Chapter 70: The Predator Revealed
The sun had already begun its slow descent. Within another half hour, twilight would blanket the mountains.
The dense pine canopy of the wilderness gradually thinned as the terrain sloped upward. Snow, undisturbed by human tracks, blanketed the forest floor in deep, soft mounds that muffled every footstep.
Ethan walked at an even, unhurried pace.
His white traveling cloak rustled softly against the freezing mountain breeze. Tucked securely inside the inner pocket against his chest, Rune remained perfectly still, though his silver ears twitched at every subtle sound echoing through the trees behind them.
Ethan’s Predatory Sense mapped the forest behind him with absolute clarity.
Eleven figures.
They moved with practiced synchronization, leaping from high pine branches to boulders, using the dense tree cover to mask their approach. They maintained a strict two-hundred-meter distance, patiently waiting for the forest to grow denser and the road to vanish entirely before making their move.
A cold smile touched the corners of Ethan’s lips beneath his cloak.
They don’t want to risk a fight near the trade paths where a passing scout patrol might spot the commotion.
He didn’t give them a reason to doubt his direction. Instead of turning back toward the main road to Bloomside, Ethan intentionally veered off the faded trail, guiding them higher onto an isolated rocky ridge.
Ethan’s expression remained unchanged as memories of Greenwich Village surfaced in his mind—the lifeless bodies scattered across the village, along with Rune’s mother... and the countless innocent lives Eclipse had destroyed in both this life and the last.
Some debts could only be repaid in blood.
As they climbed, the pine trees grew sparser until they gave way to bare slate and massive frozen boulders.
Finally, the forest ended entirely.
Ethan stepped out onto a wide, snow-covered cliff jutting over a sharp three-hundred-foot ravine. Jagged rocks waited below like the open jaws of a beast as the northern wind howled across the exposed ridge, tossing Ethan’s dark hair across his forehead.
He walked to the very edge of the precipice and stopped.
He didn’t turn around. He simply stood there, looking out over the endless expanse of the white-capped frontier stretching toward the horizon.
Behind him, the treeline fell dead silent.
Thump.
A figure landed on a high boulder to his left.
Thump. Thump.
Two more dropped onto the narrow slate path leading down the ridge, completely blocking his retreat. Within seconds, Eleven black-clad figures emerged from the tree line, spreading out in a wide arc until Ethan was completely surrounded with his back against the open drop.
At the center of the formation, the leader stepped forward.
His scarred face twisted into a cruel smile, his bloodshot eyes fixed upon Ethan’s back like a predator convinced the hunt was already over. The dark metallic bracelet on his wrist hummed with a suppressed, greasy black light, masking his aura, but the raw killing intent radiating off him was suffocating.
"You led yourself all the way up here," the leader said, his voice grating like stone against iron over the howling wind. "Did you just pick a quiet place to drop dead?"
Ethan turned around slowly.
His deep blue eyes swept across the men surrounding him, his expression as flat and cold as the frozen cliff beneath his boots. Inside his cloak, Rune’s breathing remained steady, trusting him completely.
Ethan said nothing.
The leader’s jaw tightened, a thick vein bulging along his scarred temple. "Answer my questions."
He took two heavy steps forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his broadsword.
"Who killed Vael?" the leader snarled, his voice carrying an edge of rising fury. "And where are the research documents he carried?"
Silence.
The cold wind whistled past the cliff face, carrying small flurries of snow between them. Ethan simply stared back at the leader, his posture completely relaxed, his right hand resting casually near his hip.
"Arrogant little leech..."
A scout on the right side of the circle clicked his tongue in disgust. He was a Peak Great Knight, his body surging with dark aura as he drew a curved trench blade.
"Let me break his legs, Leader. He’ll start talking soon enough."
The scout exploded forward.
His speed was blinding, tearing through the falling snow in a low, vicious dash aimed straight at Ethan’s shoulder. The obsidian blade whistled through the air, meant to pin the boy to the stone.
Ethan didn’t even draw his sword.
He simply tilted his torso an inch to the left.
SWOOSH.
