The soldiers hesitated.
Their fear was tangible now.
Lucian felt it.
He thrived on it.
More men poured in.
Too many.
Lucian’s body wasn’t invincible—not yet.
His wounds were real. His energy was draining.
He had to think.
He had to hunt.
Lucian darted into the trees, his silhouette vanishing into the darkness.
The soldiers hesitated.
Where did he go?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The commander barked an order. “Find him! Now!”
They advanced, torches raised, eyes scanning the shadows.
CRACK!
A scream tore through the night.
A soldier stepped on a hidden tripwire—a branch whipped forward, impaling him straight through the throat.
More traps followed.
Hidden pitfalls. Loosened stones. Thinly veiled spikes.
The soldiers panicked.
They were the hunters.
Why did it feel like they were the prey?
Lucian waited. Watched.
He let them think they were safe.
Then—
He struck.
A sword flashed from the darkness, severing a man’s leg before he even saw it coming.
Another fell, his body yanked into the shadows—his screams cut off abruptly.
The soldiers turned, swords raised, breath ragged.
Lucian was nowhere.
Then—
He was behind them.
His blade sang through the air, severing tendons, and slicing flesh.
Limbs fell.
Steel clashed.
At first, they could withstand his attacks.
But then—
His strikes became heavier.
One by one, their defenses broke.
One by one, they fell.
Lucian moved through them like a reaper, his strikes carving deep, violent wounds.
Limbs fell. Flesh split. Blood soaked the earth.
More soldiers poured in from the forest, forming a ring around him. Three hundred men.
A vast circle, swords gleaming, eyes locked on the monster in the center.
“ATTACK!”
Lucian smirked.
The massacre began.
Lucian vanished into the trees.
The enemy commander’s breath hitched.
The silence was worse than the screams.