Chapter 32: Hunter and the Hunted
The pools behind Ashen gradually faded from sight as he continued deeper into the valley, leaving behind the silent reflections that still felt like watching eyes. The air grew drier, thinner, and more grounded—the mist retreating as rocky terrain replaced still waters.
Here, the world felt more alive.
Not spiritually charged like the gorge.
Not haunted like the reflection basin.
But primal.
The faint rustle of dried leaves.
The crunch of coarse soil beneath his boots.
The soft hum of wind scraping between stone pillars.
This part of the valley did not carry grudges.
It carried instinct.
Ashen slowed his steps naturally, not out of caution, but respect. The environment felt like a territory—claimed by something that did not tolerate intruders.
He pressed his fingers lightly to the ground.
Tracks.
Large. Deep. Precise.
Four-toed paw prints, but spread wide—not canine, not feline. The claws barely touched the ground, as if the creature controlled its steps perfectly.
A predator that moved with intent.
Not a beast acting on hunger.
A beast that hunted for dominance.
Ashen stood again and looked forward.
The prints led deeper between jagged spires of stone, like natural fang-like formations rising from the earth. Shadows stretched long across the path, swallowing light as he stepped through.
He continued walking, soundlessly.
---
Signs of the Apex Predator
Half an hour passed.
Ashen observed multiple signs:
scratch marks on stone—parallel, evenly spaced
fur snagged on branches—short, coarse, black
carcasses of smaller beasts—drained of spiritual energy rather than eaten
This creature didn't kill for flesh.
It killed to consume will.
Ashen recognized the pattern.
Some beasts evolved beyond physical hunger, feeding on aura, vitality, or mental strength. They were rare. Dangerous even in normal forests.
But here, in a valley where spiritual wills lingered?
This beast was not an accident.
It was shaped by the environment.
Ashen narrowed his eyes. "A byproduct of the valley's past."
He continued, following the trail.
The footprints became lighter, almost fading. A sign the creature had begun moving stealthily.
Ashen slowed.
He didn't sense malice.
He sensed attention.
Something had already noticed him.
He did not unsheathe his blade. He kept his posture relaxed, not provoking anything nearby.
Sometimes the fastest way to die was to act like prey or a challenger before necessary.
---
The First Encounter
A low breeze passed.
Leaves drifted across a clearing ahead—red-tinted, brittle, falling from trees that looked dead despite still standing upright. Their branches were stripped smooth, bark peeled away like bone.
Ashen stopped just before entering the clearing.
The air changed.
Silent.
Not the dead kind—this silence had rhythm, like a breath being held.
He looked up.
Amber eyes glowed faintly from between rocky shadows at the edge of the clearing.
Not one pair.
Two.
Then three.
But only one body stepped out.
A beast roughly twice the height of a tiger, fur jet-black, sleek—not wild or matted, but smooth like obsidian. Muscles coiled beneath its coat, each step controlled, light, without sound.
Its tail flicked once—sharp and thin like a whip made of shadow.
Its head was narrow, jaw lined with bone-like protrusions rather than teeth, eyes faintly luminescent, reflecting intent rather than emotion.
This was a predator designed by nature to kill quietly.
Ashen slowly shifted his stance.
The beast didn't charge.
It watched.
Studying him the same way he studied it.
Ashen recognized the look.
Not hunger.
Not territorial aggression.
Evaluation.
This beast hunted only foes worth killing.
---
Two Predators Observe
Ashen took a step forward—not threatening, but direct.
The beast tilted its head slightly, claws tapping rock almost silently.
He could feel its instincts probing his aura, trying to sense what kind of creature he was. Ashen suppressed his Qi further, making his presence smaller, indistinct.
Almost hiding it.
The beast blinked once.
Its focus drifted away from him—no longer considering him prey, more like a passing creature.
It turned away.
Ashen didn't follow.
He stood still, letting it move deeper into the valley. A confrontation now would be pointless and loud, drawing unwanted attention from rogue cultivators or spirits.
He simply watched.
The beast disappeared between jagged stones, steps silent as moonlight.
Ashen turned and continued along a different path—only to stop abruptly.
A faint tremor pulsed through the ground.
Subtle, but familiar.
Not danger.
Recognition.
Ashen exhaled slowly.
"…You again?"
A faint echo of killing intent lingered around him—not his own in the moment, but the residue of the Shadow's presence from earlier. A trace he hadn't fully suppressed.
The valley felt it.
So did the beast.
Stone cracked to Ashen's left.
The predator reemerged—silent, but no longer watching.
Its fur bristled.
Its eyes burned.
Its jaw opened, revealing a second layer of bone-like fangs that hadn't appeared earlier—activated only when it sensed a true kill.
This time, it saw Ashen differently.
Not as creature.
As rival.
As threat.
As something worth devouring.
Ashen lowered his stance, eyes cold.
"So that's what you want."
The beast roared.
Not loud.
But sharp—high-pitched, piercing, slicing through the still air like steel cutting silk.
Ashen exhaled.
"Come."
The beast leaped.
---
The Attack Begins
Ashen stepped aside, moving so lightly he left no mark on the soil. The beast passed through where he stood a heartbeat earlier, claws slicing through stone as though it were flesh.
CRRRK—!
Shards of rock erupted in a clean line, like a blade carved through them.
Fast.
Much faster than the remnants from earlier.
Ashen moved back, testing its speed rather than countering. The beast pivoted instantly, landing on the wall and rebounding without losing momentum.
Silent.
Relentless.
Calculating.
Ashen blocked a claw strike with his forearm, redirecting force into the ground so motion wouldn't transfer directly to his bones.
Even controlled, the impact shook his arm.
This beast wasn't just strong.
It was evolved.
Built for killing cultivators.
And it was still accelerating.
Ashen retreated another step, gathering footing.
The beast lunged again—not aiming for his throat this time, but for his lower ribs where organs compressed under shock.
Smart.
Ashen barely shifted in time.
THWIP—!!
The beast's tail sliced past his shoulder, cutting a faint line across his sleeve. Had it been a direct hit, it would have taken flesh.
Ashen's expression tightened.
Its attacks weren't random. They adjusted based on his reactions.
A learned hunter.
Not instinctual.
He narrowed his gaze.
"…You're not simply a beast."
The predator circled him again, no footsteps, eyes narrowed, muscles taut.
It had no interest in retreating now.
It wanted what clung to Ashen—the echo of his hidden power.
The valley's stored hatred.
His suppressed history.
The Shadow made manifest.
The beast hissed, muscles pulling taut like bowstrings.
Ashen steadied himself.
He still had no desire to kill it.
But it wasn't giving him a choice anymore.
The ground tensed.
Every leaf froze.
Every fragment of air coiled inward.
The beast launched again, faster than before, claws aimed directly at Ashen's heart.
This time, Ashen stepped forward instead of back.
Their eyes met.
The beast saw not prey.
It saw something reflected in him—
Something darker than itself.
Its pupils contracted in instinctive fear—
—and then ruthlessness overcame it.
It attacked with full force.