The scout’s blade sliced harmlessly through empty air, brushing past Ethan’s cloak. The scout’s eyes widened in sudden shock as his momentum carried him past—but before he could pull back his weight, Ethan’s left hand shot out like a lightning strike.
BOOM!
Ethan’s fist drove into the scout’s throat with explosive force.
CRACK!
The sickening sound of a shattered windpipe echoed through the air. Before the scout could scream or gasp for air, Ethan grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed his face headfirst into the hard slate floor.
BANG!
Dust, snow, erupted outward in a white cloud. The scout’s legs twitched once before going completely limp, his body sinking into the red-stained snow.
The leader’s bloodshot eyes twitched. Bare-handed?!
The surrounding scouts froze for the briefest instant, shock flashing across their faces. None of them had expected a Peak Great Knight to die before he could even complete a single strike.
"He’s dangerous!" one of them shouted.
"Don’t let him close the distance!"
Three scouts instantly abandoned their swords and drew compact military crossbows from their backs while the remaining fighters surged forward, trying to pin Ethan in place.
TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!
Three black bolts tore through the air from different directions, aiming for Ethan’s head, heart, and knee.
Ethan’s wrist moved.
SCHING!
The Eternal Sovereign Blade traced three silver arcs through the air. One bolt split cleanly in half, another was deflected into the cliffside, while the third skimmed harmlessly past his shoulder.
Before the crossbowmen could reload...
Ethan disappeared.
Four scouts charged simultaneously. Their dark blades ignited with crimson energy, slicing through the rising dust from four different angles—head, heart, waist, and throat.
Ethan’s eyes turned cold.
SCHWING!
The Eternal Sovereign Blade left its scabbard in a motion so fast it didn’t even register as a draw.
A single, blinding ring of silver light expanded from the center of the dust cloud—
Northern Heaven War Art — First Form
Mountain Cleaving Strike
SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT.
The four charging scouts froze mid-air.
Their crimson aura vanished instantly. A thin, perfectly straight crimson line appeared across all four of their waists.
The four scouts landed almost simultaneously. Then their upper bodies slowly slid from their waists before crashing heavily into the snow.
Before the blood could even spray into the air, Ethan’s figure blurred.
Step.
He appeared directly in front of the remaining four scouts standing near the treeline.
"Wait—" one scout gasped, raising his heavy iron shield in sheer panic.
FLASH.
Ethan’s sword thrust forward three times in the space of a heartbeat.
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
Three neat, round holes erupted through the throats of the three scouts behind the shield. As they dropped to their knees clutching their gushing necks, Ethan stepped through them, his sword delivering a clean vertical slice that cleaved the shield—and the scout holding it—completely in half.
THUD.
The dust settled.
In less than three seconds—in a literal blink of an eye—ten Peak Great Knights, an entire elite scouting unit, lay dead on the snow-covered cliff.
Not a single one had managed to land a scratch on Ethan’s clothes.
Crimson blood slowly dripped from the tip of the Eternal Sovereign Blade, staining the untouched snow beneath Ethan’s feet.
The leader stood alone near the path.
His bloodshot eyes were wider than humanly possible, shaking violently as he stared at the severed limbs and corpses surrounding the knight who looked not a day older than twelve.
Cold sweat burst from every pore on his body, freezing instantly against his skin.
The leader’s mind screamed in pure, unadulterated horror, his breath hitching in his chest.
It wasn’t the boy who had witnessed Vael’s death...
He was the one who had caused it.
A monster...
The leader didn’t hesitate. Pride, vengeance, brotherhood—everything vanished, swallowed whole by raw, primal survival instinct.
He didn’t draw his sword. He didn’t activate his aura. He turned on his heel and lunged toward the treeline in a desperate, frantic sprint.
If someone capable of this had appeared in the Northern Frontier, the Conclave had to know.
His hand shot beneath his cloak, pulling out a fist-sized black crystal engraved with countless crimson runes.
The runes immediately began glowing with crimson light.
"I have to report this—!"
Before the communication artifact could activate...
Ethan disappeared.
SWISH!
A silver flash cut across the battlefield.
The leader stared blankly as the hand holding the crystal spun through the air before crashing into the snow several meters away.
