Chapter 5
The streetlights began to die.
One by one.
The first flickered.
The second dimmed.
Then the third exploded with a sharp crack, showering the wet pavement with sparks.
Azrael stood in the middle of the road, the scythe resting loosely in his hand.
"…That's new," he muttered.
The darkness spread slowly down the street like something alive.
The city had been noisy moments ago—cars passing, distant horns, muffled music from an apartment window.
Now everything was silent.
Too silent.
The scythe pulsed once.
A quiet warning.
"Something is coming," the ancient voice whispered inside his mind.
Azrael didn't take his eyes off the darkness ahead.
"You said that already."
"Is it another Soul Beast?"
"No."
The voice was colder this time.
"Something worse."
A slow sound echoed through the empty street.
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Measured.
The shadow at the end of the road shifted.
Then something stepped into the faint glow of the last surviving streetlamp.
Azrael's stomach tightened.
The figure was tall.
Much taller than a normal human.
Its body was wrapped in dark armor that looked forged from black bone.
Torn cloth drifted behind it like smoke.
And in its hand—
It carried a long spear made of twisted soul energy.
The creature stopped beneath the light.
Its head slowly lifted.
Two glowing green eyes locked onto Azrael.
Azrael exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah."
"That definitely looks like trouble."
"A Hunter," the scythe whispered.
"One of Axar's servants."
Azrael rolled his shoulders.
"Of course it is."
The creature took another step forward.
The ground cracked beneath its weight.
"You carry the scythe," the Hunter said.
Its voice sounded wrong.
Like many voices speaking together through a broken throat.
Azrael raised an eyebrow.
"Oh."
"It talks."
The Hunter continued walking.
"The new Reaper."
Azrael lifted the weapon onto his shoulder casually.
"Word travels fast."
The creature stopped a few meters away.
Green light pulsed beneath its armor.
"Your soul belongs to the Tyrant."
Azrael smirked.
"Tell him to get in line."
The Hunter moved.
Fast.
Faster than anything Azrael had faced before.
The spear cut through the air like lightning.
Azrael barely raised the scythe in time.
Metal clashed.
Blue energy exploded between the weapons.
The shockwave shattered the nearby windows.
Azrael slid backward across the pavement.
"…Okay."
He tightened his grip.
"You're stronger than the last one."
The Hunter didn't respond.
It attacked again.
This time the spear moved like a storm.
Azrael blocked the first strike.
Dodged the second.
The third nearly pierced his shoulder.
He twisted away at the last second.
The scythe pulsed violently.
Blue light surged along the blade.
The weapon dissolved into glowing fragments.
Then reformed—
Into a long sword.
Azrael blinked.
"…Nice."
The Hunter struck again.
Azrael stepped forward this time.
The sword flashed.
Blue energy ripped across the creature's armor.
The Hunter staggered slightly.
A crack spread along its chest plate.
Green light leaked from the wound.
The creature tilted its head.
"Interesting."
Azrael raised the sword.
"I get that a lot."
The Hunter attacked again.
This time the strike carried real force.
Azrael blocked—but the impact threw him backward.
His boots scraped across the wet asphalt as he fought to keep his balance.
The Hunter advanced slowly.
"You are inexperienced."
Azrael wiped rainwater from his face.
"Yeah."
"Still learning."
The scythe whispered quietly.
"Focus."
Azrael took a slow breath.
The weapon pulsed again.
The sword dissolved—
Then reformed into the scythe once more.
Azrael gripped the handle tightly.
Blue fire erupted along the blade.
The Hunter lunged.
Azrael stepped forward.
The scythe moved in a perfect arc.
The blade passed through the Hunter's spear—
Then through its chest.
For a moment—
Everything froze.
Then the Hunter staggered backward.
A deep crack split its armor.
Blue light burst from the wound.
The creature looked down slowly.
"…Impossible."
Azrael smirked.
"Guess again."
The Hunter's body shattered.
Fragments of green energy scattered into the air like broken glass.
The street fell silent once more.
Azrael lowered the scythe.
"…That was intense."
The voice inside the weapon spoke quietly.
"That was only a scout."
Azrael frowned.
"A scout?"
"Yes."
"Axar now knows where you are."
Azrael glanced down the empty street.
"Fantastic."
The scythe pulsed again.
"You should move."
"More Hunters will come."
Azrael leaned the weapon against his shoulder.
"Yeah."
"I figured."
He turned toward his apartment building—
Then stopped.
Something else had changed.
The air felt heavier again.
But not like before.
This felt…
Ancient.
Azrael slowly looked up.
High above the city—
Something enormous moved behind the clouds.
A shadow.
Massive.
Watching.
Azrael narrowed his eyes.
"…Please tell me that's not another Hunter."
The scythe answered softly.
"No."
"What is it?"
The voice grew quieter.
"That…"
"…is one of Axar's generals."
Azrael stared at the sky.
The shadow slowly turned.
And for a brief moment—
Two burning eyes opened in the clouds.
Then the presence vanished.
The night returned to normal.
Cars began moving again.
Distant sounds of the city returned.
But Azrael didn't move.
He stared at the sky for several seconds.
Then sighed.
"Well."
He lifted the scythe again.
"…This job just got a lot worse."
Far beyond the mortal world—
Inside the dark throne room of the Soul Tyrant—
Axar smiled.
"The Reaper fights well."
Blue fire burned inside his eyes.
"But the game has only begun."
He leaned forward slowly.
"Send the next Hunter."