'I Reincarnated But Have No System? You Must Be Kidding Me!'-Chapter 45: The Hunter and the Hunted

Moments before Dakulo died...

Kael’thus gripped his icy blue blade with trembling hands.

Every breath felt like knives in his chest. Blood trickled from gashes across his arms, legs, and ribs—still fresh, still warm. His once-pristine robes were tattered and stained, fluttering like torn flags as he knelt inside the stone dome.

He stared at the figure before him.

Rhiki.

The mad hunter of the Velka Dar. The Dark Elf who once stood beside him in noble silence, the man he once called comrade. And now, his executioner.

Kael’thus’s heart pounded—not with fear, but with disbelief.

’He’s hunting me.’ His eyes shook with fear at the realization.’My own kin... is hunting me.’

Three centuries ago, they had fought side by side beneath the twin moons of Kalibu, blades flashing against the Vuls. Rhiki wasn’t a Goldhair, but that had never mattered to a seasoned warrior like him.

His instincts were flawless. His strikes—beautiful. His name carried the weight of a legend even among elves.

Kael’thus had admired him, once.

Respected him as a rival, maybe even a brother.

But that man was long gone.

Now, Rhiki was something else—something far worse. A blur of blades and laughter. A nightmare in motion. Kael’thus had barely survived the encounter just minutes earlier, his body scarred not only by wounds but by the cruel reality: he couldn’t even follow Rhiki’s movements anymore.

’How... how did this happen?’’Where did I go wrong?’’When did the gap between us become this wide?’

Questions after questions, it slowly made him regret he ever left Runewood. His grip on the sword tightened until his knuckles turned white.

’How could we lose despite years of preparation?’

And then—he remembered.

About an hour earlier...

The battlefield was silent.

Broken stones, shattered trees, and cratered earth painted the terrain with signs of the Queen’s fall. Magic residue still danced in the air like dying fireflies.

Kael’thus stood before his squad, his pale golden cape billowing gently in the evening wind. Around him were five of the finest among the Dark Fate—each bearing wounds from the last battle with the queen, each running low on mana and health.

They stood in a crescent. Slarveon rested her bow against one scaled shoulder, eyes narrow and cautious. Lannic hovered above a disk of conjured water. Dakulo muttered under his breath, already preparing his spells. And Raijen—lightning incarnate—silently tightened his gauntlets.

Below them, Kardel, Rhiki, and Auren had just emerged—spitted out of a strange wormhole that pulsed and shimmered with unstable energy. Its edges sparked with residual mana before collapsing in on itself like a closing eye.

Kael’thus didn’t know how it happened—only that their battle was far from over. His instincts screamed it.

He took a steadying breath and then called out, his voice rippling through the tense forest.

"Listen up, everyone!"

The breeze died instantly, and even the ancient oaks leaning over the clearing seemed to hold their breath.

He motioned toward the newcomer trio. "Ignore the human—he looks harmless enough. Our focus must be on the two elves." His eyes burned with urgency.

"Don’t be deceived by their count; those two are no ordinary warriors. They’re tribal lords—born with twice the mana of any human and trained from birth to bend both body and magic to their will. We’re exhausted. They’re just getting started."

Kael’thus turned sharply to Slarveon and Lannic, whose eyes met his with fierce determination. "You two," he said,

"take down the one on the magical deer—Kardel. His mount, Usan, is less a beast and more a living fortress: defensive wards, illusion cloaks, even living roots that can entangle an attacker. Until you break that bond, you’ll never land a clean strike on the rider."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before adding in a low, iron tone, "Your mission: drain the deer’s magic reserves. Nothing else matters until it falters. Once you take out the Usan, Kardel is basically a sitting duck."

Turning back to the center of the clearing, his voice dropped to a growl. "And the other one... is Rhiki."

A silence so thick it felt physical fell over the group.

Kael’thus drew a slow, controlled breath and raised his sword high. "I haven’t faced him in three centuries," he admitted quietly. "I don’t know precisely how much he’s grown—but I swear this: Elarya remains the fiercest of the elves. Mathes, her right hand should follows next. And Rhiki... Rhiki’s power should be somewhere around third or fourth after me."

He let the declaration ring out like a war trumpet, then pointed with steel resolve. "Dakulo. Raijen. You two—stay with me. We’ll fell Rhiki first, then turn on Kardel."

In an instant, the clearing divided into two battlefronts.

To the left, Slarveon drew back a glowing arrow, its tip humming with arcane energy, while Lannic conjured a swirling orb of water underfoot, the droplets reflecting moonlight like liquid silver. Both focused intently on Kardel, who stood poised atop his deer—its antlers crackling with protective wards—ready to defend its rider at a moment’s notice. Without a second thought, they advanced.

To the right, Kael’thus, Dakulo, and Raijen darted southward, weaving through broken stumps and beneath hanging vines toward the floating isles that drifted just above the treetops. Rhiki caught sight of their retreat and curled his lips into a mocking grin before sprinting after them.

In that instant, the two elven lords fell neatly into their trap. The Dark Fate had employed a classic divide-and-conquer tactic, splitting their foes and isolating each target for a swift, coordinated strike.

They pursued through twisting undergrowth, branches snapping like brittle bones. Then, as the moonlight fractured through drifting mist, the trio melted into shadow. Each footstep became whispered silence, each breath a careful lull in the hunt.

Seconds later, Rhiki skidded to a stop—unaware he’d trodden directly into their trap.

"Now!" Kael’thus roared.

[ROCK VAULT]

Dakulo slammed his staff into the earth.

With a thunderous crack, jagged slabs of stone erupted in a ring around Rhiki and the trio, sealing them inside a sudden prison of living rock. Dust billowed upward, and the world outside vanished.

Dakulo’s staff thundered into the earth. The ground buckled, splintering into jagged slabs that rose and slammed together overhead, sealing Rhiki in a stony prison with them. Instantly, the dome closed, slicing off all escape routes. Dust swirled; a heavy hush fell. And the only source of light are the glowing, magma-like tones below.

Rhiki stood in the center, completely unfazed, brushing dust off his coat like this was a rehearsal.

Then came Rhiki’s voice—light, mocking, utterly calm:

"So, what’s with this cheap stone trick?"

Kael’thus emerged from the haze, his blue ice sword humming with mana.

Raijen crackled with energy at his side.

Dakulo held his glowing hammer staff and is solely responsible for maintaining the stone prison.

"You’re not getting out of here, Rhiki," Kael’thus said, voice cold and confident."You are trapped in here with us! And this stone trick? It will be your grave."

Rhiki looked between the three of them, lips curling into a slow, dangerous grin.

"Oh? That so?"

He tilted his head, raven-black hair falling over one eye.

"You all still don’t get it, huh?"

His voice dropped.

"I’m not trapped in here with you—"

The trio did not let him finish his words as a crackling boom echoed from behind Kael’thus.

Raijen had just vanished.

A bolt of blue light zipped along the dome, bouncing between stone slabs like lightning off a storm shield. Sparks exploded with each contact point.

In a blink, Raijen reappeared behind Rhiki, its gauntlet covered fist already drawn back for a devastating blow.

But Rhiki didn’t even flinch.

He face turned. Facing the speed demon with an even more sinister smile. His eyes gleamed with wild joy.

"You’re trapped in here with me!"

WHAM!

BOOM!

With unnatural grace, Rhiki spun, his heel arcing upward in a perfect backflip kick. It connected with Raijen’s ribs with explosive force that echoed across the stone prison.

That sudden backflip sent Raijen flying towards the stone prison’s wall - creating his second body wall art in the same day.

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