The flow of the river had been completely altered. Massive puddles and the splintered remains of trees were scattered everywhere. Grachan's repeated use of Tsunami: Tidal Wave had reshaped the terrain, while Targer'sDeath Roll had gouged out everything it touched. The torrential downpour had moved on, leaving only a light drizzle as the two combatants continued their stalemate.
"Gwahaha! You're not bad for a human, but you're nothing compared to the King of Gluttony!"
"Nonsense... the real fight starts now!"
Though both were still standing, the gap in their remaining strength was becoming obvious.
"Look at you! That famous wave of yours is barely a ripple now! I guess the rain really was the key to your ability, huh?!"
"Tch... you're sharper than you look."
Grachan's Hatsu, TUBE: Inamura, was a water-manipulation ability that could only be used during rainfall. Originally a fisherman, Grachan had developed the ability to continue his work even in the roughest seas. The heavier the rain and the stronger the storm, the more water he could control. While he was peerless as long as the skies stayed open, several factors had pushed him into a corner.
(He's a reptile, so he shouldn't be able to breathe underwater, but drowning a crocodile is easier said than done,) Grachan thought. (Plus, he realized I control the water and forced me away from the river. I should have waited for him in the ocean.)
The matchup was poor. As a crocodile-type ant, Targer was comfortable in aquatic combat and possessed a massive, durable body. Furthermore, since Inamura didn't create water but merely manipulated existing sources, being forced away from the river forced Grachan to waste massive amounts of aura. Finally, his conjured harpoon and surfboard were merely external terminals—temporary tools that lacked his core power.
(I saw the downpour and rushed in... I should have intercepted him with my ship, the Fortress Whaler,)Grachan lamented. His overconfidence—believing he could win against any Nen user on land as long as it rained—had led him to leave his fishing vessel, the very heart of his power.
"Gufufu... you aren't much in terms of volume, but strong ones always taste better. You should be honored to be eaten by me."
Targer, a pure Enhancer, had maintained his composure throughout the fight, but it hadn't been easy. He had used his Death Roll to minimize the impact area of the tidal waves while using centrifugal force to push through. Every time a harpoon was launched, he reinforced his crocodile hide to the limit to deflect it. Though others saw him as a simple-minded glutton, he was a true predator of the ambush variety—a tactical combatant.
As the fight dragged on, the worst-case scenario for Grachan was approaching.
(The rain is almost gone. My final trump card takes too long to prep... looks like this is the end. Sorry, Morel... I'm leaving my ship to you.)
As Targer closed the distance with heavy steps, Grachan resolved to go out fighting, kneading the last of his aura. Targer licked his lips, his teeth clicking in anticipation—so focused on his meal and the sound of the rain that he failed to notice something approaching at staggering speed.
"Hurry! Hurry! Is our little Grachan in a pinch?! Ghost Bicycle Attack!"
A bicycle—reinforced just enough to be brought into NGL and shrouded in aura—was launched at Targer like a missile.
"Gwah?! Ow! Who the hell is interfering with my dinner?!"
"You?!"
After leaping from the bicycle as it fired, a figure performed a graceful hero-landing in front of Grachan.
"Honestly, rushing ahead is a boy's privilege, but you have to pick your time and place! ☆"
One of the hunters who had been guarding the coastline had sprinted to provide backup. He had made it just in time.
"I'll be the one to wipe your slate clean, Grachan, so leave it to me!"
In the clearing rain of the battlefield, a fine Gori-nu arrived, dripping with water.
***
The clash between Hunter and Chimera Ant intensified. While the primary forces, Biscuit and Zazan, were still locked in a stalemate of glares, the surrounding Hunters and ants had already begun their battle.
"Kill them all! Slaughter anyone who stands in Lady Zazan's way!"
"Don't get isolated! Stay in pairs and cover each other!"
Though the ants had the numbers, the Hunter side had twice as many capable combatants. Pike, acting as Zazan's lieutenant, ordered the ants to fan out. Tsezguerra, entrusted with the overall command by Bisky, issued precise instructions to his team.
(Our job is to ensure no one interferes with Bisky,) Tsezguerra thought. (Ideally, we finish our half of the fight before she finishes hers.)
The Second Wave was desperately short on manpower, so most of this group—aside from Bisky and Tsezguerra—were less than elite. However, they were the ones Bisky had chosen, and Tsezguerra knew they had the necessary skills.
"Don't engage the power types head-on! Just hold the armored ones until we can outnumber them! The spider-type will definitely spit silk—watch his rear, and just to be safe, watch his mouth too!"
"H-how did you know I could spit silk from my mouth too?!" Pike blurted out.
"He's an idiot! Keep him talking and drain his info!"
Tsezguerra managed the entire battlefield while dealing with a particularly thorny ant. "C-Team, switch with us! Those spikes are likely projectiles—wear him down from a distance!"
By utilizing his most skilled teammates, Tsezguerra maintained control of the flow, ensuring his team stayed in the lead. Though the Hunters weren't unscathed, they hadn't lost a single man.
(If we can wear them down like this, it's a win. But it won't be that simple...)
Tsezguerra's intuition was correct. Just as the ants began to rack up injuries, Zazan's aura spiked. Laughing at the wary Bisky and her team, Zazan's scorpion tail lashed out—not at the Hunters, but at her own subordinates.
"Aesthetic Rebirth Injection: Queen Shot. You lot are pathetic. Evolve into something stronger and more beautiful for my sake."
