The core cracked, not physically, but spiritually. His will punched through, and the chaotic energy, having no other path, flooded into his soul. For a terrifying moment, he thought he had failed, that he had just broken his own mind. Then, the notifications came, not one, but two, flashing in rapid succession. [Unsanctioned skill forging has been forcefully completed.] [New Skill Acquired: [Mind’s Eye Lv. -1].] [An unexpected resonance has occurred between the Host’s core and the target’s primal life force.] [Bonus Skill Acquired: [Predator’s Instinct Lv. -1].] He blinked, and the world was different. He could see the faint, shimmering auras of the hunters, the dim glow of the rampaging lizards, and the bright, chaotic spark of Rebecca next to him. More than that, he could see lines—faint, pulsating red lines—crisscrossing their bodies, highlighting vulnerabilities. He saw Misha on the ridge, a bright red line tracing from her staff, a clear indicator of her next attack. ’I can see them. I can see everything.’ "He’s just kneeling there! Finish him, Misha!" Borris roared, clutching his bruised chest. "He’s mine!" Misha shouted, the energy gathering at the tip of her staff. Luthra didn’t give her the chance. He focused on the space directly behind her, invoked the newly integrated combat art, and pushed. From the hunters’ perspective, the man kneeling on the ground, bleeding from the face, simply ceased to exist. One moment he was there, the next, only a smudge of blood on the dirt remained. Misha felt a sudden, bone-deep chill, the kind of cold that came when something that should not be was standing right behind you. She started to turn, her spell fizzling on her staff, a scream catching in her throat. His arms remained broken, however the combat framework that had integrated into his soul operated beyond such physical limitations, and as he perceived the faint red line of vulnerability pulsing on the back of Misha’s neck through his Mind’s Eye, he threw a punch powered not by muscle but by precise kinetic energy manipulation. Misha saw the punch approaching in what felt like slow motion, her mind screaming while her body failed to react in time. Jako roared desperately, having witnessed Luthra vanish from the ground below and reappear on the ridge in a flicker that defied logic, and reacting on pure instinct, he launched himself from his position further down the ridge, threw his body forward in a blur of motion, lashed out with his booted foot in a powerful side-kick aimed at Luthra’s torso. The kick connected, sent Luthra flying through the air, tumbling like a ragdoll before he crashed onto the rocky ground twenty feet away. Misha stumbled backward, her heart pounding as she gasped with relief, while Jako landed gracefully beside her, his face focused. "I think so, you saved me." "Are we sure he is human?" Misha took a shaky step back, tried to regain her composure, then felt a faint yet undeniable tug at her ankle. When she looked down, the black chain was wrapped neatly around her leg with its other end stretching across the ground to their seemingly defeated target. Luthra coughed on the ground, a trickle of blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he slowly pushed himself up with his elbows, met their eyes, smirked. The punch had been a feint, the entire motion a misdirection, and while their eyes focused on the threat to Misha’s head, his real action had been a flick of the wrist that tossed the chain silently and secured his true objective before Jako’s foot had even made contact. "What?" Misha whispered, her voice choked. He yanked the chain, pulling Misha off balance and sending her stumbling forward across the rocky ground. Jako moved to intercept, drawing the two daggers from his belt as he closed the distance with a speed that marked him as a specialist in close-quarters combat. Instead of pulling Misha toward him, Luthra kicked the taut length of the chain near his foot, sending a violent, whip-like ripple down its length that struck Misha’s other leg and sent her sprawling to the ground in a heap. Borris, who had finally regained his footing, roared, "He’s just one man! Get him!" ’I can’t win a straight fight. Not . But I don’t need to.’ Ignoring Jako, Luthra reeled the chain in, scooped the dazed Misha up and lifted her off the ground as if he were preparing to slam her into the dirt. The move was a clear provocation, a challenge, and it worked perfectly. Borris and the now-recovered Goran both charged forward, their attention completely fixed on the apparent hostage situation and the perceived threat to their teammate. Jako paused his own assault, his daggers held ready, his mind trying to process the strange, illogical tactics of his opponent. ’What is he doing? Something feels off here.’ While all three hunters were focused on him, neither of them noticed Rebecca, who was now quietly untying the reins of the healthiest-looking lizard. "Drop her now, and we might let you live to see the inside of a Syndicate cell!" Borris shouted, his mace held high. Luthra did not drop her, instead, he swung Misha’s body in a wide, horizontal arc and simply threw her. The unexpected projectile sailed through the air. Borris and Goran were forced to scramble out of the way to avoid being hit by their own teammate, their charge completely broken. In that single, chaotic moment, Luthra pushed off the ground and invoked the skill. He vanished from his spot, leaving the two charging hunters to stare at empty space. He reappeared instantly on the back of the untethered D-Rank lizard, landing silently behind Rebecca, who was already gripping the beast’s reins with both hands. He grabbed the reins from her, kicking the lizard’s flank with his heel. The beast roared and bolted, charging away from the stunned hunters and toward the distant, dark line of the Closed Labyrinth. Borris stared in disbelief, his mind failing to comprehend the sequence of events. "He... he stole my lizard! After him!" Jako, however, was already moving, his hand plunging into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a small, black orb. "He’s not getting away." He hurled the orb not at the escaping lizard, but high into the air above it, and with a whispered command, the orb pulsed once with a dark light and then exploded, not in a blast of fire, but in a shower of thick, black, tar-like tendrils that rained down from the sky. The sticky tendrils latched onto the lizard’s legs, the cart, and even Luthra’s back, their unnatural weight immediately slowing the beast’s escape to a struggling crawl. Rebecca shrieked, "Eww! What is this sticky black stuff?! It’s all over me!" Luthra grunted as the lizard stumbled, its legs tangled in the magical tar, and looked back to see the four hunters closing in on them once more. ’Guess I have no choice.’