Looking up, Roy saw a massive, uniquely designed spaceship descending.
He recognized it as belonging to the Predator clan. The trial must be over, and they were here to pick up their people.
Roy quickly shifted back to human form to avoid unnecessary trouble. Demons weren't just active on Earth—they appeared on other planets too, as Asmodeus's actions had shown. Their reputation in the cosmos wasn't great, and many civilizations would attack a demon on sight.
At that moment, the Predators who'd undergone the trial emerged from the tunnel. Only three of the four remained, and all were injured. The Xenomorph Queen's guards clearly hadn't gone easy on them.
The Predator ship landed, and a group of Predators disembarked, led by a particularly tall one wielding a large spear and wearing a cape. This was likely a Predator Elder, a high-ranking leader in their clan. Since tribal chieftains and the Predator Queen rarely left their homeworld unless there was an interstellar war, Elders were typically the highest-ranking Predators outsiders would encounter.
The Elder looked at the three trial survivors, then at Roy, muttering something in their guttural language. The trial team's leader responded in kind.
The Elder issued a command, and an elite Predator approached Roy. The Predator hierarchy was clear, based on hunting prowess. The weakest were unblooded Young Bloods, followed by newly matured Predators training for their trials, like the seven Roy had encountered earlier. Those who passed the trial became Blooded Predators, the clan's basic combat units, each having killed a Xenomorph solo. Above them were Elites, capable of taking on multiple Xenomorphs or even a Queen's guard. They served as guards for the ruling class or trained Young Bloods and unblooded Predators. At the top were the true rulers: Elders, Chieftains, and the Queen. These ranks required not just strength but also noble bloodlines.
There were also rare ranks, like Arbitrators who resolved tribal disputes, with combat skills surpassing Elites, and Ancient Predators, frozen in stasis and revived only during major crises.
The Elite Predator handed Roy a wrist-mounted microcomputer and a tactical helmet, gesturing for him to put them on. Roy understood—they wanted to communicate directly through the helmet's translator.
Predator heads were much larger than humans', so the helmet fit easily, though the smell inside… Roy took a whiff and decided to hold his breath. With his current stats, he could go hours without breathing.
Once Roy equipped the helmet and microcomputer, the Elder spoke, his voice translated into a mechanical tone. "Human, thank you for aiding our clan. We admire your courage and strength. These items are gifts, symbols of our friendship."
Whoa, free stuff? Not bad.
The microcomputer and tactical helmet were high-tech marvels. The helmet's material alone was worth studying. If Roy could reverse-engineer their tech, he could start his own tech company.
"I'll remember the Predator clan's friendship," Roy replied, his words translated into their language.
The Elder nodded, then ordered his Blooded Predators to retrieve the incapacitated Xenomorph Queen.
Roy wasn't having it—he hadn't unlocked his rune yet. "Hold on, that's my trophy. What are you doing?"
The Elder looked puzzled. "Human, didn't you accept our gifts?"
Oh, so the microcomputer and helmet were meant as a trade for the Queen? No way. The Xenomorph Queen was a legendary creature, and Roy would rather ditch the tech than miss out on a new rune for his Leviathan Axe. The mimicry rune he'd gotten before was too useful to pass up another.
"This is my trophy. I'll give back your gifts, but the trophy's mine."
"This creature is dangerous, beyond your ability to handle. Leave it to us," the Elder said, a hint of displeasure in his tone.
Clearly, the Predators viewed humans as inferior, like a superior empire dealing with a primitive tribe. Take the gifts, offer tribute, and stay in line—or else. It was still better than some Western civilizations that just looted or deceived native peoples, like what happened to Africans and Native Americans.
"I decide what I can handle. If I beat it, I can deal with it," Roy shot back.
The Xenomorph Queen, lying pitifully on the ground, was just a fish on the chopping block—no one cared how it felt.
The Elder seemed ready to argue, but the trial team leader, Hark, whispered something to him. The Elder's attitude shifted.
"Human, Hark tells me your strength is formidable. How about we settle this the Predator way?"
"What's that?"
"A one-on-one duel."
Roy glanced at Hark, surprised. Hark had seen him pummel the Xenomorph Queen in the pyramid and knew his strength, yet he suggested a duel. Roy suspected Hark was setting the Elder up, but he had no proof.
"I'm in," Roy agreed.
