The Hunt Begins

Kyle stood at the edge of the ruined city, his chest rising and falling in steady but measured breaths. His grip on the Fallen King's Blade remained firm, the weight of the weapon grounding him, but the adrenaline still pulsed through his veins like a warning that hadn't faded yet. The Watcher in the Ash had let them go—or maybe it had never intended to strike them down in the first place. Either way, its presence had been more than just an enemy encounter.

It had been a message.

The Land had seen him now. Whatever role he was playing in this grand, brutal game had shifted the moment he survived the Trial of the Marked. He wasn't just surviving anymore. He was something else. Something more.

Rin finally caught their breath beside him, still crouched on one knee. The goblin child's wide green eyes flicked toward him, then back to the ruins they had just escaped.

"That thing," they muttered, voice tight with something Kyle suspected was fear, though Rin masked it well. "It wasn't just a monster, was it?"

Kyle let out a slow breath. "No."

Rin wiped a streak of ash from their cheek, their small fingers twitching with barely contained nerves. "So what was it?"

Kyle didn't have an answer. He could still feel the Watcher, even though it was no longer physically present. It hadn't just been some mindless guardian. It had spoken to him, acknowledged him, marked him in some way. And now, it was watching.

"It's part of this," he finally said, gesturing vaguely toward the land around them. "It knows more than we do."

Rin scowled, clearly unhappy with that answer, but they didn't press the issue. Instead, they stood and brushed off their tattered cloak. "Well, I don't plan on going back in there. So what now?"

Kyle glanced down at the blade in his hand. The system had still locked its abilities, meaning there was something he needed to do before he could wield its full power. The throne, the Watcher, the trial—it had all been steps toward something, but he had yet to reach the destination.

And now, he had the feeling he wasn't the only one moving toward it.

The air felt different now. There was an energy shifting in the distance, a pulse in the very bones of The Land, something stirring that hadn't before. It wasn't just the Watcher.

Something else had noticed him.

The system pulsed in his vision.

---

New World State Activated: The Hunt Begins.

The ascension of the Warborn has drawn the attention of unseen forces. The Land does not allow power to go unchallenged.

Factions have taken notice. Some will seek to control you. Others will seek to kill you. The Hunt has begun.

Survive. Adapt. Conquer.

---

Kyle's blood ran cold. The Hunt.

It wasn't just one enemy anymore. It was all of them.

His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, his stance shifting automatically into something more defensive. The system didn't make casual updates. If The Hunt had truly begun, it meant they were already being watched.

Rin must have noticed the shift in his expression because they took a step back, shoulders tensing. "What is it?"

Kyle's eyes flickered across the ruined city, scanning the distant streets, the jagged silhouettes of buildings barely holding together. There was no movement. No obvious sign of an attack. But the feeling was there.

"They're coming."

Rin's expression hardened. "Who?"

Kyle exhaled. "I don't know yet."

The wind picked up, swirling dust and ash through the air. It carried a scent that Kyle recognized immediately.

Blood.

He turned sharply toward the northern part of the ruins, where the walls had crumbled into a natural choke point. Beyond that was open terrain, leading toward what looked like an old trade road. The scent was coming from there.

They weren't alone.

"Stay close," Kyle ordered, moving quickly toward the edge of the rubble. He crouched low, Rin following suit without protest, and they slipped between two broken columns for cover.

Kyle's eyes narrowed.

At the far edge of the ruins, where the trade road should have led toward the mountains in the distance, figures were approaching.

They moved in formation, quick and controlled, their bodies covered in mismatched armor, weapons drawn at their sides. They weren't Revenants. They weren't part of the Watcher's game.

They were alive.

And they were hunting.

The system pulsed again.

---

New Enemy Identified: Mercenaries of the Crimson Vow.

Threat Level: Variable.

Hired killers with no allegiance to any kingdom or faction. They follow only coin and blood. Their current contract: You.

---

Kyle inhaled slowly, steadying his mind.

So it had already started.

The Hunt wasn't just some distant event waiting to unfold. It was already here.

Rin shifted beside him, voice low. "We fighting or running?"

Kyle's grip on the Fallen King's Blade tightened. His body still ached, his wounds barely sealed, and his blade was still locked. A smart man would retreat, find a place to recover, prepare for the next attack.

But Kyle wasn't in the mood to run.

His entire existence in The Land had been spent running—from monsters, from trials, from things he hadn't understood. But now?

He had survived the First Marked. He had claimed a weapon that had been waiting for centuries.

He wasn't about to run from a group of mercenaries.

Kyle exhaled, rolling his shoulders, testing his balance. "We take them."

Rin blinked. "You sure about that?"

Kyle's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"They're here for me," he muttered. "Might as well introduce myself properly."

The mercenaries were getting closer now, their steps calculated, their eyes scanning the ruins. They weren't ordinary bandits—their gear was too well-maintained, their movements too disciplined.

Kyle's instincts told him they weren't here for a simple bounty. Someone had sent them.

He let out a slow breath, steadying his mind. The Hunt had begun, and it wasn't stopping anytime soon.

This was his first real test outside of the Trial. No system-imposed battle. No controlled challenge. This was war.