The Mercenary Who Hunts Titans
1017 Words
The Arena had not calmed down since Harold’s victory.
It had grown louder.
Word spread fast across the capital.
A student with an SSS-tier Titan defeating a veteran professional without transforming fully?
That was not talent.
That was threat.
And threats attracted predators.
⸻
The Challenge
Harold was halfway down the exit corridor when the announcer’s voice boomed again.
“WAIT.”
The crowd quieted.
A tall figure stepped into the arena ring without registration ceremony.
Black combat coat.
Crimson-lined armor.
Scar cutting across his left eye.
The air around him felt wrong.
Dense.
Sharp.
Predatory.
The Arena officials hesitated.
But the noble box above did not object.
Which meant…
This was allowed.
“Name,” the announcer demanded.
The man’s voice was calm.
“Kairos Venn.”
A murmur exploded across the stands.
“Kairos?!”
“The Titan Hunter?”
“He hunts rogue SSS hosts—”
Luke’s tone shifted.
“Danger.”
Harold stopped walking.
Turned.
Walked back into the Arena.
⸻
Titan: Abyssal Reaver (SSS-Tier)
Kairos didn’t partially manifest.
He didn’t posture.
He simply drew a black, jagged spear from thin air.
The ground beneath him darkened like ink spreading through water.
Abyssal energy.
Not elemental.
Not beast.
Void-based.
The Arena barrier intensified automatically.
The announcer swallowed.
“Special match approved. SSS-tier versus SSS-tier.”
Lysandra stood frozen.
Her butler whispered, “This man kills.”
Harold stepped into the center again.
He exhaled slowly.
Monkey King aura flared gold.
⸻
The Difference
The match began.
Kairos moved first.
He vanished.
Not speed.
Disappearance.
Harold’s instincts screamed.
He spun—
Too late.
The spear sliced across his ribs.
Blood sprayed across the Arena floor.
The crowd gasped.
Harold slid back, staff braced.
Kairos reappeared casually several meters away.
“No arrogance,” Kairos said.
“Good.”
Then he vanished again.
Second strike.
Harold blocked.
But the impact sent him skidding across stone.
The difference was immediate.
Garrick had been powerful.
Kairos was lethal.
Every movement precise.
No wasted motion.
No telegraphed attacks.
He wasn’t fighting for points.
He was testing how to kill.
⸻
Monkey King Pressure
Harold’s golden aura intensified.
Afterimages filled the field.
Staff strikes exploded outward in dozens of directions.
Kairos parried three.
Dodged seven.
Absorbed two.
One strike clipped his shoulder.
He smiled.
“Better.”
Then the Arena darkened.
The Abyssal Reaver fully manifested behind him—
A towering phantom entity wielding twin void blades.
The temperature dropped.
Sound distorted.
Even the crowd fell silent.
Harold felt it.
Pressure.
Real pressure.
For the first time since awakening—
The Monkey King felt strained.
Luke spoke sharply.
“Do not escalate yet.”
Harold gritted his teeth.
He hadn’t intended to transform fully in public.
But—
Kairos vanished again.
This time—
He appeared directly in front of Harold.
The spear drove forward.
Harold blocked—
The staff cracked.
The golden construct flickered.
Impact sent Harold crashing into the arena wall.
Stone shattered.
Blood trailed from his mouth.
The crowd was stunned.
Lysandra’s fingers dug into the railing.
“Harold…”
Kairos approached slowly.
“Your aura is powerful,” he said evenly.
“But you fight like someone who hasn’t lost yet.”
He raised his spear.
“Lose.”
He lunged.
⸻
Transformation
Time slowed.
Luke’s voice cut through everything.
“Now.”
The golden door inside Harold’s mind slammed open.
The colossal stone chamber trembled.
The Monkey King statue roared.
Harold’s eyes ignited.
Golden fur erupted along his arms.
Armor formed across his torso.
His presence expanded violently.
The Arena barrier flared under strain.
Kairos’ spear met—
The fully manifested Monkey King staff.
Shockwave.
The entire coliseum shook.
Kairos was pushed back for the first time.
He smiled wider.
“There it is.”
⸻
Clash of SSS Titans
Monkey King leapt.
Staff extended mid-air, stretching dozens of meters.
Kairos’ Abyssal Reaver countered with twin void blades.
Golden energy collided with abyssal darkness.
Explosions shattered the arena floor.
Harold’s movements were no longer restrained.
Each strike carried mountain-crushing force.
Kairos adapted instantly.
He didn’t overpower.
He redirected.
Void energy absorbed part of the golden impact.
Harold landed a direct blow—
Kairos’ shoulder armor shattered.
But Kairos’ counterstrike pierced Harold’s side.
Blood spilled again.
Even transformed—
Kairos was matching him.
Not stronger.
Not weaker.
Equal.
The Arena was no longer intact.
Barrier cracks spiderwebbed across its surface.
Officials panicked.
“If this continues—”
In the noble box—
The Dragon Warlord leaned forward.
Interest sharpened.
⸻
The Edge
Harold spun the staff.
Clones manifested—
Not illusions.
Solid golden projections.
Kairos’ eyes narrowed slightly.
“Advanced technique.”
They attacked simultaneously.
Kairos responded with abyssal waves that devoured two projections instantly.
But one connected.
Direct hit.
Kairos staggered.
Harold pressed forward—
But something felt wrong.
The void energy around Kairos thickened.
Not defensive.
Hungry.
Luke’s tone turned cold.
“He’s absorbing impact through the Abyss.”
Kairos lunged one final time.
The spear aimed directly for Harold’s heart.
Harold twisted—
The spear pierced through his shoulder instead.
Monkey King roared.
Harold slammed the staff into Kairos’ chest.
Both were blasted apart.
Smoke filled the Arena.
Silence.
When it cleared—
Both stood.
Bleeding.
Breathing heavily.
The barrier was seconds from collapsing.
The Arena officials intervened.
“Match suspended! Structural collapse imminent!”
The fight was forcibly halted.
⸻
Aftermath
No winner declared.
No loser declared.
Kairos wiped blood from his chin.
“You’re not ready,” he said calmly.
“But you will be.”
He turned and walked away without waiting for applause.
The crowd was shaken.
This wasn’t spectacle.
This was war-level combat.
Harold stood still.
Pain pulsed through his body.
But deeper inside—
The second gigantic door trembled violently.
Not from instability.
From excitement.
The Whale Falcon had tasted abyssal energy.
And it wanted more.
Luke spoke quietly.
“You will need the Devourer sooner than planned.”
Harold looked toward the arena exit.
Two million blood stones suddenly felt insufficient.
Because now—
He wasn’t just earning money.
He had been marked.
- Writer
