Void

In the heart of a dark ruin, a silhouette stood still.

The figures were unmistakable—Scarlett Fox and Lancelot.

Her crimson hair danced gently in the wind, swaying like flames as she held Lancelot firmly, preventing his unconscious body from collapsing to the ground. The scene before them felt like something torn from the climax of a romantic movie… except the roles had been unexpectedly reversed.

Normally, it should have been Lancelot—the gallant hero—cradling Scarlett Fox by the waist in a protective embrace. But here she was, the one doing the holding.

Despite her seductive curves and delicate appearance, she supported his weight with ease. Her right hand slipped around his waist with practiced confidence, and her fingers traced slowly across his sharp jawline, like an artist admiring their sculpture.

Lancelot's eyes were wide open—he was alive and breathing—but they were empty, unfocused.

A sure sign of being trapped in an illusion.

Scarlett Fox was bold, startlingly so. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in her actions. She grinned as she gazed at his helpless expression.

"What a handsome man," she purred with amusement. "I wouldn't mind doing it with you… but I love money far more than I could ever love you. I just can't help it."

After a lingering moment, she carefully laid him down on the cold, cracked stone beneath them.

The thought of the reward made her heart pound with excitement.

'The reward is just too good. None of us could resist it. And now that I'm the one who caught you... I deserve the lion's share.' Her eyes gleamed with greed as she licked her lips.

'If only I could carry and protect you while fending off beasts on the way to the Draecia Empire Dome, I would've escaped alone and left the other bounty hunters to rot. Ugh, I still need them for now... but soon—I'll eliminate them one by one and keep every last reward for myself.'

She glanced down at Lancelot again.

'I honestly thought he'd resist the illusion. But he went with the flow so easily... how can someone so strong be so emotionally weak?'

Her mind raced with wicked ideas.

'Once I reach peak Three-Star, I'll have enough soul energy to observe his illusion directly. Then I'll play his mind like a harp. I'll turn his worst enemy into his dearest friend, and twist his most loyal companion into the sharpest dagger lodged in his heart. That… would be fun to watch.'

She grinned to herself. A dangerous grin.

'This illusion beast is my secret trump card. I can't let anything happen to it—no matter what!'

Scarlett squatted down beside him and stared.

The way she looked at Lancelot… there was something strange in her gaze. A mixture of obsession and fear. It was as though she thought he might vanish at any second.

Among the top Seven Hunters, Scarlett Fox was likely the weakest in raw power. But to emotionally unstable people like Lancelot—she was potentially the most dangerous opponent he could ever face.

She waited. Watched.

Expecting him to break through the illusion.

One hour passed.

Lancelot remained motionless, lost in the illusion.

The longer time dragged on, the less restless she became. She was growing confident now.

She could see it clearly—his emotions were his weakness.

He had been through a lot.

Betrayal from someone you love and trust… someone you would've risked your life for…

That sort of pain doesn't just disappear.

Even for a Souler—one of the strongest classes of superhumans—it could be crippling.

One hour, thirty minutes…

Still no change.

That's when Scarlett's sly expression melted into something more cheerful.

She stood up slightly straighter, brushing her hair behind her ear as five silhouettes approached from the distance.

At the front—Lone Wolf.

He had a rugged look, and a large backpack slung over his shoulder, contents unknown.

Scarlett waited for him to get close enough to hear her voice.

Then she pouted playfully and said in a teasing voice,

"Took you long enough…"

He didn't even acknowledge her. His sharp eyes landed on Lancelot's still body.

Tension flickered across his face. For a second, he thought Lancelot was dead.

He hurried forward and pressed two fingers beneath Lancelot's nose—then sighed in relief.

'What was I even thinking? A Peak Four-Star Souler like him wouldn't die so easily…'

With his initial fear gone, Lone Wolf's attention shifted. His gaze swept across the surrounding ruins.

Something felt off.

The place looked foreign, unfamiliar. The ground was scarred, the air smelled of scorched essence and spatial distortion.

The aftermath of Lancelot's battle with Void.

After studying the ruined terrain for a while, Lone Wolf's voice rang out—low, cold, and commanding.

"What happened here?"

The tone wasn't a question—it was a demand.

Scarlett Fox flinched.

Her throat felt dry.

She gulped nervously and replied in a soft voice,

"Lancelot… and Void… they fought here. This is the result of their clash."

"Hmm…"

Lone Wolf didn't respond further. He walked quietly toward a particular spot on the ground—where Void's Spatial Collapse had occurred.

Something had drawn his attention.

Scarlett frowned at the mysterious air he carried—so composed, so cryptic—it annoyed her.

As Lone Wolf got closer, he observed carefully.

The place was… wrong. The ground wasn't cracked or scorched—it was missing. A portion of reality had been erased. The empty air shimmered like broken glass.

A miniature void floated there—silent and cold.

He circled it once. Twice.

Then, without warning, he extended his hand… and plunged it into the void.

A grunt escaped his lips.

His expression twisted in pain. He yanked his arm back immediately, clenching his jaw.

'It's cold… incredibly cold. My natural resistance has no effect against it…'

Blood ran down his wrist.

'This… this has to be tied to yin and yang theory. It's not just elemental cold. It's something deeper. Something… universal.'

He stared at his bloodied hand.

Skin once pale and flawless… now bruised and torn.