Inside the Beast Hive Forest
Mist clung to the ground like the breath of ancient spirits. Vines as thick as pythons hung from the towering trees, their leaves whispering in the wind. Somewhere in the darkness, a deep growl rumbled, followed by the crack of breaking branches.
Kent stood on a moss-covered root, his figure swallowed by the shadows of the canopy. A faint ripple of spiritual energy encased his body, bending light and sound around him. It wasn't invisibility in the mortal sense—it was something far more refined. His presence was erased, his killing intent sealed in a sheath sharper than any blade.
The gamblers' lackeys—those who had dared to surround him earlier—were nothing but the opening act. Now, the hunt had begun in earnest.
