SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 132: Hunt

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Chapter 132: Hunt

After undergoing multiple evolutions, Shadow Perch had become nothing less than a top-tier assassination technique. With it, Ricky could dissolve his form into the ambient shadows—becoming a ripple in darkness, a whisper in the gloom. In this state, he was virtually undetectable; unless every shadow was completely erased, no one could drag him out.

And in a forest like this, where canopies swallowed sunlight and shadows stretched endlessly?

Catching Ricky was close to impossible.

Not just the Crimson-Eyed Princess—even Ricky’s allies were taken aback by his disappearance. Darius in particular, who still quietly harbored dreams of escaping servitude, narrowed his eyes in hidden frustration.

Understanding each and every one of Ricky’s abilities had become his topmost priority.

He couldn’t fight what he didn’t understand.

Meanwhile, the crimson-eyed undead Princess stood still, her crimson gaze sweeping the forest like a predator uncertain of where the scent had gone. Her eyes darted from one patch of darkness to another—piercing, focused, but ultimately unaware.

Though perceptive, she was a heartbeat too slow.

Ricky had long since abandoned the tree she was staring at. In fact, he was right beneath her.

So close, she wouldn’t even be able to scream.

From the very shadow she cast, the darkness began to churn unnaturally. Her silhouette twisted, morphed—and from within it, like a phantom dagger, a glinting proboscis pierced forth, dripping with the blood of countless creatures both noble and vile.

"Time to taste some undead blood," Ricky thought, eyes gleaming with icy resolve.

But just as the tip drew close to her exposed flank—her eyes snapped wide open, pupils contracting into pinpricks.

She had sensed him.

There was no moment of hesitation. Her response was immediate, instinctual—a single cold command slipped from her lips like frost over steel.

"Crimson Tempest."

Her voice echoed with unnatural resonance, as if drawn from the depths of some ancient mausoleum.

And then—she erupted.

In an instant, her body ignited in a swirling vortex of crimson light, an aura so dense and volatile it felt like a storm of molten blood had descended upon the earth. The glow bled into every crevice, chasing the darkness from every leaf, every shadowed trunk, every hidden root.

A radiant inferno of spectral energy pushed outward in a roaring pulse, like a sun being born mid-battlefield.

Hundreds of meters around her were flooded with blinding light, and the shadows disintegrated, screaming in agony as they were burned out of existence.

"There is no stopping me!" she roared, her voice a beautiful, terrifying declaration of dominance.

Within the core of the light, the air trembled from the sheer weight of her spiritual force—burning, oppressive, suffocating. Even Ricky, safely retreating into deeper shadows beyond the blast zone, felt the heat chase him, licking at the edges of his concealment like the breath of a star.

He clicked his mandibles once, impressed.

"This one’s dangerous..."

But it was too late to back down now.

The hunter had tasted prey—and the predator had shown her fangs.

Ricky roared, his voice carrying a chilling edge like steel dragged across stone. A cold glint flashed in his compound eyes.

So close... if I fail now, I might as well give up cultivation and grow flowers instead.

The next instant, his spiritual field erupted, crashing down like a divine serpent coiled around its prey. The immense force curled and constricted around the crimson-eyed Princess, wrapping her in an invisible vise of pressure.

Following this, the Holy Sword manifested—a blade of radiant power formed from concentrated will and divine force. Its gleam was blinding, exuding both judgment and slaughter.

Even with his spiritual force exceeding thirty, activating so many high-tier skills in tandem caused bells to ring violently in Ricky’s skull. Veins bulged slightly on his temple; his body screamed for restraint.

He ignored it.

"Shut up and do your job," he spat internally, eyes locked on his target.

With unwavering intent, he thrust the Holy Sword toward her back like a divine executioner delivering a fatal decree.

But the crimson-eyed Princess was no amateur. This was a creature raised in battle, forged in unending conflict. Reacting to unexpected danger wasn’t instinct—it was muscle memory. The very air shimmered around her as her spiritual field began to shift, twisting like a cocoon trying to repulse the sword’s judgment.

Ricky sensed the change, but his focus remained razor-sharp.

No. You die here. Today.

He didn’t hesitate. If she was fast, he was faster.

As the Holy Sword stabbed toward her spine, his proboscis gleamed, long and sharp—like a silver spear aimed squarely at her snow-white throat.

Two blades. Two directions. One inevitable end.

But just as the Holy Sword was about to pierce her—

Something shifted.

A crackle of unnatural heat surged from her body.

