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Chapter 18 - Hunt [4] Finale

  So

  slow


  
Stark

  thought as the knight’s

  blade whistled past his neck.

  He

  saw their movements in slow motion. His mind overflowed with

  sensations—every step, every breath, every shift in the air around

  him. The sharp edge of their killing intent pressed against his skin

  like a blade.

  Is

  this the result of the spell


  Another

  knight lunged. Stark sidestepped effortlessly, parrying the strike

  and with a flick of the wrist sent the blade off-center opening up a

  gap. Quickly, Stark stepped in and drove his knee into the knight’s

  gut, denting his armor with a metallic crunch.

  A

  second knight stabbed toward his face. Stark’s

  sensed the attack. He closed in, allowing the blade to whistle past

  his cheek. In the same motion, he coiled his arm around the knight’s

  joint and—snap.

  A

  bloodcurdling scream tore through the battlefield.

  “NOOO!!!”

  The

  knight staggered back, clutching his now-crippled arm.

  Stark

  didn’t

  hesitate. Pivoting on his heel, he drove a powerful kick right at the

  knight’s head. The knight’s neck bent to the side as he crumpled

  to the ground—unconscious.

  The

  world felt surreal. His heart pounded. Adrenaline coursed through his

  veins like wildfire.

  This

  is real.


  Stark

  stared at the fallen knight, his breathing heavy.

  

  I just defeated a knight.


  “Alert!” a knight barked. “The

  devil did something to him—he’s more powerful!”

  The knights quickly put distance

  between themselves and regrouped.

  Stark picked up a dagger from the

  fallen knight. He had no shield, no proper armor—only his trusty

  sword and the worn leather gear he used for hunting monsters. Though

  Krul had enhanced his physical prowess, Stark still felt a knot of

  unease in his chest.

  He had never killed a human before.

  Never faced such overwhelming killing intent. Even with his new

  strength, his mind remained the same.

  I

  have to adapt. I can
’t

  be a burden to Krul.


  ’s

  do this…
He

  took a deep breath.

  “You’re risking your life for a

  filthy slave,” Zarius sneered. “Even using Bond

  and Transfer

  just for him?”

  “You still haven’t learned your

  lesson, huh?” Krul shrugged. “Even in my weakened state, you’re

  struggling to capture me.”

  Zarius’s

  expression darkened. “That doesn’t matter. How long can you even

  keep up this facade

  of strength with

  your mana burning away?”

  “Knights, attack. Magus, provide

  support!” Zarius ordered. Then, turning to Vivy, he added, “You,

  child—prepare that thing.”

  “Yes, Lord Zarius,” Vivy nodded.

  I

  was right to call him. They aren
’t

  enough to take Krul down.
Zarius

  smirked.

  BOOM!

  The ground split apart as Drek

  and Thalia

  attacked in unison, leaving the devil little room to dodge. Magus

  from behind launched a barrage of spells—jagged rocks and roaring

  flames hurtling straight toward Krul.

  He barely managed to defend himself

  against the relentless onslaught.

  Krul cursed.

  Krul

  blocked Thalia’s

  war hammer with his sword and Drek’s staff with a barrier at the

  same time. Sweat began to form on his brow.

  Forsaken

  Arts, Second Form: Amplification.

  A

  surge of power coursed through his body as the second form activated.

  His mana would burn away much faster, but the spell strength it

  granted was necessary to handle the threats before him.

  Vivy

  Kolbrone cast a disorientation spell, distorting Krul’s

  senses. For a brief moment, the battlefield blurred—his vision

  wavered, his balance shifted.

  But

  Krul had faced such magic before. With a sharp breath, he dispelled

  it instantly. Then, he charged at Drek—his movements now even

  faster, his spells even deadlier and precise.

  His

  blade whistled past Drek’s

  shoulder. The sheer force of the swing sent a shockwave through the

  knight’s armor, cracking it.

  Thalia

  lunged at him from behind. Krul dodged smoothly to the side, placing

  his palm against her ribs before unleashing a searing purple beam .

  A

  sickening crack echoed as her thick, black armor shattered from the

  impact.

  “ARGH!!

  FUCK!! YOU DEVIL!!” she screamed, coughing up blood as she clutched

  her side.

  From

  a distance, Zarius clicked his tongue and cast Blast.

  The

  ground beneath Krul erupted into a storm of fire and debris.

  Despite

  being blind, the old man relied on his spatial detection spell to

  track the battlefield. He could feel it—Krul had fully unleashed

  his second form.

  To

  think he could wield it even under this much suppression


  He truly is a monster.


  Krul

  emerged from the flames, minor burns searing his side.

  Zarius’s

  expression twisted in frustration. “You—what are you waiting

  for?! Attack him before he kills that girl!” he barked at Drek.

