Puppet Master Chapter 25: Chapter 25: Checkmate

Read chapter 25 of Puppet Master by PeName on NovelPedia.

Several more minutes passed, yet neither Tris nor Veylor had managed to inflict any real damage on the other. Even so, both remained extremely patient. 'Fast… but still not fast enough to catch me. That puppet’s defense is troublesome, but if I keep focusing my attacks on a single point, it should eventually break.' Veylor calculated calmly, showing no sign of impatience as he continued the fight. At that moment, he noticed something strange. Tris had stopped chasing—and was now standing still. A sense of unease crept over him. 'Is the boy about to use some kind of special magic?' Veylor immediately raised his guard, pouring more Spiritual energy into both speed and defense. As a seasoned Mage with vast experience, he did not dare underestimate an opponent like Tris in the slightest. Suddenly, a sound of wind descended from above. Not daring to take his eyes off Tris, Veylor only allowed himself a glance upward from the corner of his vision. 'Something’s there… a shadow just passed overhead. A bird?' He couldn’t be certain—there was no time to look closely. Then— Something fell from the sky. Through Berserker’s massive hand, Tris calmly caught it. Only then did Veylor see clearly what had been dropped. A human arm. On one of its fingers… was a ring. Because Berserker’s hand was so large, Tris had to carefully adjust his grip to retrieve the ring without crushing it. Once secured, the puppet casually tossed the ring into its mouth. Given the puppet’s structure, it was obvious where the ring ended up in Tris’s hand, hidden within. “Oh? Staying quiet? Don’t you have any questions, Veylor?” Tris’s voice echoed from inside the puppet. “Where did you get that arm?” Veylor demanded, anger flaring in his voice. “Oh? Where did that usual composure of yours go? With your keen observation and analysis… You already know the answer, don’t you?” Tris’s childish voice carried an unmistakable note of delight. That tone… it sounded like a child receiving a long-awaited gift. But in stark contrast, Veylor’s heart grew heavy with dread—and fury. Yes. With his observational ability, the answer was obvious. And it was an answer he wished to deny. “Zarek… is he dead?” Veylor asked through clenched teeth. The sleeve. The ring. The way it was worn. Everything belonged to Zarek. “Ah, he’s still breathing for now. But judging by how much blood he lost after dropping this…” Tris waved the severed arm lightly. “…he probably doesn’t have long.” How had Tris managed to reach Zarek? Did he have an accomplice? Veylor did not know. But one thing was clear— He had been cornered. If escape was the goal, Veylor was confident he could shake off Tris and get away alone. But to locate Zarek, rescue him, and then escape with both of them—while still being hunted— That was impossible. Especially when the method used to attack Zarek remained unknown. If he wanted to save Zarek— even if the chance was vanishingly small— There was only one path left. He had to kill Tris. As quickly as possible. At that moment, a chilling realization struck him. 'That earlier conversation… about my motives… Did the boy already plan everything from the start? Knowing I swore loyalty to the village chief… did he turn Zarek into a hostage, forcing me to act exactly as he intended?' Cold sweat soaked his back, washing away even his anger. The feeling of being played—of dancing in the palm of another’s hand— This was the first time Veylor had ever felt such terror. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. 'This… may very well be my final battle.' As that thought settled, he removed his cloak. Seeing the unusual action, Tris’s vigilance immediately sharpened. Despite the relaxed—even mocking—demeanor he often displayed, his mind never stopped analyzing, calculating, and guarding against every possibility. Defeat could strike the moment one believed victory was certain. That was another lesson he had learned from his dreams. Countless experiences had shaped a mindset that left no room for