The armor clinked softly as Mike adjusted his gauntlet straps one last time. It wasn't elegant or graceful—just rugged, practical gear forged from hardened beast metal and infused with fragments of basic-tier beast crystals. The chestpiece was shaped with sturdy angular plating, the boots fit snug to allow swift movement, and the gauntlets and dagger sheaths were functional, not fancy. To a first-time eye, the armor might've looked like something welded together from scrap metal, but beneath its crude surface lay its true value—it was tough as iron and lighter than it looked. Built to withstand real damage, real blood, and real battle.
Fully equipped now, Mike walked silently toward the loading ramp of the Light Devils' spacecraft. Around him, the 50 newly recruited hunters and other veteran members of the faction gathered near the vessel. The sky above Pearl City shimmered with dawn, painting the base in soft hues of orange and blue.
Mike's thoughts drifted.
He'd made it this far.
From a university trainee to a full-fledged recruit standing on the threshold of his first hunt.
But that gnawing unease hadn't left him.
"I'm not like the others."
Not just because of his strange ability—but because something deeper lingered. His energy center, though wide, had always been thin in density. He wasn't the kind who could rush up the ranks like others. His body strained against energy absorption; his core barely endured the tempering that others passed with ease. He had already tasted the edge of death when his core almost burst absorbing too much energy during a training attempt.
But despite it all... he stood here.
He had endured.
One foot after another, Mike climbed the ramp, his hand brushing against the cold metallic rail.
Inside, the east wing of the ship filled quickly. Mike found a quiet seat near the rear, slipping in silently. Around him, muted conversations and gear adjustments filled the air. The Light Devils' symbol—a radiant angel with spread wings—gleamed proudly on the ship walls.
David Trueman's voice crackled through the ship's intercom.
"All units onboard. Prepare for departure. Next stop—Planet Khalis."
The engines roared softly beneath their feet as the vessel lifted into the early morning sky, the walls of Pearl City shrinking into the clouds below. Within minutes, they pierced through the upper atmosphere, entering the vast canvas of space.
Ahead, a monolithic structure floated: a colossal space station shaped like a massive ring, its arms outstretched like an eternal guardian but that were not arms they were rectangular buildings . The outer circle bore intricate runes that glowed faintly. At its heart blazed the Light Devils' insignia, casting an ethereal glow across the black of space.
David's voice crackled again.
"Station control, this is David Trueman, Light Devils C-rank hunter. Requesting passage to Khalis system—mission designation KC234."
A second later, the space station's runes flared brilliantly. The central ring ignited, swirling into a vortex of pure white light. Dimensional energies folded inwards, carving a wormhole through space itself.
Mike stared, breathless.
"This is a jump gate... a real one."
The ship accelerated smoothly, plunging into the swirling white light—and the universe shifted. Silence enveloped them momentarily before they burst out on the other side.
Now ahead floated Planet Khalis, a vast green marble suspended in the darkness. Its atmosphere shimmered with an emerald tint, lush and vibrant even from orbit.
The ship began its descent.
From the windows, Mike could see the fortified base near the equator—massive walls encircled small clusters of buildings, markets, storage depots, and heavy defense towers armed with railguns and plasma cannons.
At the eastern docking station one can observe the fleet of ships and many armed gaurdd with , many armored vehicles hovered in formation nearby , awaiting their arrival.
As the ship landed, two Light Devils guards, clad in gleaming blue armor and green uniform and carrying hybrid plasma-rifles in thier hands and an sword at the back , approached David.
After a brief exchange, they gestured toward a set of hovering transports.
"Sir, you and your team may use three of these vehicles."
David nodded and barked out orders.
"First truck—D-rank and E-rank hunters. Remaining two trucks—F-rank recruits. Move!"
Mike boarded the second vehicle, securing himself with the magnetic restraints.
The trucks hovered effortlessly 40 meters above the ground, their turbines thrumming softly. As they sped westward toward the mountains, the lush jungle blurred past beneath them.
Fifteen minutes later, the vehicles stopped midair.
Mechanical ramps extended to the ground. One by one, the hunters disembarked, weapons ready.
Above them, the transports remained hovering, deploying stabilizing arms to anchor in place like watchful sentries.
David led them forward on foot, weaving through sparse vegetation. Mike walked among the recruits, eyes scanning every shadow.
