovering over his most severe wounds.
"That hardly matters right now."
Audrey's fingers began to glow with soft white light.
"He's gravely injured."
The divine energy flowed from her palms into the young man's broken body. Brother Aaron knelt opposite her, adding his own healing magic to support her efforts. Sister Meris quickly produced clean bandages from her satchel, while Brother Simon prepared healing salves.
"Multiple broken ribs… Internal bleeding. His arm is no good either. And there's something else..."
Her brow furrowed.
"A toxin in his system. Something designed to paralyze."
Brother Simon leaned closer, examining the puncture wound on the young man's shoulder.
"From the discoloration, I'd say it's a blend usually used against animals or beasts. Not usually lethal, but certainly incapacitating. I have an antidote that should counter it."
After several minutes of concentrated healing, the young man's eyes fluttered open.