The hunt continued, the roar of dying beasts echoing through the forest as Damien and Arielle cut through their targets with ease.
It was almost too easy.
Arielle was strong to an extent, no doubt, but Damien was on an entirely different level.
With every swing of his blade, a mana beast fell. Each movement was efficient, precise, and brutal—as if he had done this a thousand times before.
Arielle, despite her own skill, found herself playing catch-up.
The count steadily rose.
Twelve.
Fifteen.
Eighteen.
By the time they reached twenty kills, something changed.
The forest grew quieter.
The remaining Grade Four mana beasts had noticed something was wrong.
They weren't just wandering around aimlessly anymore. They were hiding.
Arielle wiped sweat from her forehead, leaning against a tree. "Damn it," she muttered. "They caught on."
Damien glanced around, his sharp eyes scanning the now eerily silent surroundings.