Suddenly, David raised a fist, signaling a halt.
"We're close," David said, voice low and sharp. "Borders of the Commander-tier beast territory. Stay alert."
A distant rumble—like thunder rolling across the jungle floor—echoed.
"Formation! E-ranks and F-ranks, conceal!"
Following orders, the lower-ranked hunters—including Mike—retreated to cover. An E-rank hunter pressed his palm to the ground, invoking his ability. A transparent distortion shimmered around them—an advanced camouflage barrier. From the outside, it looked like nothing but empty forest.
Mike crouched low, watching intently.
Through the veil of the barrier, a figure emerged from the trees—a massive, 2-meter tall black panther. Its sleek fur gleamed like dark steel, etched with jagged yellow lightning patterns. Its golden eyes burned with primal fury.
David stood calmly at the front, alone.
No hesitation.
No retreat.
The panther growled low, muscles rippling under its obsidian hide.
David's hand moved, drawing a machete from his side—a wide, curved blade that gleamed dully in the dim light.
And then—
David exploded into motion.
With a stomp of his boots, green energy flared across his legs and weapon. The emerald light formed swirling vortexes around his limbs, amplifying his speed to an almost blinding degree.
The beast lunged first, jaws wide, lightning crackling across its fur.
But David was faster.
He sidestepped nimbly, letting the panther's massive paw swipe harmlessly past him. His machete slashed horizontally—an emerald trail following the blade. The blow cut across the beast's neck, leaving a deep, gaping wound from which black blood gushed.
The panther howled in rage, its muscles bunching as it attacked again, claws flashing.
David responded in kind.
Green light condensed around his boot's heel, forming a vicious blade of wind. With a sharp spinning kick, he struck the beast square in the jaw, staggering it backward.
But David didn't relent.
Spinning the machete expertly, he unleashed a flurry of green energy slashes—each strike a razor-thin arc slicing through the air. They hammered the panther from multiple angles, forcing it further back with each hit.
But the panther wasn't slow—it sidestepped the deadly blow and launched its claws toward David's exposed head.
Reacting instantly, David thrust his palm forward.
An emerald gale, tightly compressed, exploded from his hand like a cannon blast, slamming into the beast's chest and pushing it backward.
Without giving the panther time to recover, David raised both hands, forming a larger gust of concentrated wind that howled across the clearing.
He hurled it toward the beast—an invisible hammer strike—sending the Panther skidding even farther across the ground.
Not wasting the opening, David clenched his machete tighter, charging it with an even greater mass of swirling green energy.
The blade pulsed, humming like a living creature.
He dashed forward and unleashed a massive slash across the panther's belly.
The slash struck hard, the green aura detonating on impact like a controlled explosion.
Blood sprayed in thick jets, and the deep gash across its abdomen widened gruesomely.
The beast screeched in agony, stumbling away, its movements slower and uncoordinated now.
But the battle was far from over.
Fury crackled across its fur—tiny electric needles forming along its pelt.
Before it could retaliate, Bron Trueman stepped forward.
With a grunt, Bron slammed his palm into the ground, summoning a massive stone wall that erupted in front of David. The electric needles fired—but the thick earth wall absorbed the brunt of the blast, crumbling from the impact.
"Go!" Bron shouted.
Three more D-rank hunters charged.
One loosed a bolt from his crossbow—splitting midair into six smaller projectiles. The panther swiped wildly, deflecting most, but two lodged into its clawed paws, hindering its movements.
Another hunter, wielding a heavy mace, burst forward at superhuman speed, slamming the weapon into the panther's ribs. Cracks echoed through the air.
A third appeared like a phantom—his spear emerging from invisibility—driving deep into the beast's flank.
The panther thrashed wildly, electricity exploding outward. Two of the hunters were stunned, their bodies convulsing.
But before the beast could finish them—
David moved.
The ground beneath the panther cracked as jagged rock spikes shot upward, aiming for its exposed underbelly.
Sensing danger, the beast dodged instinctively.
But David was already there.
His legs wreathed in tornadoes of green wind, he propelled himself forward and delivered a devastating spinning kick straight into the panther's skull.
The beast was sent flying, smashing through trees and crashing into the jungle floor in a heap.
Mike watched, heart pounding in awe.
This… this was the real hunt.
And the battle had only just begun.