The dust and stone debris slowly settled, leaving behind a murky mist that shrouded the entrance to the valley. The colossal boulder sat there like an ancient behemoth, cutting off all paths. Outside, the furious roars of Xich Vu and the sound of his futile strikes against the rock echoed. Inside, there were only the wretched, frenzied howls of the two surviving Black-veined Hounds.
Ensnared in the matrix of Hidden Horse Vines, the more they struggled, the tighter the sinew-tough creepers bound them. Fresh blood from wounds inflicted by the Blackblood Thorns began to dye their pitch-black fur a gruesome crimson. The third Black-veined Hound was already dead, its chest impaled by a particularly large and jagged thorn branch.
High upon the cliff, Tran Kien slowly rose to his feet. His face was terrifyingly calm, his eyes clear and devoid of a single ripple. His hand gripped the hilt of his longblade tightly. Cold. The sensation of the frigid metal seeping into his palm helped his mind become even more lucid. The trap had sprung. The hounds were cornered. Now, it was time for the hunter to act.
He did not descend by his original path. Instead, he moved along the edge of the precipice, his form as agile as a mountain ape, quickly circling to the rear of the two demonic beasts. Once in a perfect position, Tran Kien did not hesitate for a moment. He let go, his body hurtling downward like a plunging arrow. In the moment of his descent, every muscle in his body tightened, and the strength tempered by the "Iron Thrust" mnemonic was funneled into his legs.
Thud!
He landed softly and firmly. The two frantically struggling Black-veined Hounds heard the noise and whipped their heads around. Their bloodshot eyes bulged, staring at the figure that had abruptly appeared. The ferocity in their eyes was instantly replaced by an instinctive flicker of dread. Tran Kien gave them no time to howl a warning.
Swish!
The longblade in his hand traced a cold, silver arc. This was his first time truly using a blade in combat. Yet, strangely, there was no trembling, no hesitation. Years of crushing ore had tempered his ability to control power and precision to the hairsbreadth. He understood clearly that in a life-and-death struggle, mercy to the enemy was cruelty to oneself. His target was the Black-veined Hound on the right. The sharp edge sliced through the air, producing a sweet, whistling sound.
Puchi!
A dull sound echoed as fresh blood erupted in a long, scalding fountain, splashing across Tran Kien's face. The demonic beast only had time to let out a pained whimper before the light in its blood-red eyes vanished.
Witnessing this, the remaining Black-veined Hound seemed to be consumed by fire. Its madness reached its peak. It let out a heaven-rending roar, exerting every ounce of its strength to snap several Hidden Horse Vines. Its maw, filled with jagged fangs, gaped wide as it prepared to lung forward and tear Tran Kien to shreds.
But Tran Kien had long since anticipated this. Immediately after delivering the first strike, he pivoted, borrowing the momentum of the swing to spin his body like a whirlwind. His tempered physique had become incredibly supple and flexible. He avoided the fatal bite by a hair's breadth, and simultaneously, the longblade in his hand followed the momentum, slashing upward. This time, the target was the beast's soft underbelly.
Rip!
A long, deep gash appeared. Viscera immediately spilled out onto the ground. The massive demonic beast froze; it lowered its head to look at the fatal wound, a look of disbelief flashing in its eyes before it collapsed heavily.
Everything returned to a deathly silence. Only Tran Kien remained, standing amidst the three carcasses. Beast blood stained his face and clothes, dripping from the edge of his blade, yet his eyes remained preternaturally calm. His sword-hand, for the first time, trembled slightly—not out of fear, but from a mixture of excitement and a lingering sense of shock after dancing on the line between life and death.
Outside the valley, as Xich Vu heard the final agonizing howl cut short, his heart felt as though it were being squeezed by an invisible hand. He knew that the three demonic hounds, which the Black Dragon Stronghold had spent so much effort to raise, were now all dead.
"You little brat!!!" he bellowed, his roar tearing through the silent night, filled with resentment and a sky-high killing intent. He frantically smashed the hilt of his saber against the massive boulder. "Black Crow! Blood Hand! At all costs, find me another way inside! I want to hack him into a hundred pieces!"
Tran Kien did not linger. He quickly moved to the corpse of the first Black-veined Hound and used his strength to sever the silver collar engraved with a centipede. This was his "trophy," a resolute declaration of war sent to Xich Vu.
Clutching the collar, he swiftly scaled the sheer cliff, his small frame quickly merging into the boundless darkness of the ancient forest. He left behind a blood-soaked battlefield and a clear message for the hunter: Your net... has been torn asunder!
Half a shichen later, the Black Panther Guards finally found a bypass. Xich Vu stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the battlefield before stopping at the sight of his three beloved hounds, dead in such a miserable fashion. His eyes were as red as blood. He knelt to inspect the wounds. The cuts were clean, decisive, and without a hint of hesitation.
"Reporting Commander... the collar of the pack leader... is gone," a Black Panther Guard reported tremulously.
Xich Vu raised his head, his gaze as sharp as a dagger looking toward the deep forest. His rage suddenly subsided, replaced by an extreme coldness. For the first time in his life, he felt that he was not the hunter, but the one being hunted.
"Interesting," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Truly interesting. This hunt... has only just begun."