Even as blood poured from the severed wrist, he threw himself toward the fallen artifact, desperately stretching out his remaining hand.
Ethan stepped in front of him before the man could crawl another step.
"Where do you think you’re going?"
A flash of silver light tore through the air.
SHRED!
"AAAGHH!"
The leader shrieked as his remaining arm was severed at the elbow while Ethan’s blade flicked again, slicing through the tendons of both knees in the same motion.
THUD!
The leader collapsed onto his stomach, screaming in agony as blood poured into the white snow beneath him. He squirmed like a worm, clutching his ruined limbs, looking up at the boy approaching him.
Ethan calmly walked over to the black crystal lying nearby.
CRACK.
The sole of his boot crushed it into countless dull fragments as the crimson runes flickered once before disappearing forever.
Ethan walked over slowly, the tip of his sword trailing lightly against the stone.
He stopped directly over the writhing man. Without a word, Ethan leaned down and slowly drove the tip of the Eternal Sovereign Blade into the leader’s shoulder.
Puncture...
"AAGHH! STOP! STOP IT!" The leader sobbed, his face contorted in sheer agony as the cold steel pushed inch by inch into his flesh, freezing his blood vessels from the inside out.
"I’m going to ask you once," Ethan said, his voice flat, devoid of any anger or heat. "Did anyone else come with you?"
"N-No! No!" The leader whimpered, tears and blood mixing on his pale face. "Only us! Scouts! I swear it on the Great Evil! I swear it!"
Ethan slowly twisted the blade.
A thread of freezing aura seeped through the wound, forcing its way into the man’s mana pathways.
"AAAAAAHH!"
"Are there any other Conclave members hidden inside Northwatch?" Ethan asked calmly, looking down into the man’s terrified eyes.
"N-No! Vael was... Vael was the only Mage Commander near Northwatch! We came from the eastern border! There’s no one left in Northwatch! Please... please spare me!" The leader wept, utterly broken, staring at Ethan as if looking at the Reaper himself.
Ethan remained silent for a brief moment, his gaze shifting toward the shattered black crystal lying nearby.
"Where do you receive your orders?"
The leader’s body visibly stiffened. His lips trembled, but no words came. Ethan slowly twisted the Eternal Sovereign Blade once more, and a thread of freezing aura forced its way deeper into the man’s mana pathways.
"AAAAAAAGHHH!"
The last of his resistance finally crumbled.
"F-F... Frost... Hollow..."
The words had barely left his mouth when his body suddenly froze. His pupils shrank to pinpoints as though something deep within him had awakened. A thin trail of blood escaped the corner of his lips, followed by another... and another. Dark veins slowly spread beneath the skin of his neck while his entire body trembled uncontrollably.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"Who is your superior?"
The leader desperately tried to answer, but only a mouthful of blood spilled onto the snow. He struggled to force out another word, his face twisting in terror as though something inside him was preventing him from speaking. Another violent cough followed, staining the white ground crimson.
Ethan quietly watched him for several moments before withdrawing the blade from his shoulder.
"It seems I won’t be getting anything else from you."
The leader let out a ragged breath of relief, thinking he had bought his life—
SWISH.
With a casual, almost indifferent flick of his wrist, Ethan drove the blade straight through the center of the leader’s throat, pinning him to the frozen mountain floor.
The leader’s eyes bulged. His legs twitched once, twice, and then went completely still.
Silence returned to the cliff.
Rune poked his head out from Ethan’s cloak, letting out a satisfied, quiet huff as he smelled the blood on the wind.
Ethan casually withdrew his sword, flicking the crimson droplets off the polished steel before sheathing it with a soft clack.
With a simple wave of his hand, Ethan collected all the concealment bracelets from the corpses along with any valuables, storing them into his inventory.
His gaze swept across the battlefield one final time, ensuring nothing of value had been overlooked.
He didn’t spare the dead cultists another glance.
Snowflakes drifted silently from the darkening sky, gradually covering the scattered corpses and washing the crimson battlefield in white once more.
Turning his back on the blood-soaked cliff, Ethan adjusted his traveling cloak, patted Rune’s head, and stepped onto the eastern trail leading down the mountain toward Bloomside.