u/Stock-Bunch671

The Black Castle, Trier

The cool wind of Trier blew past the high balcony of the palace. The Empress stood at the edge, looking down at the modern city below. Steam pipes, glowing streetlamps, metros and massive skyscrapers stretched as far as the eye could see.

She stepped forward into empty air. In a fraction of a second, she landed on a peak in the Dragon Highlands, right near the spot where the Visionary had once descended.

Naturally occurring mythical creatures were almost extinct now, but the rumors were true: a Sequence 2 born mythical creature of the Spectator pathway was here.

The giant beast turned, its ancient eyes fixing on her. It grasped the threat immediately, yet it didn't take flight—instead, it lunged straight toward the Empress to attack.

Bribe: Arrogance

The God of the Lawyer pathway had already used Bribe on it.

As the dragon charged, the Empress didn't draw a weapon. She just stood there.

Suddenly, a heavy, suffocating pressure slammed down onto the mountain peak. The dragon’s roar caught in its throat. Its spirit body trembled under the sheer weight of her presence.

Superior: Commanding Presence

Unable to resist her authority, the beast lowered its massive head to the ground, completely submitted.

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The Astral World, Divine Kingdom of the Visionary.

Space distorted as the Empress arrived in the divine realm, riding atop the tamed dragon.

The Visionary stood in his divine kingdom, watching her closely, reading the hidden intentions behind her actions.

"It is a rare occurrence for you to visit the Astral World," the Visionary said, his voice echoing smoothly. "What brings you here?"

The Empress stepped lightly off the dragon's back onto the luminous ground.

"Brought a little present for you," she said softly.

The Visionary kept his gaze on her. "Are you planning something?"

"If I was planning something, you'd know," she replied with a faint smile.

She turned her eyes toward the silent dragon behind her.

"The beast is yours. Do what you want to do with it."

She paused, her smile widening just a bit as she humorously asked, "Also... were you standing there the whole time?"

Before the words had even fully left her lips, she vanished.

We aren't inventing new authorities, abilities or symbolisms.

We are discussing how seq 0 Black Emperor can experiment in different ways with their already existing abilities. What feats can they achieve?

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My Thoughts:- Earl of the fallen can keep their sanity while turning into their mythical creature form. They can distort the mental effect caused by turning into a mythical creature reducing the willpower needed. They are said to be able to distort a mental disease(this means they're able to distort their mental state). Also they have veryyy strong mental resistance due to Barbarian sequence.

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III

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At home

The damp, heavy cloth bag sat on my wooden table, still reeking of formalin. I set the framed photo next to it under the warm, flickering glow of my lamp and stared at the face inside. Cold. Arrogant. Dressed in the crisp, high-collared coat of a high-society gentleman.

My mind spun backward. I knew him, but from where?

Then it clicked.

Three years ago. My father had dragged me to the public inauguration of a new water pump in the upper district. Standing on a raised wooden stage had been a tall man with sharp, aristocratic features, cold eyes, and a silver-tipped cane—a man the crowd whispered about with quiet dread: Viscount Alistair.

And the man in this photo had been standing right behind him.

All the pieces fell into place. The scum I’d killed was just a low-level lackey at the very end of a long, bloody leash. The man standing beside the lackey in the picture was the Viscount’s right hand, and Alistair himself was the real source supplying the Beyonder characteristics and formulas.

I turned my attention to the three artifacts I'd pulled from the hidden safe, laying them out on the worn wood.

I picked up the heavy steel trench knife and the brass knuckles first. The moment my fingers wrapped around their grips, a faint, familiar urge to tear something apart washed over me. It was weak, shallow, and easy enough to push down. My instincts recognized it right away: Sequence 9 'Hunter' characteristics, roughly fused into steel and brass.

Then I reached for the third object—a small, ornate silver pocket watch with a cracked glass face.

The instant skin touched metal, my heart hammered against my ribs. A suffocating pressure slammed into my temples, filling my head with a chaotic, mocking whisper that threatened to derail my focus and spark a sudden, blinding rage.

I slammed the watch shut and set it down, breathing slowly until the static in my head cleared. "This one is different. Dangerous." I stashed all three away—I wasn't touching them again until I knew exactly what I was dealing with.

Over the next few months, I lived two lives.

By day, I was just a quiet nineteen-year-old girl from the lower district keeping her head down—running errands, hunting for odd jobs, and picking through crowded local markets.

By night, I stalked the street predators, petty thugs, and rogue gang members who could disappear without the authorities noticing. Every time I tracked a target, mapped out an alley, and delivered a cold, silent strike, I felt a strange shift inside me.

"The potion," I realized one night, sitting in the dark as moonlight pooled across the floorboards. "It isn't just sitting in my body anymore. It's breaking down... like food. It's digesting."

Between hunts, I spent days watching a rumored underground Beyonder gathering operating out of an abandoned brewery by the docks. I mapped the exits, shadowed the people going in and out, and made sure it wasn't a trap before finally stepping inside, hidden beneath a heavy leather mask and dark cloak.

I managed to sell the two Sequence 9 Hunter weapons to a reckless mercenary for a neat pile of gold. While closing the trade, I overheard that a Seer pathway beyonder was offering identification services at a back table.

I walked over, set the silver pocket watch on the stained wood, and dropped a small pouch of coins beside it.

The hooded Seer kept his hands off the watch, swinging a small pendulum above the cracked glass while muttering under his breath. After a long moment, he opened his eyes and slid the watch back toward me.

