Five days had passed since Alex began hunting. For five days, he had been moving through the shadows, striking swiftly and disappearing before anything stronger could notice his presence.
Alex had become like a ghost within this mountain range.
Beast Monarchs had been falling one after another. A horned serpent had died here. A stone-armored bear had fallen there. A pack of silver-fanged wolves had required three separate engagements before he had managed to wipe them out completely.
With every kill, a faint stream of life essence had flowed into his body. The progress bar had been creeping upward steadily—2000, 4000, 6000.
On the third day, he had nearly been caught by a Saint-level predator. A massive spider had dropped from the canopy without warning. He had teleported away with only milliseconds to spare, and the creature's fangs had closed on empty air where his head had been moments before.