  Snapping

  out, He charged. Drek aimed for the devil’s

  heart, Unfortunately the devil stepped to the side and grabbed his

  arm mid strike and drove his sword right into Drek’s shoulder. The

  armor shattered almost instantly, the blood sprayed out.

  Drek

  let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  Krul

  placed his palm against his gut and unleashed Zor.

  A

  blinding purple beam tore through the air, blasting the knight square

  in the stomach. The sheer force sent him flying, his body launching

  violently midair—leaving his arm severed m in the devil’s

  grasp.

  Even

  after coating himself in Aura as a last-ditch defense, the knight’s

  internal organs were completely ruptured by the impact.

  “Useless.”

  Zarius spat as Drek fell unconscious.

  Earth’s

  Cage.

  The

  old man carved a glyph into the air. The ground beneath Krul

  shuddered violently before jagged stone erupted around him, enclosing

  him in a massive rock prison.

  Layer

  upon layer stacked over the cage, reinforcing the trap—stalling the

  devil for a few seconds.

  “Cast

  illusions and disorientation spells!” Zarius barked at Vivy.

  For

  a brief moment, she stood frozen, dumbfounded.

  She

  trusted him the most—her bodyguard, her strongest aide—yet he

  lost his arm in an instant.

  Vivy

  had underestimated the devil. Even in his weakened state, he was

  still this powerful.

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  Snapping

  out of her daze, Vivy quickly cast Illusion Smoke and Disorientation

  spells.

  From

  inside the cage, she could feel the ground tremble as Krul bashed the

  rock walls with bombardment spells, trying to break free.

  “Cast

  another cage over him!” Zarius roared at the Magus unit.

  Then,

  turning to Vivy, he commanded, “You—child.

  Use it. NOW.”

  Vivy

  nodded quickly and reached into her robes, pulling out a relic of her

  noble lineage—

  Chains

  of Submission.

  A

  relic passed down through the Kolbrone family for generations.

  It

  was said to be powerful enough to completely suppress one’s

  strength and bind the target’s will, placing them under an

  inescapable mind-control spell.

  The

  Chains of Submission appeared like ordinary metal links, but once

  activated, they would lash onto the target, sealing them within a

  crimson, pyramidal prison.

  Despite

  its overwhelming power, the relic had a fatal flaw.

  However,

  it took thirty seconds to fully activate.

  And

  most importantly—the target had to remain inside the structure for

  the spell to take effect.

  BOOM.

  The

  stone cage erupted into debris as Vivy began the activation sequence.

  Krul

  hovered midair, glaring down at his enemies with a deadly expression.

  “You…”

  In

  a blink, he charged toward the priests.

  Thalia,

  battered and barely standing, threw herself into his path. Despite

  her injuries, she gritted her teeth, tightening her core as she

  braced for impact.

  Krul

  stabbed her through the gut.

  The

  blade lodged deep, but she clamped her muscles down, trying to trap

  the weapon and disarm him.

  “Filth,

  get out of my way.” His voice was as cold as death itself.

  Evil

  Blade.

  "N—!!"

  Thalia

  barely had time to react. A burst of dark energy slammed her chest,

  sending her soaring into the air.

  Before

  she could land, Krul appeared above her in an instant, using Speed.

  CRACK.

  His

  strike sent her slamming into the ground, her limbs twisting

  unnaturally upon impact. Blood sprayed from the wound in her abdomen.

  Krul

  didn’t

  stop.

  In

  a blur, he reappeared in front of Wez.

  The

  priest barely had time to utter a word—

  “You

  heretic, Z—”

  Krul

  grabbed his face.

  "Die."

  Explode.

  Wez’s

  head burst apart, spraying blood, brain matter, and shattered bone

  across the battlefield. His lifeless body collapsed, twitching before

  it finally stilled.

  The

  remaining priests stood paralyzed in horror, staring at the grotesque

  remains of their leader.

  Krul

  turned to them, eyes gleaming with pure malice.

  “You

  cursed bootlickers of that dog Zaras’th… also die.”

  In

  an instant, they did.

  The

  priests exploded into fountains of gore, their bodies reduced into

  blood and shredded flesh.

  Krul

  stood in the center of the carnage, his body drenched in the crimson

  rain of his enemies.

  The

  red shackles around his wrists faded back to their original color.

  His

  gaze shifted to Zarius.

  The

  old man stood frozen, sweat beading on his brow as he felt the

  devil’s

  true terror

  “Zarius,

  I will send you off nicely this time.”

  Vivy

  shook violently, paralyzed by the sheer grotesque, destructive power

  of the devil. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, gripping the Chains

  of Submission so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

  She

  couldn’t

  move.

