The Hunter's Odyssey-Chapter 71: At What Cost?

The roar of the Troll King faded into the rain.

For a heartbeat, the battlefield held its breath. Steam curled upward from the corpse of the fallen giant as its enormous body slumped deeper into the shattered entrance of Paragon Mall. Broken marble shifted beneath its weight while rainwater washed thick black blood down the cratered steps and into the ruined street. The enormous carcass looked almost peaceful now, an impossible contrast to the chaos it had unleashed moments earlier.

Then the silence was shattered.

Cheers erupted.

It began with a single Bastion hunter, a young man with a fresh scar slashed across his left eye. He threw his head back and shouted into the rain, the sound bursting from his chest like something that had been trapped there for hours. It was a raw cry of survival, the kind that came only after someone realized they were still alive.

Another voice joined him.

Then another.

Within seconds, the entire street exploded into celebration. Hunters from Bastion and Bloodclaw alike began shouting, laughing, and pounding their weapons against shields or pavement. The sound rolled through Orchard Road like a wave breaking across the ruins of the city. The tension that had locked every muscle in their bodies finally snapped. They were alive. Somehow, impossibly, they had survived.

Lynis laughed louder than anyone.

He places Zaila on the hood of a car and begins jumping around as he grabs the young Bloodclaw he had rescued earlier and lifts him clean off the ground as if the kid weighed nothing. The boy yelped in surprise as Lynis spun him around once before dropping him back onto his feet.

"SEE?" Lynis roared, his booming voice cutting through the celebration. "I told you we weren’t dying today!"

Porpo stumbled into Jane and pulled her into a tight embrace before Jane could protest.

"We did it!" Porpo laughed breathlessly, her voice cracking with exhaustion and disbelief. "Holy shit, we actually did it!"

Jane did not resist. Her arms wrapped around Porpo for a moment, exhaustion finally loosening the iron control she had maintained throughout the battle. Rain slid down both their faces, cutting streaks through grime, ash, and dried blood.

Nearby, Deck leaned against a collapsed pillar, the rain dripping steadily from his hair and armor. He said nothing, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. It was the closest thing to a smile he had given all night.

Across the battlefield, Bloodclaws clapped Bastion hunters on the shoulders. Weapons dropped to the ground. Someone shouted for drinks as if the apocalypse itself had just taken a break. For a brief moment, enemies became survivors.

But Jagger did not cheer.

He stood in the shadow of the burned-out van, rain dripping from his hair and chin as he watched the celebration unfold. The cheers washed over him, but he felt none of it. The joy, the relief, the laughter. It all seemed distant, like something happening behind thick glass. The hollow space in his chest only grew colder as he watched them.

They believed the nightmare was over.

For them, maybe it was.

For him, it had only just begun.

A translucent panel flickered into existence in front of his eyes.

-

[Objective: Eliminate all hostile creatures designated as ’Heralds of Collapse’.]

[Targets Remaining: 45/50]

-

Jagger barely registered it. His mind was already spiraling.

He scanned the battlefield again, faster now. Panic clawed its way up his spine. He had to finish it. He had to kill someone.

His eyes darted across the scattered hunters. Groups of Bloodclaws stood laughing beside Bastion fighters. They clapped each other on the back, recounting the moments where they had almost died. Weapons lay abandoned in puddles of rainwater. No one was watching their backs. No one expected betrayal.

Jagger’s hand tightened around the dagger.

He imagined it. Walking up behind them. Driving the blade into someone’s throat.

The thought made his stomach twist violently.

He couldn’t do it. Not like that. Not after this fight. Not after watching them stand together. Not after seeing that, maybe this broken world still had a chance to become something better.

But the quest did not care about any of that.

And neither did Ophilia.

Then he heard it.

"Hel...p..."

The word was barely a whisper, so faint it might have been mistaken for the wind. But it cut through the noise of celebration like a knife.

Jagger turned.

His eyes searched the rubble near the collapsed mall entrance. Then he saw him.

A Bloodclaw hunter lay half-buried beneath a slab of broken concrete. Blood pooled beneath his body, dark against the rain-slick pavement. One arm was pinned under the rubble while the other clawed weakly at the ground. He tried to move and failed. His fingers scraped helplessly against the asphalt.

"Help..." the hunter whispered again.

Jagger walked toward him.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

The Bloodclaw saw him approach, and relief flooded his face.

"Please..." he rasped. "Help me..."

Jagger knelt beside him as rain dripped from the edge of his hair onto the man’s face.

"I’m sorry," Jagger said quietly.

The Bloodclaw blinked in confusion.

"Plea... please... get me out..."

Jagger grabbed the back of the man’s head and pulled it upward, exposing his throat. The dagger moved in one clean motion.

Steel sliced across flesh.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the gurgling started.

Blood spilled across the rain-soaked ground as the man’s body convulsed weakly beneath the rubble. His hands twitched once, then twice, before going still.