"Sequence 8... Provoker," he whispered, his voice dry as dead leaves. "It lets you read human emotions, pick out insecurities, and slice through someone's mental armor with words that spark instant rage, fear, or paranoia. But the price is steep."

He tapped a thin finger against the cracked face. "Keep it on you too long, and it'll eat away at your own mind. You'll be consumed by irrational anger, picking fights just to feel the rush."

I picked up the watch, paid him without a word, and slipped back out into the cool night air.

A month later

I was tracking a corrupt merchant who’d been stealing from a local orphanage. The hit was a contract from someone at the gathering, paid in advance with a single piece of information: the name for the Sequence 7 of the Hunter pathway. I had no way to verify if he was telling the truth, but I took the job anyway—the hunt was a simple excuse to keep pushing the digestion process.

I slipped through the second-story window of the target's manor, moving across the thick carpets without making a sound. But as I reached the door to his private study, my danger intuition flared like a hot iron against my spine: Stop. Step forward, and you die. I felt an intense feeling of kneeling over.

I froze, pressing my back into the damp brick wall and peering through the crack of the unlatched door.

Two men stood inside over a bloodied body collapsed on the rug.

One was the man from the photograph—the Viscount's right hand. With a lazy flick of his wrist, a blinding, deep-red stream of fire erupted from his palm, instantly engulfing the kneeling merchant. The heat was so intense the man couldn't even scream before his throat was scorched shut, turning him into a thrashing column of flame.

The informant's words from the gathering echoed in my mind: "Sequence 7... Pyromaniac."

Leaning casually on a silver-tipped cane right beside him was Viscount Alistair, checking a gold pocket watch with cold, bored detachment.

"Clean it up," the Viscount said softly. I could hear the absolute authority in his voice. Compared to the right-hand man, the Viscount was in a different league. "A High sequence beyonder?" I thought to myself.

The right hand picked up a heavy iron poker and shoved the charred, smoking remains directly into the fireplace.

My eyes widened in the dark, a wave of icy clarity washing through my chest.

"I am completely outmatched."

Without making a sound, I backed away, slipped out into the rain, and vanished into the night before either of them knew I was there.

Back in my small room, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the blank wall for hours. Me surviving itself was a miracle. If the pocket watch had been on me I would've been done for.

"How? Why? What were they doing there? Did they know I was coming?"

"That informant who gave me the mission—did he know they would be there? That's right. He knew."

The puzzle pieces fell into place in my mind. They'd finally caught on to me.

It was possible. The informant was the Viscount's man, investigating the lackey's death. He'd found me and given me a mission, knowing full well I'd accept it. Knowing full well the Viscount and his right-hand man would be there.

He wanted me dead. And I should have seen it. No one pays with a Sequence 7 potion name to kill a small merchant.... I should've taken better precautions when killing the lackey.

At the thought of that night, the memory of the neighbor lady came rushing back in agonizing detail—her gentle smile, the dark bruises she tried to hide beneath her sleeves, the Lover tattoo carved on her hand, her quiet warmth. And then I remembered where I'd last seen her: pinned to a damp basement wall, treated like disposable meat.

A cold, absolute realization settled deep in my chest.

There are no gods protecting the poor. There is no justice in this city, or anywhere else. This nation is rotten to it's core.

The world was stripped bare: "There are only Hunters, and there is only Prey. The weak are used, broken, and burned to keep the wealthy warm. If I stayed weak, I’d end up on a hook just like her."

"If you don't want to be destroyed by the butchers, become someone who can't be destroyed by the butchers"

The moment that thought took root, something snapped violently inside me. The final, lingering weight of the Sequence 9 Hunter potion shattered, dissolving completely into my blood, my bones, and my spirit.

Fully digested.

A few nights later.

I stood in the alleyway wrapped in a heavy dark cloak, watching my house burn.

The flames roared inside the home I had shared with my father. Through the heat-warped glass of the window, I could see the silhouette of a woman’s body lying on my bed—a thief I’d tracked down and dragged here. Years ago, she had stolen my father’s life savings, leaving him a broken man until his last days. I’d spotted her dozens of times since, but was powerless to act. Tonight, she matched my height, my build, and my fate.

Thick columns of black smoke curled into the night sky as the fire took hold.

Panic broke out down the street. Neighbors flooded into the alley with wooden buckets, shouting and waving their arms.

"There's someone inside! The girl!" someone yelled.

I stepped deeper into the shadow of the alley, the flames reflecting quietly in my eyes. My past was ash. My identity was gone. The informant wanted me dead; I made sure I died.

I turned my back on the fire and walked away into the dark, pulling a small slip of paper from my pocket to check the ink:

Name: Lover

Place of Birth: Mehana, Capital of the Hakolo Kingdom

Age: 19

Status: Noblewoman

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Note:- The locations and names I'll be using for the setting are from u/TsarFrost's subreddit fanfic and the timeline of this RP would follow his timeline(he has posted it)

This story takes place in 2nd epoch of that timeline before the Monster vs Hunter war. The location is the Elphael.

Elphael and Hakolo kingdom are the nations present during that time.

Also while trying to write this, the first thing I realized that how corny writing abt Hunter pathway can get. I cringed at some lines myself😬

There's no credit for the image. It's just a adobe stock image. Might even be AI generated.

Credits:- funzo_k(on insta)

Except the obvious ones like Sun vs Death or Criminal

My pick : Lawyer countering Arbiter(I'm pretty conflicted tho, would it be more like a stalemate situation or Arbiter gets countered hard)

It says "You are trying to create nuisance in chat and would be blocked next time" or some shi along those lines

Is it because...Ayanokoji....my man 🤝😂