The Hunters Volume One: The Beginning

Episode Eight: Panic At The Party

   Michael's closed eyes narrowed as he felt the massive fireball raging in his direction. The attack was powerful in its own right and covered a large range, a good tactic to minimize the chances of an opponent dodging.
   But to someone like him, such attacks were less than useless.
   With a single pulse of his power, the fireball dissipated in an instant. On instinct, he leapt back just in time for a blade of wind to carve out a large groove where he had previously stood. The moment he landed, he ducked low to avoid the second blade of wind that threatened to decapitate him and swiveled his head to lock on the position of his opponent. Light footsteps tapped softly on the ground as his attacker circled round him to find a better angle of attack.
    He smirked slightly when the footsteps stopped as his opponent realized what he had been doing. But it was already too late. With a powerful leap, he jumped in their direction. Midair he adjusted his body slightly to dodge a vertical slash of flame that his opponent had thrown to distract him. The instant his feet touched the ground, he jumped off immediately to avoid the pillar of fire that sprouted up from the concealed magic circle trap beneath him. When he landed, he discovered that his opponent had not placed only one trap.
   For the next few seconds, Michael danced around the arena, dodging fire traps and random blades of wind coming from all directions. His opponent had gotten smarter and had begun muffling her steps with her Wind magic to prevent him from tracking her movement.

   Michael resisted the urge to palm his face in exasperation. Apparently his opponent had forgotten he was also a werewolf.
   One small sniff and Michael discovered where his attacker was instantly. However before he could make a move, he detected several fireballs heading towards him at high speeds. Twisting his foot a bit, he kicked back off the ground as the fireballs crashed down creating a huge fiery explosion. Just as he landed, a whip made of flames wrapped around his wrist tightly. The fire scorched his clothes but his skin was perfectly unharmed.
   The whip tugged his arm sharply and he smirked once more before yanking on it with far more force than the initial tug. The person at the other end of the whip was drawn sharply towards the Hunter who simply held out his arm to clothesline the individual into the ground.
   A pained huff escaped his opponent's lips before they quickly rolled out away from the stomp coming down on them. Just as they regained their footing, Michael pressed on his attack. A high kick was thrown which she dodged easily and predictably attempted to retaliate with a low kick to his exposed leg. With practiced ease, Michael leaned back into a single handed handstand, kicking his opponent in the head as he did so. Then he righted himself and leaned sideways to dodge an invisible burst of concentrated wind that ruffled his clothes.
   From there, the two of them moved into a fast paced exchange of attacks on the part of the attacker and defense on Michael's side. Several rotating rings of fire surrounded them which the attacker used to hedge in Michael. When two of the rings came in close proximity of the Hunter, his arms shot out to grab hold of the rings, the flames not harming him in the slightest.
   In a single fluid motion that stunned the attacker into stupor, he merged the flames and remodeled it into a flaming spear. He twirled it and aimed its point at his opponent, his closed eyes crinkling slightly as he let out the smallest of smiles. Then he disappeared and reappeared in front of the opponent, his spear aimed for her heart. Now forced on the defensive, the individual barely had any time to throw up a wall of fire in defense.
   To Michael's admittedly unexpected surprise, the wall was able to block his attack completely. Seeing this, the other individual decided to take it a step further. A blast of wind enlarged the fiery wall and it grew to ridiculous proportions before being manipulated to surround the individual who then released it in an omnidirectional attack that scorched the earth for nearly a kilometer outwards.
   By the end of it, the ground was charred and smoking, with more than a few parts still burning. The surrounding forest had been decimated to less than a shadow of its past self. The individual in the middle of all the carnage sighed tiredly when they found no sight of her troublesome opponent. From the exhausted expression on her face, it was obvious that the last attack had taken a toll on her mental state.
   
   A cold draft of wind passed by the individual and she stiffened, her blood chilling immediately as she felt a presence behind her. Heat singed the skin of her back through her clothes from the flaming spear poised to pierce through her heart. Michael stood behind her, his back to hers with one hand in his pocket and the other holding the shaft of the spear over his shoulder.
   A tense atmosphere weighed down on them for a few moments before she let out a small self derisive laugh.
   "I yield," Mia surrendered.
   Michael let the spear burn onto thin air as he turned to face her, his eyes open for the first time in the past hour. "Well done. You managed to push me farther than I expected. Be proud of yourself."
   The girl's mild sarcasm was visible even through her tiredness. "Proud? You gave me a massive visual handicap and you didn't even use your werewolf powers and I still couldn't do much damage."
   Michael eyed his surroundings dryly. "The forest would beg to differ with that statement."
   Mia had the decency to look a little abashed as she surveyed the extent of damage her final attack had done. "Oh sorry about that. I guess I got a little carried away."
   He waved her off nonchalantly. "It's alright. I'll fix it up later."