The Hunter Monarch

The rustling in the blood-red ferns intensified, accompanied by a low, guttural clicking sound. Lin Yu's knuckles were white where he gripped his sword, every muscle in his body screaming at him to flee. But where could he run? In this vast, suffocating jungle, every direction was just a different path to the same unknown horror. To run without a plan was to die tired. He held his ground, his back pressed against the cold, damp stone of the cliff face, trying to make himself as small a target as possible.

Two creatures emerged from the ferns, and Lin Yu's fragile spark of defiance almost sputtered out and died.

They were raptors, but they were twisted, monstrous parodies of the raptors he'd only ever seen in faded diagrams and Hunter-submitted bestiary files. Each one was easily the size of a tiger, their powerful hind legs ending in sickle-like claws that were as long as his forearm. Their skin was not scaled, but was a tough, leathery hide the color of obsidian, seemingly absorbing the faint green light of the forest. Their heads were sleek and reptilian, with rows of needle-sharp teeth visible even when their jaws were closed. But their most terrifying feature was their eyes—they were solid, milky white orbs that seemed to glow with a faint internal malevolence. They had no pupils, yet he felt their gaze lock onto him with an unnerving, predatory focus.

His mind, a desperate catalog of half-forgotten lore, supplied a name. Shadow-Claw Raptors. He remembered a single, terrifying line from an A-Rank bestiary he'd once skimmed: Pack hunters. Exceptionally fast. Can track prey by sensing bio-electrical fields. Avoid at all costs.

He was a walking, breathing beacon of bio-electricity, and he was cornered.

Panic, raw and primal, finally broke through his resolve. The cold logic of survival was overwhelmed by the lizard-brain instinct to simply get away. He didn't scream. He didn't make a sound. He just pushed off the cliff face and ran.

He bolted into the dense jungle, his only direction away from the immediate threat. The pain in his ribs was a blinding, white-hot fire with every ragged breath, but the adrenaline numbed the worst of it. Giant, alien tree roots, as thick as his body, erupted from the ground, forcing him to leap and scramble over them. Thorny vines whipped at his face and arms, tearing at his clothes and leaving stinging red welts on his skin. The damp, springy moss underfoot was treacherous, and he nearly twisted his ankle half a dozen times.

He didn't look back. He didn't dare. He could hear them, though. He could hear the heavy, thudding sound of their pursuit, the snapping of branches, and the occasional, sharp click-hiss that echoed through the trees. They were faster than him. Much faster. He was just a terrified morsel, trying to outrun a pair of living nightmares.

His lungs burned. His legs felt like lead. The initial burst of adrenaline was fading, leaving only a deep, bone-weary exhaustion and the return of his agonizing injuries. He stumbled, catching himself on the trunk of a massive tree, his breath coming in ragged, painful sobs. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to will more strength into his trembling limbs.

When he opened them, one of the raptors was there.

It stood twenty meters away, partially obscured by a curtain of hanging moss. It was unnervingly still, its head cocked, those milky white eyes fixed on him. It wasn't charging. It was herding him.

A sharp hiss from his right flank sent a fresh jolt of terror through him. The second raptor was there, cutting off his escape route. They had him bracketed. They were toying with him, enjoying the hunt, driving their exhausted, wounded prey into a kill zone of their own choosing.

There was nowhere left to run.

The defiance he'd felt earlier returned, this time born not of hope, but of pure, cornered-animal desperation. If he was going to die, he would not die running. He would die facing his end.

He turned, planting his feet as best he could on the uneven ground, and raised his iron sword. The simple blade trembled in his grip, looking like a child's toy against the backdrop of this monstrous world. The vambrace Su Wan had given him was a cold, solid weight on his forearm, a final, tangible reminder of a world he would never see again.

The first raptor let out a low, rumbling growl and began to advance, its movements a fluid, terrifying prowl. It was low to the ground, its powerful muscles coiling, ready to spring. Lin Yu's heart hammered a frantic, deafening rhythm against his broken ribs. He tried to remember the weak points of reptilian creatures from his books—the throat, the eyes, the joints. But this was not a picture in a book. This was a living engine of death, and he was a man with no skills, no power, and a body that was already failing him.

The creature exploded into motion. It wasn't a simple charge; it was a blur of black hide and gleaming claws, covering the twenty meters between them in a heartbeat. Lin Yu barely had time to react, bringing his sword up in a clumsy, desperate block.

The raptor didn't even try to bite him. It swiped with its massive forearm, a casual, contemptuous blow. The force of the impact was staggering. His iron sword, a thing he had been so proud to earn, met the creature's arm and the sound was not a clang of metal on bone, but a sickening, sharp CRACK.

The blade snapped in two, the upper half flying off into the gloom. The force of the blow traveled up his arm, shattering his wrist and sending a jolt of pure agony through his entire body. He cried out, stumbling backward, his now-useless hilt falling from his numb fingers.

He was disarmed. Defenseless.

He stared in horror at his ruined sword, then at the raptor. It paused, its head tilted, almost as if it were amused by the pathetic display of resistance. The second raptor emerged from the trees, its milky eyes glowing, and together, they began to close in, their pace slow and deliberate. They were savoring the final moments.

Lin Yu fell back, scrambling away on his hands and feet, his mind finally blank with the sheer, overwhelming certainty of his own death. He had failed. His vow to survive was just the meaningless bravado of a dying boy. This savage, indifferent world had judged him, found him wanting, and was now ready to devour him.

The lead raptor lunged, its massive jaws opening wide, revealing rows of glistening, needle-like teeth. The final image seared into his mind was not of Su Wan, not of his friends, but of this horrifying, monstrous maw descending to tear him apart. He closed his eyes, a single, silent tear of despair tracing a path through the grime on his cheek. The hunt was over.