The Real Hunt Begins

The ground trembled beneath Zhao Feng's feet. A deep, guttural rumble resonated through the ancient ruins, shaking loose fragments of stone from the cracked walls. Dust filled the air, choking his lungs as he sprinted down the narrow corridor.

Something had awoken.

He didn't need to turn back to know that the presence behind him was growing.

The shard had fractured.

He had broken a seal.

And now, the Hunger—whatever it truly was—was no longer just a distant threat. It was here.

Zhao Feng's mind raced as he moved.

"I have to get out."

The exit was close, but the mountain itself felt like it was closing in on him. The once-stable passages now twisted, warped—as if the ruins themselves were being consumed by the force he had unleashed.

A deep vibration ran through the stone beneath him, and suddenly—

The corridor collapsed.

Zhao Feng barely managed to leap forward as a wave of stone crashed down behind him. He landed in a roll, wincing as sharp debris scraped against his arms, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

A pulse of black energy surged from deeper within the ruins, racing up the walls like ink spilled into water. The eerie inscriptions along the stone—once dormant—flickered violently, then shattered.

The ancient magic that had bound this place for centuries was gone.

And something was stepping into reality.

Zhao Feng reached an intersection, his breath sharp. He had come through this path before—left led to the surface.

He turned—

And froze.

The passage was gone.

No. Not gone. Replaced.

The stone walls had shifted, melted, reshaped. What had once been a clear tunnel leading out was now a jagged, pulsing corridor of darkened flesh-like material.

It breathed.

Zhao Feng's grip on Void Edge tightened. Every part of his instincts screamed at him to turn and run—

But behind him, the shadows thickened.

Something was there.

He could feel it.

Not just watching. Encroaching.

A slow, creeping presence that exuded no sound, no movement—just an undeniable certainty that it was getting closer.

Trapped.

Zhao Feng gritted his teeth.

"No choice."

He turned and plunged into the flesh corridor.

The moment he stepped inside, the walls contracted.

The air was dense, suffocating. Every step forward felt like wading through something unseen.

He could hear whispers.

Not from outside.

From within.

The walls themselves murmured, shuddered, sighed.

The deeper he went, the more wrong it became.

This wasn't just a path.

It was alive.

And it was leading him somewhere.

Zhao Feng moved swiftly, refusing to acknowledge the way the tunnel seemed to tighten around him, as if sensing his presence.

Then—

The whispering stopped.

The tunnel abruptly opened.

A vast chamber stretched before him.

And in the center—

A monolith.

Black. Obsidian. Towering.

Veins of crimson energy pulsed through its surface, as if it were breathing.

Zhao Feng stepped forward cautiously. His instincts screamed that this was the source. The heart of whatever had been sealed away.

His gaze locked onto the figure standing before it.

Not the shadow from before.

Something else.

Its form was indistinct, like it was shifting between human and something far worse.

And when it turned—

Zhao Feng felt his pulse stop.

It had no face.

Just a void, endless and hollow, stretching where its features should be.

Yet he knew.

It was looking directly at him.

The air rippled.

And then, in a voice that did not belong to this world—

It spoke.

"You came too soon."

Zhao Feng's breath was steady, but his grip on Void Edge tightened.

The thing took a slow step forward.

"The seal is broken."

Another step.

"And you—"

The air shattered as it moved.

Zhao Feng barely had time to react before a wave of pressure slammed into him.

He skidded back, bracing against the force, his entire body screaming in protest.

"Are unprepared."

It was fast. Unnaturally fast.

Zhao Feng barely caught the next movement—a blur of shifting darkness lunging for him.

Instinct took over.

His blade clashed against an unseen force, the impact sending a shockwave through the chamber. The ground splintered beneath him, cracks racing out in all directions.

But it didn't stop.

A second strike came from nowhere.

Then a third.

Each one was precise. Relentless. Calculated.

Zhao Feng fought back with everything he had, but every exchange made it clearer—

He was outmatched.

The figure wasn't just stronger.

It was playing with him.

Testing him.

Much like the shadow from before.

But this time—

It wasn't amused.

Zhao Feng's mind raced. He couldn't win like this. His body was fast, but not fast enough. His attacks were sharp, but not sharp enough.

There was only one chance.

He needed to break the flow.

As the next strike came, he didn't block.

He dodged.

Barely—just enough to let the force of the attack graze past him.

And in that instant—

He moved.

Lightning Qi erupted from his body, momentarily distorting the space around him. He twisted his blade, angling it not for a direct strike—

But for a piercing counter.

A flash of silver.

A heartbeat.

Contact.

The tip of Void Edge drove into the figure's shifting form.

For a brief moment—it halted.

And then—

The world fractured.

Zhao Feng felt an explosion of force tear through the chamber as the entity unleashed its presence in full.

