The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character-Chapter 126 - 128
My eyes widened, and I froze for a split second, dread clawing at my chest. Memories of past battles, of narrow escapes, surged to the surface. My instincts screamed at me to dodge, but it was too late.
"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, gritting my teeth.
I quickly assessed my options. If I dodged, Edwin might be hit. If I stopped moving, our plan would fall apart. I had only one choice.
I have to cut through. There's no other way.
Strengthened by my resolve, my blade began to glow with purplish flames, dark and menacing. My vision narrowed, the world around me slowing to a crawl. The chaos faded into nothingness, leaving only the attacks and my blade.
In that moment of clarity, I raised my weapon and slashed.
CRUNG!
An arc of dark purple energy tore through the air, slicing through the arrows with a deafening roar. The remnants of the flames dissipated as I charged forward, ignoring the burning pain in my legs.
Mareti's face twisted in shock as he watched me cut through his spell. He raised his hands to cast another, but I didn't give him the chance. I leapt into the air, my blade poised to strike.
He muttered frantically, deploying another Bone Sphere, but I struck it with all my might. Sparks flew as my blade clashed with the barrier.
In the next instant, Mareti began chanting again, summoning Bone Spear, which shot toward me at blinding speed. I barely had time to react, but as it struck my shoulder, tearing through flesh, I didn't falter.
"Kurgh!" I groaned in pain, the agony almost overwhelming. But instead of retreating, I pushed forward, tearing the spear out as I advanced.
Mareti's face paled as I grabbed him by the collar, blood dripping from my wounds. He flailed, trying to cast another spell, but before he could, a glowing blade pierced through his back.
Edwin's voice, cold and mocking, rang out behind him. "Fool. Did you forget who was at your back?"
Mareti coughed blood, but instead of despair, he laughed. "It's you who's the fool, idiot."
Before my eyes, his body burned away, disintegrating into a shadow. He reappeared ten meters to the right, his expression triumphant.
But then, his confidence shattered. His body froze, goosebumps crawling across his skin. He turned slowly, terror etched into his face, as Edwin appeared behind him in a flicker of lightning.
The air grew heavy, the atmosphere charged with an electric hum. Mareti desperately activated every defensive spell he had—Bone Armor, Shadow Cloak, and Dark Veil—but none of it mattered.
Edwin's voice cut through the tension, cold and final. "It won't work."
A glowing rune appeared beneath Edwin's feet as he began to chant a ritual. The air around him shimmered, and a colossal spirit figure materialized behind him, its body forming a constellation of stars. The figure held a massive sword, which it passed to Edwin before fading into the ether.
Lightning surged into Edwin's blade, making it glow blindingly bright. With one final movement, he slashed the air.
The arc of lightning that followed wasn't just an attack—it was destruction incarnate. It tore through everything in its path, obliterating Mareti's barriers and spells with ease. The battlefield erupted into chaos as the energy consumed everything, leaving nothing but scorched earth in its wake.
Mareti's scream was drowned out by the roar of the lightning. When the light faded, only silence remained.
…..
I collapsed to the ground, my body aching and trembling. My stamina had always been less than others, and this fight had drained everything I had. Edwin stood a short distance away, staring at what was left of Mareti. His torso had been torn apart, leaving only ashes floating in the air.
Edwin kicked at the remains like they offended him, then raised his sword. He began chanting something under his breath, and with a single swing, a bolt of lightning struck the body.
BOOM!
The ground shook, leaving a small crater where Mareti's remains had been. The air was thick with the smell of burnt flesh. Edwin glanced at me, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.
"One needs to be careful," he said, almost like he was teaching a lesson. "If you want to finish the job, burn it until there's nothing left. Not even ashes."
I didn't respond immediately, just stared at him blankly. My mind felt numb, my body even more so. Edwin looked at me again, blinking a few times as if he was trying to figure something out. Then, without waiting for my reply, he turned back to the charred remains and struck down again.
Lightning struck repeatedly until there was nothing left—not even dust. A gust of wind carried away the ashes, and the place was finally silent.
Edwin walked toward me, but his steps faltered when he saw what I was doing. I was pulling the bone spear out of my shoulder, my teeth gritted, my hands steady despite the searing pain. I must have looked hideous, but I didn't care. Not a single scream escaped me as the spear finally came free, leaving a gash behind. I started tending to the wound myself, tying a piece of cloth around it to stop the bleeding.