  She

  couldn’t

  even speak.

  The

  Ancient Devil’s

  presence was suffocating.

  Krul

  carved a dark glyph into the air.

  Death.

  “NO!!

  I BEG OF YOU, PLEA—” Zarius screamed hysterically.

  “Too

  late, you dog.” Krul’s voice was cold, absolute. He raised his

  hand to activate the glyph.

  “Oh?

  I think I’m just on time.”

  A

  amused voice echoed across the battlefield

  Krul

  froze.

  “And

  you… Devil. I suggest you don’t activate that, unless you want

  this slave boy to lose his head.”

  Krul

  turned his gaze toward the speaker.

  A

  young man in full armor stood confidently, his sword’s

  edge pressed against Stark’s neck.

  A

  sinister aura seeped from him, unlike anyone else on the battlefield.

  He

  reeked of death.

  Krul’s

  eyes caught Stark trembling, his legs shaking uncontrollably. Sweat

  dripped from the boy’s brow, his eyes wide with pure terror.

  “Grandmaster

  Arlen… Finally, you are here.” Zarius gasped, his shoulders

  sagging with relief.

  “Arlen…”

  Krul murmured, his mind racing.

  A

  Grandmaster


  so young. Did he undergo body reconstruction?


  But

  speculation didn’t

  matter.

  Krul

  could tell instantly—this man was the strongest one on the

  battlefield. Stronger than Zarius.

  A

  Grandmaster was a kingdom’s

  ultimate weapon. A single Grandmaster could level cities, alter

  landscapes, and annihilate armies. They were the harbingers of

  destruction

  And

  now, such a monster had come to hunt the Devil of Kastar.

  Krul’s

  voice was calm.

  “Unhand

  the child.”

  “No.”

  Arlen’s reply was flat.

  Krul’s

  eyes narrowed.

  “Do

  you want to die?”

  Arlen

  smiled and pressed the blade harder against Stark’s

  throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

  “Let’s

  test it, then.” His voice was almost amused. “Which is

  faster—your attack, or my blade?”

  Krul’s

  expression remained unreadable, but he could tell Arlen was serious.

  There

  wasn’t

  a single speck of emotion in those scarlet eyes of his.

  One

  wrong move, and Stark would die.

  Silence

  stretched between them as they stared each other down.

  Then—

  Arlen

  sighed.

  “Man…

  let’s make a deal.”

  Krul’s

  brow lifted slightly. “A deal?”

  “You

  surrender right now, and I’ll let this child leave the battlefield

  alive.”

  Krul

  said nothing.

  Stark’s

  sharp voice cut through the battlefield.

  “Don’t

  listen to them, Teacher!” He yelled.

  Arlen

  chuckled. “Oh,

  what a cute bond.” His smile widened as he turned to Stark. “But

  it’s not up to you, slave child.”

  His

  scarlet eyes locked onto Krul’s

  once more.

  “So?

  What’s your answer, Devil?”

  Krul

  wiped the blood from his face, eyes cold. “I

  don’t trust you. How can I be sure?”

  Arlen

  smirked. “We’ll

  do a Life Pact.”

  Krul’s

  gaze darkened.

  He

  knew what that meant.

  A

  Life Pact was a contract sealed with one’s

  very existence. Break it, and death was instant. There was taking

  back from a Life Pact.

  “Grandmaster

  Arlen!!” Zarius interrupted, aghast. “What are you doing? Making

  a deal with such filth?”

  Arlen’s

  voice turned ice-cold.

  “Shut

  it, Zarius.”

  The

  old man stiffened, then shrank back.

  “Teacher,

  don—”

  Before

  Stark could finish, Arlen’s

  hand clamped over his mouth.

  Krul

  exhaled softly.

  “Sorry,

  child. I don’t want another regret.” Krul muttered under his

  breath.

  Then,

  he met Arlen’s

  gaze.

  “I

  agree to a Life Pact.”

  Arlen’s

  face lit up brightly.

  “Really?

  Nice. Let’s do it.”

  “I,

  Arlen Regia, swear on my life not to harm the slave boy and to let

  him leave the battlefield alive and safe.”

  A

  chain materialized in the air, its twin daggers gleaming. One dagger

  shot forward, piercing Arlen’s

  chest, wrapping around his heart—the unmistakable mark of a Life

  Pact.

  “Your

  turn, dear Devil.” Arlen smirked.

  Krul

  glanced at Stark.

  Tears

  streamed down the boy’s

  red-rimmed eyes.

  Krul

  sighed, looking away.

  “I,

  Krul Ashborn, swear on my life to surrender and comply with Arlen

  Regia’s demands.”

  The

  second dagger impaled his chest, its chain wrapping around his heart

  like a cursed serpent.