The impact sent him flying, slamming him against the far wall.

Stone cracked.

His vision blurred.

Everything tilted.

He forced himself to focus, to regain his breath—

But when he looked up—

The figure was gone.

Only the monolith remained.

But something was different.

The once-dormant veins of crimson energy now burned.

The pulse had changed.

The Hunger was no longer just stirring.

It was awake.

Zhao Feng exhaled, his body aching, his mind racing.

He had come seeking answers.

Instead—

He had just accelerated the end of everything.

Zhao Feng's breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as he pulled himself from the fractured stone. His body ached, but the pain was secondary. His focus remained locked on the monolith.

The crimson veins that had once pulsed faintly now burned with a raw, unrestrained hunger. The chamber itself felt different. The weight of some unseen force pressed against him, thickening the air, making every movement feel heavier.

Zhao Feng's instincts screamed at him to move.

To run.

But he had learned something crucial in the fight.

The entity had not destroyed him.

It had tested him, measured him, and then—vanished.

And the monolith had changed.

Something had shifted.

That meant there was something here, something the entity wanted—or feared.

His grip on Void Edge tightened as he took a slow step forward. His Qi swirled beneath his skin, ready to explode into motion at the first sign of danger.

But nothing struck.

No shadowed figure, no unseen force pressing against him.

Only the monolith, looming like a silent god.

Zhao Feng circled it, studying its structure. Up close, the black surface wasn't just smooth—it was alive. The crimson veins twisted and pulsed beneath the surface, shifting like they were reacting to him.

Then—a whisper.

Not from around him.

From within the monolith itself.

Zhao Feng stilled.

The whisper was faint, barely more than a breath carried through the air, but it reached directly into his mind.

"Who… are you?"

Zhao Feng's pulse slowed.

It wasn't a trick of the ruins. It wasn't an illusion. Something inside the monolith had spoken to him.

He stepped closer.

The air thickened.

His instincts screamed at him to stop.

He didn't.

"Zhao Feng." His voice was steady. Unyielding.

The whisper did not immediately respond.

Instead, the crimson veins shifted—and the monolith's surface rippled.

Then—

"You… are not… him."

Zhao Feng frowned.

"Who?"

The whisper was strained, as if the voice behind it had forgotten how to speak.

"The one… who sealed us."

Zhao Feng's fingers twitched at his side.

Us.

Not one. Many.

The monolith wasn't just some remnant of an ancient power—it was a prison.

And it had been opened.

"What was sealed here?" Zhao Feng demanded.

A pause.

Then—

"A hunger… that has no end."

Zhao Feng's stomach turned. The phrase was too close to what the Herald had said before.

The Hunger.

It wasn't just a force.

It was alive.

And worse—it had been contained for a reason.

"Then why am I still alive?" Zhao Feng asked.

He had seen firsthand how overwhelming the force in this place was. The Herald could have killed him at any moment. The entity he had fought was beyond his current strength.

So why was he still breathing?

The monolith's surface rippled again.

"Because… you are not yet… ready."

A chill ran down Zhao Feng's spine.

"Ready for what?"

There was a long silence.

Then—

The monolith cracked.

The air boiled with raw energy as the surface split open, deep fractures racing through the obsidian.

And from within—

Something stirred.

A hand.

Not human. Not monstrous. Something in-between.

It reached outward, fingers too long, skin shifting like liquid shadow.

Zhao Feng moved.

His body reacted before his mind fully processed the threat. His blade flashed, Qi erupting along its edge as he slashed toward the emerging figure.

The moment Void Edge struck the monolith's surface—

The world shattered.

A pulse of energy detonated from the impact, a force so powerful that Zhao Feng was sent flying backward. He hit the far wall, stone cracking beneath his weight, his vision flashing white.

The chamber collapsed inward.

The monolith, the figure—everything vanished.

And then—

Silence.

Zhao Feng's vision blurred as he struggled to push himself up. His body screamed in protest, but he forced himself to stand.

The chamber was gone.

He wasn't in the ruins anymore.

The air had changed.

It was cold.

And when his vision cleared—

He saw the sky.

A sky that wasn't real.

It stretched endlessly above him, but there were no stars, no sun. Only a vast, shifting void of dark red clouds.

The ground beneath him was ash.

A wasteland.

A place that should not exist.

Zhao Feng's pulse quickened.

The monolith had been a gate.

And now—

He had crossed it.

Then, behind him—

A voice.

"You came through."

Zhao Feng turned.

And what he saw—

Should have been impossible.

A figure stood in the distance, barely visible through the swirling ash.

Not the Herald.

Not the faceless entity.

Something else.

Something he recognized.

But it was wrong.

Twisted.

Distorted.

Its features mirrored his own.

And when it spoke again, its voice was both his—and something far older.

"Now the real hunt begins."