Silence descended.

The abrupt absence of sound was more jarring than the cataclysmic crash that had preceded it. Rain continued its ceaseless patter against shattered glass and fractured asphalt, a steady metallic rhythm that now seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. Distant fires sputtered as they died out beneath the rain, their orange light fading into weak smoke that drifted lazily across the ruined street.

Every hunter still standing on Orchard Road was frozen.

Some were mid-stride, boots splashing in shallow pools of rainwater and black blood. Others stood with their heads tilted upward, necks locked in the act of staring toward the sky where the Troll King had fallen only moments earlier. Weapons remained clutched loosely in tired hands. A few hunters had lowered their blades entirely without realizing it. The collective gasp that had risen from both side, still seemed to hang in the humid, smoke-filled air, unfinished.

They all stared at the same place.

What had once been the grand entrance to the Paragon Shopping Mall was gone. The polished glass and steel facade had been obliterated, replaced by a cavernous wound violently carved into the building’s structure. The gleaming marble steps, the tall decorative pillars, and the elegant glass doors that had once welcomed crowds of shoppers had all been obliterated, and in their place yawned a ragged crater of broken concrete, twisted rebar, and dangling structural cables that swayed slightly beneath the falling rain.

Dust churned slowly from the ruined opening.

The rain struck the drifting debris, turning it into thick, grey sludge that slid down the shattered walls and pooled across the broken street. Mud formed from pulverized concrete, and water dripped from the jagged edges of marble like slow bleeding wounds.

And at the center of it all, the Troll King.

Its enormous body lay half-buried beneath shattered stone and twisted metal beams. Its chest rose and fell in heavy, labored breaths while dark blood continued pouring from the severed stump where its arm had once been. Steam curled faintly from the wound as rain struck the exposed flesh.

For three long seconds, the battlefield did not move.

Rain continued falling. Fires crackled weakly. Somewhere in the distance, injured hunters groaned and called for help, their voices muffled by the smoke and drifting dust. But no one advanced. No one attacked. Even the Bloodclaws had fallen silent.

Then Jagger moved.

While the others stared at the destruction in stunned disbelief, his mind had already moved forward. He slipped quietly through the frozen ranks of hunters like a shadow gliding across wet pavement. His movements were controlled and deliberate, each step carefully placed so his boots barely disturbed the rainwater beneath them.

His injured arm remained tight against his body, a constant throbbing reminder of the damage it had endured. In his good hand, he gripped the dagger tightly, the weapon slick with diluted blood from the rain.

He stayed low as he moved.

The burned-out husk of a delivery van became his cover. The vehicle had been thrown onto its side during the earlier shockwaves, its metal body warped and blackened by heat and impact. Jagger slipped behind it, using the twisted frame to conceal himself from the rest of the battlefield.

His eyes searched the scattered hunters.

Chaos had left several fighters disoriented and isolated across the street.

He found one.

A Bloodclaw hunter lay flat on his back several meters away, clearly thrown to the ground by the shockwave of the Troll King’s crash. The man blinked slowly at the sky, still trying to recover his senses. His axe had landed a few feet away, its broad blade reflecting faint orange light from the burning interior of the mall.

The man exhaled a shaky laugh.

“Gods thank you,” the Bloodclaw muttered weakly. “For a second, I thought I was a goner. That was insane.”

He had not yet realized someone was behind him.

Jagger closed the distance in three silent steps.

The Bloodclaw’s head turned slightly as his instincts finally registered movement. His eyes widened just as Jagger reached him.

Too late.

“I’m sorry.”

The dagger slid upward beneath the man’s jaw with terrifying ease. The blade slipped cleanly into the soft hollow between bone and muscle and drove deep into his throat. Jagger twisted the weapon once.

The Bloodclaw’s body jerked violently as his nervous system spasmed. A wet choking sound bubbled from his mouth as blood filled his throat. His hands twitched weakly against the pavement before going still.

Rain continued falling into his open eyes.

‘Four.’

Jagger pulled the dagger free and wiped the blade against the dead man’s jacket, darkening the fabric with a heavy smear of blood. Then he stepped back into the shadow of the van, letting the rain wash over him as he pressed himself against the cool metal frame.

That was when he saw him.

A Bastion hunter stood only a few steps away.

The boy looked young. Jagger vaguely remembered seeing him earlier at Takashimaya Mall among the survivors who had gathered there. He had been quiet then, keeping to the edges of the crowd.

Now he stood staring.

“Yo-you’re one of the newcomers…” the Bastion hunter said shakily, his eyes darting between Jagger and the corpse on the ground. “Why’d you kill him? Sh-Shin Lu said we’re supposed to work together.”

‘Kill him. He will expose you.’

Ophilia’s voice slid into Jagger’s mind like venom.

Jagger didn’t move.

Inside his skull, panic erupted.

‘Fuck. Fuck. Why? Why now?’

“It’s not what it looks like,” Jagger said quickly, forcing calm into his voice. He pointed toward his injured arm. “He was about to attack me. I just reacted. He saw I was injured.”

The Bastion hunter looked down at the corpse again.

His expression twisted with pain and confusion.

“I… I…”

“Look, kid,” Jagger said, raising both hands slowly in a gesture meant to calm him. “What’s your name?”

“H-Hikaru.”

“Hikaru,” Jagger repeated gently. “I’m Jagger.”

He forced a reassuring smile.

“We’re on the same side now. I promise you, it’s not what it looks like. Let’s focus on the Troll King.”

He took a step forward.

Hikaru immediately stepped back.

The young man’s hands trembled violently. His sword shook so badly the blade rattled in the rain like a tuning fork.

“Stay back!” Hikaru said weakly, his voice rising.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep