Chapter 15 – The Great Hunt
Morning broke like a war drum.
The towers of Revenak pulsed with golden light, each crystal spire chiming as it aligned with the rising sun. Down in the plaza, banners unfurled—white and silver, marked with the sigil of the Light-forged.
Hundreds of warriors stood in gleaming rows, weapons drawn in salute. The Citadel's gates blazed with holy energy. Today was the Great Hunt—the day Revenak's protectors left the safety of the barrier to cull the darkness that festered beyond.
John, Tamara, and Blake stood with their masters near the front. Ember sat beside John, no longer a cub but a four-legged beam of power. The Lumibear's fur rippled like molten gold threaded with blue lightning.
Leto's voice rang over the square.
"Each Hunt reminds us of balance. We are not conquerors—we are custodians. The Light must expand, or the Dark will consume the world."
Rin leaned lazily on his staff. "Translation: time to thin the herd."
A ripple of laughter spread through the warriors. Even John smiled. Then came the signal—a flare of radiance that climbed the sky and split the clouds.
The barrier began to part.
Crossing the Light
The world beyond the veil looked wrong.
Colors bled into one another, the air thick with shadowed ash. The sun dimmed as if smothered by unseen smoke.
Leto's spear flared, and he raised it high.
"Stay close. The dark feeds on distance."
The first creature came crawling from a rift in the soil—black chitin, too many legs, a mouth that unfolded like a flower of knives.
Blake moved first. His energy pulsed greenish-purple, toxic and sharp. He spun his daggers in a blur and flung one forward; the blade shimmered, coated in a thin venom haze that corroded the monster's shell on impact.
"Guess Rin's poison lessons weren't useless after all," he muttered, snapping his fingers. The second dagger erupted in a flash of purple fire.
John watched, impressed. He's faster. Sharper. Blake's aura now felt almost equal to the peak of mid F-tier. He's close to high Ftier cultivation level.
Tamara stepped past them, frost glimmering from her boots. Her new sword—Frostvein Edge—sang as she raised it. The air around her crystallized.
She slashed downward; a line of frozen light shot from the blade, spearing through three beasts at once. Shards of ice burst outward, blooming into spiked walls that pinned the rest.
Then she whispered, "Fracture."
The ice detonated, reducing the creatures to frost dust.
Blake whistled. "Remind me never to make her mad."
Tamara exhaled, steam curling from her lips. Her aura shimmered, dense and cold—almost at high F-tier.
Fire and Fang
John tightened his grip on the Spear of Revenak. His core pulsed with fire and light in perfect harmony. The first beast lunged—and John met it halfway.
His spear struck once, twice, three times—each motion seamless, precise. The weapon left trails of flame that hung in the air for a heartbeat before exploding.
Another creature lunged from the flank. John dropped his weapon, clenched his fist, and slammed it forward.
Flame Burst.
A fiery imprint erupted from his knuckles—a punch of pure incandescent heat that incinerated the monster in one blow. The flames curved like dragon's breath, leaving molten earth beneath his boots.
He grinned through the smoke. "Guess Leto's drills paid off."
Above him, Ember roared—a sound that shook the sky. The Lumibear dove, claws glowing white. Each swipe tore through the shadows like tearing silk. Every dark beast that touched his light disintegrated into motes.
When Ember landed beside him, the ground cracked under his new weight. His glowing eyes scanned the field, daring anything else to move.
John reached up, patting his fur. "Show-off."
Hours passed in battle. The warriors pushed deeper into the ash fields, leaving a trail of burning carcasses. Then came the tremor—deep, resonant, wrong.
Three silhouettes rose from the horizon—each wrapped in black flame, their armor forged from obsidian and scarred with crimson runes that pulsed like veins. The ground withered beneath their steps.
Leto's spear lowered, his expression hardening. "No… it can't be."
Alina's frost aura flared, mist coiling around her like a living storm. "They were supposed to be dead."
Rin's voice came out as a hiss. "They're not dead. They chose the dark."
The figures stopped just beyond the front line. Even through the haze, John could see their faces—human once, now twisted by shadow.
Leto's jaw clenched. "The Fallen Guardians."
The one at the center laughed—a sharp, cold sound that carried across the battlefield. His armor blazed with red markings, and a massive halberd rested on his shoulder.
"Still clinging to your light, old friend?" he called out. "You could have stood with us, Leto. You could have been free."
"Free?" Leto's voice was like iron striking stone. "You sold your souls for power."
The halberd wielder grinned. "Power is freedom."