Flame Transformation!

From her collarbone downward, her entire body combusted into living flame—a woman of fire, crackling, writhing with heat so intense it distorted space.

What?! Ricky’s thoughts halted for a moment.

The Holy Sword, meant to pierce flesh and soul, instead passed through harmlessly, cutting through the flame as if it were smoke. No blood. No resistance.

What kind of ability is this?! he demanded inwardly, stunned—but only for a moment.

Because he noticed something. A detail. A flaw.

Her transformation wasn’t perfect.

Her head... remained intact.

Still porcelain-white skin. Still the familiar face, burning with madness and fury.

It looked—horrifyingly surreal, like a human woman being burned alive while the rest of her body had already become something else.

There it is. That’s the opening.

His hesitation vanished like mist in the sun.

This was his only chance to end her.

Ricky knew it—felt it—like a blade pressed to his throat. If the battle dragged on even a second longer, more variables would enter the field. And in a war zone like this, variables were fatal.

Without hesitation, the crystalline wings on his back flared outward. With a sharp flutter, they launched him forward like a missile, closing the distance in a blink.

"Die!"

His voice echoed like the decree of death itself.

The proboscis, already sharp and deadly, now pulsed with sinister dark energy, thickened by concentrated darkness mana. The air warped around it, as if unwilling to touch its malevolence.

Then—impact.

The sensation as he struck her neck was like piercing tempered steel, cold and unyielding—until, suddenly, it gave way.

Like a hot knife through butter, the proboscis slid deep into her flesh.

In the next moment, a cascade of notifications rang in his mind.

[+110 days of Lifespan absorbed.]

[+213 days of Lifespan absorbed.]

[+156 days of Lifespan absorbed.]

Her stolen lifespan flooded into him like a deluge, coursing through his veins like molten energy.

But even impaled, the Crimson-Eyed Princess didn’t go down quietly.

Her body erupted in crimson fury, and flames exploded in every direction—blinding, white-hot gouts of fire shot out in erratic, violent bursts. Each movement was desperate, wrathful, and devastatingly wild.

Flaming pillars lanced skyward, splitting the forest canopy. Several ancient trees, green and proud for centuries, ignited like dry parchment.

But it was too late.

Though her fire resisted the toxins coursing through her undead veins, the lifespan drain was relentless.

Her strikes slowed. Her shrieks quieted. Her majestic figure began to shrink, like a goddess collapsing into a corpse.

Minute by minute, her vitality evaporated.

Until finally—

A sharp crack echoed as her body turned into a dried husk, eyes dull, flames extinguished. Only silence remained.

Ricky exhaled, his body trembling slightly—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer spiritual pressure he’d just endured.

And just as he began to retract his proboscis—

A jolt.

An unfamiliar surge shot up through the connection. Memories. Thoughts. Flashes of her life—invading his mind like a river bursting through a broken dam.

His spiritual force had increased enough to handle the flood, and so he didn’t resist.

Visions unfolded.

Other undead Princesses. Leading the charge. Organizing, commanding.

He saw their faces. Felt their presence.

No. 35. No. 32... and then—

No. 29.

His breath hitched.

So there’s more coming. And they’re not just strong—they’re organized.

His expression darkened.

Three other Princes... Each one unquestionably more powerful than the Crimson-Eyed Princess.

Ricky’s expression turned grim.

"I have to find them—and eliminate them—before they can act."

Without the surge of memories, locating these Princes would’ve been nearly impossible. Their spiritual signatures were buried deep, cloaked in layers of necrotic camouflage, concealed even from the keenest perception.

But now...

A cold smile played at the edge of Ricky’s mandibles.

"Let’s see..." he whispered to the wind, eyes glowing with eerie light.

"Is your hiding ability better... or is my tracking ability stronger?"

The hunt had begun.

And Ricky would not stop until every last one of them was extinguished.

Then, without even sparing them a second glance, Ricky turned toward Darius and Felicia. His voice was calm—too calm, carrying the cold detachment of someone who no longer saw the battlefield as a challenge.

"You two handle the ones that slipped through. I’ll take care of the rest."

He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t need to.

The very next moment, his form blurred—turning into an arrow of pure, condensed darkness—and vanished into the horizon with a thunderous sonic boom, leaving behind only a trail of fading shadow in the sky.

Felicia and Darius stood rooted for a moment, the oppressive silence that followed making the inferno of war around them feel oddly distant.

They both knew what that tone meant.

The Venom Fang Overlord had entered the hunt.

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