Hunting the Hunters
The assassins of the Scarlet Sect thrived in shadows and deception.
But Kael was a hunter of shadows.
He stood before the decaying structure of the Crimson Moon, the air thick with the scent of old blood and death.
The silence was a warning.
No visible guards. No movement in the windows.
But Kael knew… he was being watched.
The game had already begun.
And the first one to make a mistake—
Would die.
Kael inhaled slowly.
He wouldn't be the one to falter.
Kael stepped inside.
The old wooden door groaned open, revealing a dimly lit hall.
Flickering candles cast long, twisting shadows across overturned chairs and broken tables.
The stench of fresh blood clung to the air.
It was a trap.
Kael already knew that.
He took another step forward—
And the silence shattered.
Shadows moved.
Five figures emerged from the darkness, their blades catching the candlelight.
Assassins.
And among them—
A tall man with dark hair and cold eyes.
Verik Langris.
The first target.
Verik tilted his head, studying Kael the way a predator studies prey.
"You really came here alone?"
Kael smirked.
"I guess you're not used to being hunted."
None of the assassins laughed.
They had no sense of humor.
Only sharp blades and a single mission.
Kill Kael.
But Kael was already moving.
Shadow Step—Activated.
Kael vanished the moment the first assassin lunged.
His blade sliced through empty air, hitting nothing but shadows.
A fatal mistake.
Kael reappeared behind him, dagger flashing.
One quick thrust—
And the assassin collapsed, lifeless, before he could even scream.
The second attacked from above.
Kael twisted, using his momentum to redirect the blow, twisting the assassin's wrist—
And driving his blade into his throat.
Blood splattered across the wooden floor.
Two down.
Three left.
Verik still hadn't moved.
His cold gaze never wavered.
He was watching.
Testing Kael.
But Kael wasn't here to play.
He was here to kill.
The third assassin threw a glass vial at the ground.
A black smoke explosion filled the room.
They wanted to blind him.
To turn the fight in their favor.
But they had made a mistake.
Kael didn't need to see to kill.
Dark Mantle—Activated.
The smoke wasn't an obstacle.
It was a weapon.
Now, Kael was the true predator.
He felt the shift in the air.
He heard the quickened breath of his next target.
And then—
He struck.
A single silent kill.
Three down.
Only two left.
The last assassin hesitated.
Verik raised a hand, stopping him from running.
His eyes locked onto Kael's.
"Impressive."
He drew two curved daggers, their edges glowing with crimson energy.
A cultivator.
Kael spun his dagger between his fingers.
"Finally… something interesting."
Verik moved first.
His blades flickered like serpent fangs, striking from impossible angles.
Each slash carved through the air—fast, precise, unpredictable.
Kael didn't block.
He dodged.
Sliding through the gaps.
Ducking under strikes.
Letting the blades miss by inches.
He was learning.
Watching.
And then—
He found the opening.
Abyssal Claws—Activated.
Kael twisted mid-step, his dagger carving into Verik's ribs.
A deep wound.
But not fatal.
Not yet.
Verik stumbled back, his hand pressing against the bleeding gash.
His eyes flickered with realization.
Kael hadn't been fighting to kill.
He had been toying with him.
Verik exhaled, his grip tightening.
"You're not like the others."
Kael tilted his head.
"No. I'm worse."
Then—
He ended the fight.
One swift motion.
Kael's blade pierced Verik's throat.
The assassin's eyes widened in shock.
He tried to speak—
But only blood poured from his mouth.
He fell to his knees.
Then—
He collapsed.
The first target was dead.
Before Kael could relax, he heard it—
The sound of footsteps fleeing.
The last assassin was running.
Typical.
Kael sighed, wiping the blood from his blade.
But he didn't chase him.
He didn't need to.
Because now—
The Scarlet Sect knew the truth.
They knew Kael wasn't prey.
He was the hunter.
And from this moment on—
They would fear him.