Jagger sat back slowly.

His eyes drifted to something sticking out of the Bloodclaw’s jacket pocket. A photograph.

The edges were worn and stained with blood.

He pulled it free.

It showed a young woman smiling brightly at the camera. Her hair blew across her face as if caught in a breeze. Her eyes shone with the kind of warmth that only belonged to someone who believed the world still made sense.

Jagger stared at it.

He did not know her. He did not know the man whose life he had just ended.

But he understood something with terrible clarity.

That photograph had been someone’s entire world.

And he had just erased it.

A notification appeared.

-

[Quest complete: Kill five Bloodclaw Hunters.]

[You have leveled up to Level 8 ↑]

-

Jagger never saw it.

He was too busy staring at the body.

He had done it.

Five.

No.

Six.

Six human beings.

The quest was complete.

But it felt meaningless, with all their blood in his hands.

The cheers continued behind him as hunters celebrated the victory. But Jagger felt the distance between himself and them stretch into something impossible to cross.

’What you did was what you had to do.’

"Yeah, if you were to take over my body. I could have been worse. I had to do it... yeah, I had to."

The celebration slowly quieted as reality returned. Hunters began tending to the wounded while others gathered the bodies of the dead. Others cried for the dead, the victory had come at a brutal cost.

Jagger’s stomach twisted.

He had to leave.

If anyone found the bodies... If anyone realized what he had done... He pushed himself to his feet. Every muscle screamed in protest. His arm throbbed. His ribs burned. But he forced himself to move.

He scanned the ruined street.

There.

A narrow alley hidden behind a collapsed wall.

Dark. Quiet. Perfect.

He slipped into the shadows, moving step by step away from the battlefield.

Almost there. Almost free.

"Hey."

Jagger froze, his heart slamming against his ribs.

Slowly, he turned.

Jane stood several meters away. Rain plastered strands of black hair against her face. Dirt and blood streaked her clothes, but her eyes were sharp.

Watching him.

"Running away without saying goodbye?" she asked calmly. "I thought we were getting close... as a team."

Jagger forced his expression to remain neutral.

"I’m not running," he said. "I’m just looking for somewhere quiet."

Jane glanced toward the alley behind him. "In a dark alley?" One eyebrow lifted. "That’s a bit cliché."

"I’m not looking for trouble."

Jane let out a tired, bitter laugh. "Peace and quiet?" She shook her head slowly. "That doesn’t exist anymore. Not for people like us."

She stepped closer, rain falling harder between them.

"I saw what you did earlier," she said quietly. "With the spearman. You killed him without hesitation." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Sometimes you move like someone who has done this before." Her voice lowered. "But other times you look like you’re going to shit yourself."

She tilted her head slightly.

"So, which is it?"

Her gaze hardened.

"Are you a killer, Jagger? Or just a scared kid pretending to be a hero?"

Jagger slowly turned to face her completely. Rain washed the blood across his shirt.

He raised the dagger and placed the tip against his temple.

Jane didn’t move or flinch. She simply watched him.

"She forced me," Jagger whispered.

Jane’s posture shifted slightly.

Not fear but some sort of recognition.

"I don’t have full control," he continued quietly. "Until I do, I’m dangerous." His hand trembled slightly before removing the blade from his head. "To them... To everyone. To... you."

He gestured weakly toward the battlefield behind them.

"I have to leave, before I’m forced to do something I’ll regret for the rest of my very short life." The rain filled the silence between them.

Jane said nothing, she simply watched him.

For a long moment.

"Thank you for everything."

Then Jagger turned.

He walked into the darkness of the alley and never looked back.

Jane remained where she stood as rain soaked through her clothes. Her expression was unreadable while she watched the alley long after he disappeared.

"JANE!"

Porpo’s voice cut through the rain as she jogged toward her, her face glowing with excitement.

"Where is Jagger?!" She grinned widely. "He’s going to miss the party!" Porpo laughed. "Did you see that Meteor Stab? Shin Lu is insane!" She looked around. "Where is the liability?"

Jane turned slowly, her voice was calm. "He left."

Porpo blinked. "Left?" Her grin vanished. "Where did he go? Why didn’t you stop him?"

Jane shrugged slightly, a small gesture that meant very little.

"People come and go. He’s not a kid anyway. He can make his own decisions."

Porpo frowned. "That’s not like you. You’re always the one preaching teamwork."

Jane did not respond, she simply began walking back toward the others.

Porpo hurried after her.

"What’s going on? You’re hiding something."

Jane stopped and looked back. For a moment, something dark flickered in her eyes. Then it vanished.

"Let it go, Porpo. He’s gone."

Porpo stared at her for several seconds before sighing. "Fine." But she pointed back to where they came from. "If we ever see him again..." Her grin slowly returned, and she nudged Jane on her arm. "I get first dibs on punching the fuck out of him."

Jane’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile.

"Deal."