I'm Thomas Andre. A National Level Hunter. The strongest. Unbeatable.
He really wanted to say that to Scáthach—but Thomas understood. If Scáthach had specifically warned him to "be careful," then this wasn't some small-time threat. It was real danger… the kind that could threaten a National Level Hunter's life.
His face darkened. A heavy presence rolled off him, thick enough to make the air feel congealed. His pupils flared with molten-gold brilliance, as if two miniature suns were burning in his sockets.
"Stronger than me?"
"…"
Scáthach paused, choosing her words.
"When they aren't serious, they look more or less human. If you ignore that abnormal aura of theirs, you might even mistake them for humans. In that state, with your strength, you should be able to suppress one briefly in a one-on-one."
They? There were many existences stronger than him?
It sounded absurd—but Thomas forced himself to keep listening.
"And if they get serious," Scáthach continued, "they'll start looking more like monsters. In a one-on-one, your chances against them are pitiful. Odds are you'll get beaten so badly you won't even recognize your own mother."
"And there's more," her tone sharpened. "Never fight them in a Dungeon—or anywhere off Earth. On Earth, their strength is restrained. If you let them show their true form… then even if you tied all five National Level Hunters together, you still couldn't beat any one of them."
"Don't think I'm exaggerating. Every monster humanity has ever encountered—including Kamish the Dragon, the one you paid so many lives to barely bring down—was one of their underlings. And every single one of them is stronger than Kamish the Dragon."
...
After Japan's victory banquet, Scáthach and the others stayed briefly, then boarded a flight back to South Korea.
After returning home, Sung Jinwoo spent only a single day with his family before stepping into the Land of Shadows again, asking his Shishō, Scáthach, to make him stronger.
He understood it clearly now: instead of wasting time clearing low-tier Dungeons, it was better to endure Scáthach's brutal instruction. Training under the Queen of the Land of Shadows was cruel—but the growth was immediate, visible, and terrifyingly fast.
To stand against the Monarchs who would soon come to Earth… to protect the world from the flames of ruin… he needed every second.
These recent clashes with powerful enemies had sent Jinwoo's level skyrocketing. And especially, the Monarch of Beginnings, Legia he'd killed in that S-Rank Dungeon had provided an enormous amount of experience—enough to push him up several levels at once.
Now, facing the same mighty dragon that had once chased him into a frantic retreat, Jinwoo could trade blows with it head-on.
That ferocious dragon reminded Jinwoo of the most powerful—and most terrifying—of the nine Monarchs: the Monarch of Destruction. During a break, he couldn't help but ask Scáthach.
"Shishō… this dragon… how does it compare to the King of Dragons?"
Scáthach shot him a loaded look. "You're really underestimating the King of Dragons. This thing isn't even qualified to be mentioned in the same breath. One attack from the King of Dragons and this brat would be ash."
"ROOOAAARGH!"
The dragon rumbled, dissatisfied, the scales along its body bristling.
"Quiet. Who said you get a vote?" Scáthach rapped its horn with her crimson spear. The dragon that had been bristling a moment ago instantly tucked its head back, lowering itself obediently—its tail curling up as carefully as if it might get scolded for moving wrong.
"A Monarch's actions on Earth are limited by their vessel," Scáthach said. "If it's on Earth, this kid should be able to fight any Monarch other than the Monarch of Destruction and the Shadow Monarch to a standstill—maybe even win."
Her voice cooled.
"But the Monarch of Destruction is different. If the other Monarchs make an enemy of him, they won't even have time to run. He'll erase them in an instant. Only the Monarch of Beginnings—thick-skinned and tough—can last a little longer under his breath, and even then, death is inevitable."
Scáthach looked at Jinwoo long and hard, then said in a low voice, "Leave the King of Dragons to me. You just need to defeat the other Monarchs."
Jinwoo lowered his head deeply. A lingering shadow hung over his brow, his tightened brows heavy as storm clouds. Scáthach's words didn't comfort him much at all.
"If the enemy is the King of Dragons…" His voice was tight. "Shishō—you'll win, right?"
Scáthach closed her eyes gently, a careless smile on her lips.
"Of course I'll win." Her fingertips traced the patterns on her crimson spear, her voice carrying an ancient, unchanging composure. "I'm the strongest, after all."
...
During his time training in the Land of Shadows, Jinwoo's strength advanced at a steady, astonishing pace. Even though he was already far beyond what he used to be, Scáthach always adjusted to him—grasping his growth rhythm with uncanny precision and tailoring the perfect training plan.
And the Monarchs' movements unfolded exactly as Scáthach had foreseen. To clear the way for the coming full-scale war, they were trying to eliminate, in secret, the vessels chosen by the Rulers.
Scáthach didn't warn the other National Level Hunters the way she'd warned Thomas. She knew their pride—carved into the bone by a life lived at the summit of the world. They wouldn't simply believe her.
Even if she told them they were being targeted, most would treat it as background noise… because people had always coveted their lives, and yet they were always the ones left standing in the end.
Unless she beat every National Level Hunter the way she'd beaten Thomas…
The thought was honestly pretty tempting. Scáthach came close to doing it. But she needed to keep watch on the Monarchs' movements at all times—and if she got carried away, it would be easy to ruin everything.
The first to be attacked was Christopher Reed, a National Level Hunter of the United States. One night, the Monarch of Frost, the Monarch of Fangs, and the Monarch of Iron Body broke into his estate, sealing off the space inside from the outside. Until they left, no one would notice anything happening within.
But Scáthach had already seen that future through [Clairvoyance], and had Jinwoo arrive in time to drive the three Monarchs back.