The Elder signaled the Elite who'd given Roy the helmet to step forward. This Elite was a dual-wielder, carrying two curved blades on his back. He drew them and performed a flashy display of swordsmanship.
Roy removed the helmet and microcomputer. The helmet was advanced but dulled his senses, and he wasn't used to fighting with it on.
He and the Elite squared off. Roy didn't even draw a weapon—he didn't want the Predators thinking his strength came from gear.
The Elite gestured for Roy to arm himself, but Roy refused. "No weapons. I'll fight bare-handed."
That seemed to piss off the Elite. The Predator clan revered strength and honor, which made them inherently arrogant.
The Elite stomped the ground, leaving a small crater in the snow, and charged at near-sonic speed. That burst of power was worthy of an Elite.
But it didn't matter. Roy activated Bullet Time, slowing the Elite's movements to a crawl in his eyes. With a clean roundhouse kick, he struck the Elite's chest, sending him flying. The Predator crashed to the ground, spitting blood, his armored chest caved in—a terrifying sight.
"Sorry, I might've hit too hard," Roy said.
The injury looked bad, but with Predator physiology and their tech, it wasn't fatal. A few hours in their ship's medbay, and he'd be back on his feet.
Blooded Predators quickly carried the injured Elite back to the ship.
The Elder pointed at Roy. "What's that mean?" Roy asked, putting the helmet back on.
"I want to duel you too," the Elder said.
He was clearly eager to test Roy himself, but Roy wasn't interested. The Predators weren't that impressive to him, and they didn't drop loot like a treasure chest, so what was the point?
"I'm not interested. I won the duel, so the Queen's mine, right?"
The Elder pressed, "One more fight. If you lose, we take the Queen. If I lose, this spear is yours."
He pressed a button, and the spear's tip sparked with electricity. It was a high-tech weapon that could discharge energy.
Roy's interest was piqued. The Elder's weapon was no trinket, and even if he didn't use it, it'd be great for the women in his life.
"Deal."
The Elder removed his cape and approached Roy. They stood 50 meters apart, ready to fight.
Knowing Roy's strength, the Elder didn't attack immediately, instead observing him closely.
Roy, however, stood casually, not even in a fighting stance.
"Hey, you gonna make a move?" Roy asked.
The Elder shook his head.
"Alright, my turn then!"
Roy exploded forward in ghost wolf form, closing the gap instantly and throwing a punch like a cannon shot. The compressed air pressure was palpable.
The Elder dodged with uncanny grace, rolling away like a leaf in the wind to create distance.
Roy was impressed. He hadn't gone all out, but that punch still carried 70-80 strength points, and the Elder evaded it. This guy was on another level compared to the Elite—like an adult versus a child.
"Interesting! I held back on that one, but this time I'm going all out. Get ready!"
The Elder nodded, bracing for Roy's true power.
Roy planted his feet, then threw a punch so fast it was a blur, breaking the sound barrier with a loud crack. Even if it missed, the shockwave could disrupt an opponent.
The Elder tried to dodge again, succeeding partially. Roy's fist didn't connect, but the air blast caught his dreadlocks—thick, decorative braids like those of some humans, impractical for combat. They became his downfall.
The shockwave yanked the Elder forward, tearing half his dreadlocks off, leaving him looking pathetic.
Roy held back on a follow-up punch, giving the Elder a moment.
The Elder knelt, using his spear for support. He knew Roy outclassed him but refused to back down. As a warrior, fighting stronger opponents was the path to growth.
Roy saw the Elder's intent—he was at a bottleneck and wanted a breakthrough by facing him. So, Roy didn't go for the kill, instead using just enough force to push the Elder to his limits.
The fight captivated the other Predators. Their warrior culture recognized its value, even though the Elder was clearly outmatched, getting spun like a top. Still, his responses improved with each exchange.
Roy sensed the Elder was close to a breakthrough and decided to end it with one final attack to shatter his limits.
"Ready? I'm getting serious now!"
The Elder nodded.
Roy stacked his buffs: Blood Fury, Fear Incarnate, and War Domain. His aura became almost tangible, forcing the watching Predators to step back. The Elder, locked in Roy's sights, could barely stand, nearly collapsing to his knees.
Roy charged and swung a fist at the side of the Elder's head. The punch shattered the Elder's helmet and sent a shockwave skyward, dispersing the clouds above.
"It's over."
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