  Arlen

  clapped his hands. “You

  did well.”

  Then,

  with a smile—“Now,

  use the Chains of Submission on him. And, Devil, I demand you to stay

  still.”

  He

  released Stark from his grasp and steppedback as Vivy activated the

  relic.

  The

  Chains of Submission enveloped Krul in a pyramidal prison. The air

  grew thick with mana suppression, and after thirty seconds, a collar

  snapped around his neck, sealing his power.

  Krul

  tested his strength, but his mana refused to answer. This was unlike

  the Anti-Magic barrier. The mana in him was jumbled so badly, he

  couldn’t

  materialize. It was the effect of the relic.

  “A

  relic, huh?” he mused.

  “What?!

  Why isn’t the mind control working?” Vivy gasped.

  Krul

  shrugged. “Doesn’t

  work on me.”

  Even

  so, his power had been stripped away. With the chains binding him, he

  was but a husk of his former self.

  Arlen

  chuckled. “Good

  job, Vivy Kolbrone. You played your part well.”

  Then,

  turning to Stark—“As

  promised, I release the slave boy.”

  His

  scarlet eyes gleamed coldly. “You’re

  free to go, slave boy. No one will stop you.”

  Stark

  froze.

  Krul…

  had sacrificed himself. The cold, ruthless Devil… had given up his

  life to save Stark’s.

  Tears

  spilled from the boy’s

  eyes.

  “Go,

  child.” Krul’s voice was gentle. “Live your life.”

  Stark’s

  lips quivered, but he knew—refusing meant throwing Krul’s

  sacrifice away.

  With

  one last look, he turned and ran.

  The

  battlefield watched in silence.

  “He

  finally left.” Arlen smirked.

  Zarius

  stepped forward, his face twisted in confusion. “Grandmaster

  Arlen, what is the meaning of this? Why did you let the boy live?”

  “Oh,

  Zarius.” Arlen sighed, patting his shoulder. “Poor you… I

  didn’t think you’d have to leave the world this early.”

  Zarius

  blinked. “Huh?

  What are you saying?”

  Arlen’s

  smile widened. “The High Council has determined that Grand

  Magus Zarius


  is responsible for stalling Project Nyx.”

  Zarius

  staggered back. “WHAT?!

  That’s impossible! Those three were just as responsible as me!”

  “Well…”

  Arlen tilted his head mockingly. “The Council decided to strip you

  of your title… and send you off to the afterlife—safely.”

  “No!

  WAIT—”

  Zarius

  never finished his plea.

  In

  an instant, his body exploded into a million pieces, diced into a mix

  of flesh and bone.

  Blood

  rained down in front of Arlen.

  Arlen

  sighed with a mocking expression at the cubed remains of the former

  Grand Magus. “Oh

  dear, didn’t I

  you not to get on his bad side, little Zarius?”

  Silence.

  The

  others—knights, magus—stood frozen, horrified.

  Then

  Arlen smiled cruelly. “Ah,

  right. I forgot we had an audience.”

  Before

  anyone could react, they all died.

  The

  battlefield was wiped clean.

  The

  knights and Magus collapsed in unison, their bodies shredded apart by

  an invisible force. Blood soaked the sand in an instant.

  Only

  three remained—Vivy, Thalia, and Drek.

  Vivy

  stumbled back, falling to the ground. Her eyes widened in horror as

  her knights’

  mutilated corpses surrounded her, the acrid stench of blood and

  fluids reached her nose. Breath hitched. Chest heaved. She was

  hyperventilating.

  Arlen

  crouched beside her, his voice soft and gentle

  “I

  trust you’ll keep this our little secret, Miss Kolbrone?” He

  patted her shoulder, smiling coldly.

  Vivy

  couldn’t

  answer. She just stared at him with sweat and tears streaming down

  her face.

  “Good

  girl.” Arlen stood, dusting off his hands. “My unit will be here

  soon. Gather your little friends. We leave for the Capital.”

  Then,

  he turned to Krul.

  The

  Devil’s

  gaze remained nonchalant as Arlen killed his own comrades.

  “Oh,

  and before I forget.” Arlen leaned in, amusingly. “That Life

  Pact? It only guaranteed your little slave

  boy

  would leave the battlefield safely and that

  wouldn’t

  harm him.”

  Krul’s

  stomach dropped. “…You didn’t—”

  Arlen’s

  grin widened. “Oh, I did.”

  He

  laughed.

  “I

  already sent a knight to finish him off.”

  “YOU

  FUCKING VERMIN!!!” Krul’s roar shook the battlefield.

  Arlen

  only laughed harder at his reaction.

  The

  man wasn’t

  just a Grandmaster.

  He

  was a monster in human skin.

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