Zazan's Hatsu, Queen Shot, allowed her to manipulate the aura of those she stung. For those without Nen, it forcibly awakened them and mutated their forms into grotesque monsters. While this left them with no room for further development, it had a much higher survival rate than a standard forced awakening. For those who already knew Nen, it triggered a physical evolution that enhanced their primary traits.
The cost was the destruction of the target's individual potential and a forced, absolute obedience to Zazan. In exchange, they gained a staggering power boost in seconds. The power-types grew even more muscular; the armored ones became smoother and harder; the thorny ones sprouted branches of razor-sharp needles.
"W-what is this?! He's spitting silk from his hands now, too!"
The Hunters broke into a cold sweat at the sight of the newly empowered monsters, yet they held their ground, kneading their aura.
"Hmph. They're well-trained soldiers, aren't they?" Zazan mused. "Maybe I'll use my Queen Shot on them if they survive."
"You're quite relaxed," Bisky said, her voice dropping an octave. "We've spent enough time staring. Let's get this started."
"Fine by me. Though I can't exactly tell a child to go home and wash their face."
The two had been gauging each other's flow and micro-movements. Both had concluded the other was dangerous. Now, to tip the scales for their respective subordinates, they finally moved.
Bisky returned to her original, massive, muscular form. Zazan injected herself with her own Queen Shot, bulking up into a towering warrior.
"I knew it," Zazan grinned. "You are strong."
"You're much more 'appealing' like this than as a brat," Bisky countered. "I'm going to make you my lunch."
On the balanced battlefield, two goddesses of war collided.
***
On the highest floor of the East Gorteau palace, the sounds of governance had faded. In the quiet space inhabited only by Meruem, Pouf, and the Gungi champion Komugi, a frustrated voice rang out.
"...It's no use. Mate."
"Your Excellency is amazing! You've only been playing for half a day and you're already at the national champion level!" Komugi chirped, gesturing wildly with excitement.
Meruem, however, frowned as he stared at the board. Unlike his previous games, he couldn't see a single path to victory.
"...Move 22. That fortress... did you place it there because you anticipated my goal?"
"No, no! Predicting that far ahead is impossible. My chosen strategy utilizes the fortress freely, so I just placed it in a position where it could do something, no matter what happened!"
Meruem had realized that a piece which hadn't moved for the entire game was suddenly in the perfect position to bind him at the final moment. He found himself mesmerized by the "respiration" of her play. Even Pouf, who only understood the basics of the rules, felt a sense of beauty in the sequence that could only be described as magic.
"Hmph. So you controlled the entire flow of the match to make that piece viable. You said you were a national champion, but the gap between us is vast."
Meruem felt a rare surge of self-deprecation. He couldn't begin his "Collection" because he couldn't break Komugi's defense. Pouf, feeling his King's pride was wounded, struggled to suppress his killing intent toward the girl. Komugi, unaware she was in mortal danger, answered brightly.
"Of course! I'm not just the national champion... I'm the World Champion! I can't lose to Your Excellency yet!"
She laughed, looking small and ragged as ever, yet she radiated a brilliance of confidence and resolve. Meruem, looking at her as a person for the first time, noticed something.
"...Have you always been this thin?"
His heightened senses told him she had lost physical mass since the start of the match. Pouf answered the King's unvoiced question.
"Lord Meruem, high-level masters of board games consume staggering amounts of energy in a single match. Since both of you possess extreme processing speeds, half a day of continuous play is likely physically wasting her away."
Because their matches were of a quality rarely seen even in the professional leagues, the strain was immense. Meruem's body could handle it, but Komugi's fragile human frame was failing before her mind did.
"...I see. We shall take a break, then."
"No, no! I can still go! Gungi only gets fun from here, Your Excellency!"
Komugi was desperate to keep the match going—perhaps because she was exhilarated by an opponent who could actually challenge her, or perhaps because she wanted to continue this "trance" with a genius who finally rivaled her own.
"Fool. What value is there in defeating an opponent whose performance has dropped? I have other business. Eat and recover your strength."
"Ugh... understood. I brought my own food, so don't worry. I'll go rest now."
As she was led away by a maid, she kept looking back at Meruem until she was out of sight. Once she was gone, Meruem's aura turned dark and predatory.
"I intended to wait until I finished the games, but I cannot wait any longer. Pouf, we begin the 'Collection' now."
"As you command. We are ready to begin immediately."
The logical, governing Meruem was gone. In his place was a seeker of absolute power, a King surrendering to his primal instincts. This was Meruem's other Hatsu—a shift in aura, voice, and presence so total he seemed like a different person.
Absolute Mastery: I Think, Therefore I Am King.
Mind, technique, and body—the sun had finished its calibration and was moving to attain its ultimate brilliance.
Meruem did not know. He did not know the sheer scale of the "anomaly" born with a 0% probability—the one who wasn't created to be strong, but was a sudden mutation. He did not know of the realm that can only be reached by someone who has purified themselves into a single, focused point—a realm his broad perfection could never touch.
"I-it is a fine day... to have the h-honor of an audience with... the Supreme Leader..."
A small, blind, dirty girl with abnormal power.
"My name is Komugi. I'm a good-for-nothing, but I'll do my best."
For the first time in his life, Meruem was about to learn of an opponent he could not defeat, no matter how hard he tried.
***
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