The woman beside him, her body wreathed in violet lightning, lifted a curved blade that shimmered like a storm trapped in glass. "You always did talk too much," she purred.
The third warrior—massive, silent, and covered in jagged black spikes—slammed his hammer into the ground. The shockwave rippled through the field, turning the soil to ash.
Leto's spear flared. "Hold the line!"
The battlefield erupted. Each master met their dark counterpart, light and shadow clashing in storms of radiance and corruption.
In the chaos, John, Tamara, and Blake were driven apart from the main force—cut off by falling debris and dark flames. The barrier was a faint glimmer miles behind them now.
John lifted his spear. "We regroup with Leto—now!"
Blake nodded. "On your six."
But the world went quiet.
Too quiet.
Then came the voice—low, velvet, cruel.
He stepped from the mist like a living eclipse—tall, elegant, armor carved from obsidian glass. His eyes burned violet-crimson, and a faint crown of black flame circled his head.
"Ah," he murmured. "The outsiders who carry the broken prophecy."
Tamara's hand went to her sword. "Who are you?"
He smiled. "Names are for mortals. But you may call me what the Light once did—the Dark Prince."
John felt the air twist. The man's presence pressed on his chest like gravity.
"What do you want?" John demanded.
"What all light should desire—freedom." His eyes glowed hotter. "Tell me, John. When you fight, does it not burn? When you breathe, does the Light not demand more and more of you? The System that bound your world—does it not whisper obedience?"
John stiffened. "How do you—"
"I know what you are," the Prince said softly. "The Light chose you, but it fears you. Join me, and I will unshackle you. No more restraint. No more balance. Only power."
Tamara stepped between them. "He's not interested."
The Prince's smile vanished. "Pity."
A single motion—his palm opened, gathering black energy that pulsed like a dying sun.
Then he fired.
The beam screamed through the air, aimed straight for Tamara.
John didn't think. He moved.
The blast hit him square in the chest.
Light and shadow exploded.
He staggered, smoke rising from the hole burned clean through his armor and flesh. For a moment, the world tilted—sound fading to a distant hum.
"John!" Tamara screamed, catching him as he fell to one knee.
He coughed blood, forcing a grin. "Still… breathing."
From his pouch, he pulled three Stealth Potions, pressing one into each of their hands.
"Take them," he rasped. "Now."
"John, you're hurt—"
"Do it!"
Ember faster then a high F tier monster with the evolution led the pack.
The moment they drank, their forms shimmered—bodies fading into streams of silver light. They vanished just as another blast of dark energy struck where they'd stood.
The Dark Prince's expression twisted with fury. "Cowards."
Blake reappeared beside John a hundred meters away, catching him as he stumbled. "Damn it—hold on!"
John's blood glowed faint gold against the darkness. "We have to get to the Barrier…"
Tamara re-materialized beside them, half-frozen aura flickering. "The potion's effects are gone—move!"
They ran. Ember roared behind them, firing beams of light from his maw to keep the encroaching darkness at bay.
The Dark Prince gave chase, his laughter echoing. "You cannot flee eternity."
The barrier's light appeared in the distance—a thin, wavering line of salvation.
Blake gasped. "Almost there—come on!"
A surge of dark power streaked toward them—unstoppable, devouring. Tamara raised her sword, but she was too slow.
Then the world split open with light.
A beam of pure radiance descended from above, cleaving the darkness in half. When the brilliance faded, another figure stood between them—Prince Caelus, the Light Prince of Revenak.
Golden wings of energy unfolded from his back, his expression calm but deadly.
"Brother," he said softly.
The Dark Prince smiled faintly. "Still playing guardian, I see."
Caelus's eyes hardened. "Still destroying what you don't understand."
They faced each other across the shattered field—light and shadow coiling like storms. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
The Dark Prince tilted his head. "You can't protect them forever."
"I don't need forever," Caelus replied. "Just long enough."
Darkness folded in on itself, and the Dark Prince vanished, leaving only a lingering echo of laughter.
Caelus turned to John, his gaze softening. "You've walked further than the Light intended."
John sank to one knee, clutching his wound. "He… wanted me to join him."
"And he will try again," Caelus said. "Rest now. Your path isn't done."
The Light Prince raised a hand. A wave of golden radiance washed over them, sealing John's wound and easing the ache in their cores.
"Return to the Citadel," he said quietly. "Tomorrow, we speak of what lies beyond the Hunt."
As the trio staggered back toward the barrier, Ember lumbering beside them, John glanced once over his shoulder. The horizon was black, trembling with unseen movement.
He whispered to himself,
"This isn't over."
Then everything went dark as he passed out