Chapter 9: The Hunter’s Instinct

The air was suffocating. The labyrinth stretched endlessly in all directions, its walls slick with condensation, the dim blue torches flickering like dying stars. Every breath Asher took felt thick with something unseen, something watching.

The corpses of fallen hunters lay scattered across the stone floor, their bodies twisted unnaturally, their blood still warm. Whatever had killed them wasn't mindless. It had hunted them, toyed with them.

Asher crouched beside one of the bodies, pressing two fingers against the torn fabric near the man's ribs. The wounds were too clean, the muscle too precisely cut. This wasn't the work of the beast he had just killed. It wasn't a wild animal.

Something else was in this labyrinth.

A deep growl rumbled through the corridors.

Asher stood, adjusting his grip on his sword. His shadow flickered unnaturally at his feet, alive, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He could feel it now, more than before not just a power, not just a tool. A presence.

The whisper returned, softer this time.

"The strong devour the weak. Will you devour them?"

His fingers twitched. The voice wasn't from the tower's system. It wasn't a god. It was something else.

A noise snapped his focus back to reality. The sound of claws scraping against stone. The slow, measured pace of a predator stalking its prey.

Asher exhaled slowly, stepping backward, pressing himself into the shadows along the wall. He controlled his breathing, lowering his presence.

The beast emerged from the darkness.

It was larger than the first one. Its body was covered in obsidian-black fur, its muscles rippling beneath its skin. Its eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, its pupils narrow, intelligent. Saliva dripped from its elongated fangs, sizzling as it hit the stone floor.

It sniffed the air.

Then it stopped.

It turned its head directly toward Asher.

It knew.

He didn't hesitate.

The moment the beast lunged, Asher moved.

His body twisted, narrowly avoiding the snap of its jaws. His blade flashed, carving into the beast's ribs. The creature howled, its blood spraying against the walls.

Asher expected it to retreat. Instead, it laughed.

A deep, guttural, human-like chuckle.

The beast grinned.

A second set of eyes opened on its forehead.

Then, it spoke.

"You are not like the others."

Asher's grip tightened. The voice was wrong. Layered, distorted, like a thousand voices speaking in unison. This wasn't a mindless monster.

The beast straightened, rising onto its hind legs, its limbs shifting, twisting, cracking. Its claws elongated, its body stretching into something humanoid.

A shapeshifter.

A true hunter.

The beast's grin widened, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

"I wonder…" It tilted its head. "How will you taste?"

It vanished.

No sound. No movement. No warning.

Asher's instincts screamed, and he barely had time to pivot before claws ripped through the space where his throat had been.

Too fast.

He stepped back, sword raised, but the beast was gone again.

Not teleportation.

It was using the shadows.

For the first time, Asher felt something stir inside him something primal, something hungry.

If it could use the shadows then so could he.

He closed his eyes.

The world shifted.

He could see the movement in the darkness, feel the vibration in the air.

The moment the beast reappeared, lunging for him, Asher moved before it did.

His own shadow surged.

A dark tendril lashed out, grabbing the beast mid-attack.

Its eyes widened in shock.

Asher's blade sank into its throat.

The creature gurgled, choking on its own blood. Its body convulsed, trying to shift, to escape but Asher didn't let go.

The shadow tightened.

The beast's yellow eyes flickered, its form collapsing, melting into a pool of writhing black tendrils. Its body wasn't just flesh. It was something else.

The whisper in Asher's mind returned.

"Devour it."

His hand trembled.

Something inside him something dark wanted to.

The beast's body collapsed entirely into shadow, its physical form disintegrating. It left behind nothing but a single, pulsing black crystal.

Asher stared at it.

This wasn't a normal monster drop.

This was something else.

His fingers hovered over the crystal, and the moment he touched it the tower reacted.

A deep, reverberating chime rang through the labyrinth. The walls shook.

Then, a message appeared.

[The Gods have taken notice of you.]

A second notification.

[A Demon has marked you as a candidate.]

Asher's vision blurred.

For a brief moment, he wasn't in the labyrinth anymore.

He was somewhere else.

A place filled with floating thrones, each occupied by figures he couldn't comprehend. Some were wrapped in golden light, others cloaked in abyssal darkness.

The gods.

The demons.

They were watching.

And they were waiting.

Then it was gone.

Asher stumbled forward, his breath ragged, the weight of something unseen pressing against his skull. The black crystal in his palm vanished, dissolving into his skin.

His shadow pulsed.

Something had changed.

His fingers curled into a fist.

He wasn't just climbing this tower for answers anymore.

He was climbing it to burn everything they built to the ground.

The gods and demons wanted to play a game.

Fine.

But they would learn something soon enough.

They weren't the ones pulling the strings anymore.

He was.

And he would make them regret ever noticing him.