Jinwoo drove them off not because he was stronger, but because the moment they sensed the Shadow Monarch's aura, their will to fight collapsed—they only wanted to flee. After they returned, they would likely recover from their fear of Ashborn quickly, begin to suspect Jinwoo wasn't truly the Shadow Monarch Ashborn, and create an opportunity to test that suspicion.
After Christopher, two more top Hunters were attacked—one of them even being Chairman Go Gunhee of the Korean Hunters Association. But because Jinwoo arrived in time, the Monarchs failed to achieve anything.
The remaining Monarchs gathered within a rift in space-time to discuss their next move.
"Now… it's certain, isn't it?" The one who broke the oppressive silence first was an elderly man with snow-white hair and a hardy frame. Wintry frost swirled around him, and with every word, ice crystals formed in the void.
He was the King of Snow Folk—the Monarch of Frost.
An old man wrapped in a deep purple cloak gave a slight nod. Between the folds of cloth, aged knuckles showed faintly, and his hoarse voice raised gooseflesh.
"Indeed. If that person truly were the Shadow Monarch Ashborn, you wouldn't have come back alive."
He was the King of Demonic Spectres—the Monarch of Transfiguration, Yogumunt.
It was harsh—but the Monarchs who'd failed didn't refute it. Their faces darkened, and they stayed silent.
"The Monarch of Plagues hasn't shown herself in a long time," the next voice rumbled. "Looks like she's already been dealt with by the Shadow Monarch, yes?"
The speaker was a man broad as a mountain. His rough voice carried the low tremor of a predator. Wildness radiated off him; claws glinted at his fingertips, and when his lips split, carnivore fangs flashed.
He was the King of Beasts—the Monarch of Fangs.
"Even if the Monarch of Plagues was weak, she was still a Monarch," said another. "The only existence that could eliminate her without a sound would be the Shadow Monarch…" Golden hair. A white coat. Unlucky black-violet flames danced with elegant menace around him, throwing his aristocratic face into something eerily beautiful. "Which means… he's taken the humans' side."
He was the King of Monstrous Humanoids—the Monarch of Iron Body.
"So," a new voice cut in, "you want to say your failure… was all the Shadow Monarch's fault?"
The moment that presence spoke, every Monarch fell silent. No one even dared breathe.
Fire-red hair hung to the man's waist, stirring without wind. Dark-gold armor flowed with molten patterns. A thick dragon tail swayed behind him, each sweep leaving a scorching trace in the void.
He was the strongest of the Monarchs—the king who ruled the dragons.
Antares, the Monarch of Destruction.
Just being looked at by those draconic eyes made the assembled Monarchs feel as if their souls were about to be burned to ash.
Seeing them all bow their heads in silence, Antares shifted his gaze to the Monarch of Frost. The instant he felt that stare, the Monarch of Frost understood he couldn't keep pretending to be mute.
"Every time we try to kill those damned fragments of light's vessels, the Shadow Monarch appears at the crucial moment and ruins our plans. Even isolating inner space from outer space is useless…" The Monarch of Frost's voice tightened. "It's like he can foresee the future—yet that isn't an ability the Shadow Monarch possesses. Someone must be helping him in secret. S-So… so that's why we—"
"Then," Antares interrupted, "have you found the one helping the Shadow Monarch?"
The mana surging from Antares grew even more terrifying, as if a mountain had been dropped onto the Monarch of Frost's shoulders. The pressure was crushing.
"We… haven't found them yet…"
His mouth opened, and at last, he forced the answer out through clenched teeth.
Antares understood perfectly: they were just searching for excuses.
But he didn't care.
He was too strong—so strong that, to him, the Monarchs before him weren't much different from other denizens of that chaotic realm.
They were all Monarchs, yes. Yet the gulf between Antares and the others was like heaven and earth. If any Monarch could, alone, slaughter every Hunter on Earth except Sung Jinwoo and Scáthach—then Antares was the one who could, alone, slaughter every Monarch except himself.
His Breath of Destruction was the purest, most absolute "destruction"—a flame that could even burn "death" itself to nothing.
For some reason, as he listened to the Monarch of Frost, a figure surfaced in Antares's mind.
Long, long ago… a woman he couldn't fully see through had trespassed into his domain. She had walked straight to his throne and challenged him—him, the incarnation of destruction.
"You're the strongest in this world, right?" That woman's mouth had twisted into a reckless grin. The vermilion spear in her hand burned with ominous aura, as if it would pierce an enemy's heart the moment it was thrown. "Try to kill me. Otherwise… the spear in my hand will pierce your heart."
Whenever Antares remembered her, his hand would drift to his chest without thinking…
The place she'd pierced back then still ached faintly, even now.
But Antares didn't believe he would ever see her again.
At the end of that battle, his Breath of Destruction had completely swallowed her. Flesh and soul alike had been burned to nothing. Even the Shadow Monarch, who commanded death itself, couldn't revive a life utterly erased by his dragon flames.
...
"But unfortunately… I survived." In the gray, ancient castle of the Land of Shadows, Scáthach lounged on her lonely throne. Her fingertips traced the worn scars along the armrest. Her bewitching crimson eyes seemed to slip free of time and space, casting their gaze toward somewhere unimaginably distant.
Her lips curved slightly. Dense, pure fighting spirit coiled around her, and the low murmur she breathed into the vast throne hall echoed back—carrying an anticipation so sharp it made the very space tremble.
"King of Dragons, Antares… I can't wait to continue the duel that was forced to end."
---
T/N: NAHHHHHHHHHH SHE LOST?! well yea makes sense BUT HOLYYYY SHES GONNA GET THE GOJO TREATMENT
bonus chaps
100 stones -> 1 chapter
200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
and so on
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