"You could use a potion," Edwin said, his tone flat but with a hint of curiosity.
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"Why waste a potion when I can get treated later?" I replied, shrugging off the suggestion.
Edwin raised an eyebrow, looking faintly baffled. "Hmm."
For a moment, silence hung between us, but I could feel him watching me closely. Gathering my strength, I looked up at him, meeting his sharp, emotionless gaze.
"Why did you hold back?" I asked.
His eyes narrowed, turning dangerously cold. The weight of his stare was suffocating, but I held firm.
"You know what I mean," I added. "If you went all out, you could've defeated him easily."
For a moment, I thought he'd lash out. His eyes were sharp enough to cut through steel, but then, just as suddenly, the tension eased.
"You're suspicious," he said, his voice calm but dismissive. "Why would I show all my cards here?"
Without another word, Edwin turned to leave. He stopped after a few steps and looked over his shoulder.
"With this, we're even. I don't owe you anything anymore."
And then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows like he was never there. I was left sitting on the cold, blood-soaked ground, the stench of death clinging to the air.
I closed my eyes, trying to center myself, but all I could feel was the sensation of countless hands—phantoms from my past kills. They clawed at me, whispered to me, their cold fingers brushing against my skin. Yet, this time, they felt different. They felt… grateful. Thanking me.
Until now, I hadn't killed many. But every time I took a life, I felt like I was cleansing the world of filth. These weren't just kills; they were necessary acts to rid the world of the darkness that poisoned it.
Death wasn't just an end. For the virtuous, it was a friend—a companion to guide them into the next journey. For the wicked, it was a predator, tearing them from the world they'd tainted.
As I sat there, these thoughts solidified in my mind, taking root like seeds in fertile soil.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in my head.
[Thank you.]
I opened my eyes, startled. The voice was soft yet powerful, resonating with warmth.
[You've resolved the hatred of many. They can now leave this world in peace.]
"What about Mareti's soul?" I asked, my voice low but steady.
[Do not concern yourself with him. Leave the spirits to their own.]
"I see," I murmured.
Before I could process the conversation, a warmth flooded through me, spreading from my chest outward. It was comforting but overwhelming, like standing in the sun after years of darkness.
"What... what's happening?" I asked.
[It's my blessing,] the voice replied. [The blessing of the Mother Forest. From now on, animals of the forest will be friendly to you. The forests will welcome you as their own.]
The voice faded, leaving me stunned. But the surprises weren't over. Another notification rang in my mind.
[Novice Hunter Level 10 Shadow Stalker.]
I stared at the air in front of me, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. My journey wasn't over. If anything, it was just beginning.
Away from the chaos and blood-soaked ground, a man stood atop a massive tree. His back rested lazily against the trunk, his sharp gaze fixed on the purple-haired boy who was sitting alone, visibly worn out. The boy slowly rose to his feet, his movements unsteady but determined, and disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
The man took a long drag from the cigar pinched between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dim light. As he exhaled, a thin trail of smoke curled into the starless sky, illuminated only by the eerie glow of a crescent crimson moon.
He muttered to himself, his voice low and raspy.
"Eight for planning. Six for the fight."
He paused, tapping the ash from the cigar, a contemplative look in his otherwise stoic eyes.
"A risky endeavor, but... ten out of ten for perfect execution."
For a moment, silence lingered. Then, slowly, a grin began to creep across his face—a grin that felt out of place. His lips curled upward unnaturally, stretching wider than they should, revealing teeth that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. Despite the unsettling smile, his eyes remained cold, devoid of emotion, his face like a porcelain mask hiding something far darker within.
"Finally," he murmured, his voice carrying a strange mix of satisfaction and menace. "A suitable one."
A low, guttural laugh bubbled up from his throat, unnatural and broken.
"Kukkkk!"
Around him, the forest came alive with an unsettling chorus. Wolves howled in the distance, and night creatures scurried and screeched, their sounds sharp and jarring. The man tilted his head, glancing up at the treetops as though addressing the darkness itself.
"It seems even these foul beasts agree," he said, his tone amused yet chilling. Then his grin faded, replaced by an expressionless, blank stare.
"But..." he added, his voice growing softer, almost like a whisper carried by the wind. "Only time will tell the next tale."
And with that, the man flicked the cigar away and melted into the shadows, leaving the night to its eerie symphony.