Ian ducked behind a crumbling pagoda pillar, heart thudding so loud it felt like a war drum in his chest. He snagged a handful of dusty rubble and let it slip through his fingers, watching each grain fall like a countdown to disaster.

Okay, Ian, he chided himself, keep it together. He drew a ragged piece of cotton over his forehead to hide the faint glow of his bloodline aura. His robes, once pristine, were now frayed and smeared with ash. He tugged the hood low, willing the shadow to swallow his face.

A breeze whispered through broken tiles, carrying a scent like scorched iron. Ian’s pulse stuttered.

“Look sharp,” he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the shattered courtyard. “He’s gotta be here somewhere…”

And then, there. Standing tall atop the ruined altar, silhouetted by a silver moonbeam, was Super Hunter Jun.

Glazed by moonlight, Jun looked less human and more a living statue carved from obsidian. His armor plates reflected the night like polished jet, each edge trimmed in jade filigree that pulsed softly with absorbed spiritual energy. A long, flowing sash of black silk snapped in the wind, and his eyes, oh, those eyes, glowed like twin lanterns that could sear through flesh and lies alike.

Damn, Ian breathed. He’s even worse than the rumors.

Jun’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “Ian,” he called, voice smooth as river stones grinding together. “I’ve been hunting cultivators for years, but none as… elusive as you.”

Ian froze. The name alone carried weight, Hunter Jun, the Villain’s Bane, the man who glazed whole clans into submission without leaving a mark. Jun didn’t just kill cultivators; he erased their legacy.

Ian pressed his back against cold stone, tried to steady his thoughts.

Disguise… blending in… okay. He forced his shoulders to slump, pretending fatigue. He loosened the hood enough to let a strand of greasy hair slip out and hung his head as if he craved sleep more than life itself.

Jun advanced, each step crunching broken tile. Moonlight clung to his blades, twin spirit-forged cleavers that sank shadows into the ground. As he moved, that jade filigree seemed to crawl, veins glowing with a hungry light.

“Thought you could hide your aura,” Jun said, voice rippling through the night. “Thought you could outsmart me.”

Ian swallowed. He cracked a grin—a crooked, half-mad thing. “Who, me? I’m just a poor, tired vagabond trying to find my next bowl of noodles.”

Jun laughed, low, amused, killing-lane laughter that echoed in the empty courtyard. “Dishonest and desperate. Perfect.” He lifted one cleaver, held it casually across his shoulder. “But I admire effort.”

Ian’s pulse whirred. He inched backward, testing the distance. The moonlight glinted off Jun’s armor, painting him like a demi-god rising from the ashes. To any onlooker, Jun was untouchable, glazed in power, radiating control.

“Wanna talk?” Ian rasped, voice shaky. “I got secrets worth…”

“My favorite kind,” Jun stepped close enough that Ian could see a flicker of hunger in those glowing eyes. “Spill them.”

Every instinct screamed for Ian to run, dive through the broken altar stairs, vanish into the bamboo grove. But he forced himself to stay. He had a trick or two left, and if Jun wanted secrets… well, maybe Ian could trade a few lies for a chance at escape.

Here goes nothing, he thought, plastered the friendliest grin he could muster under the hood, and braced himself to dance with the deadliest hunter alive.

Ian’s lungs burned as he surged blood through every vein, feeling the weight of every near‑death moment sharpen his senses. He pulled in a ragged breath, and with a guttural roar, unleashed his Reaper Chaos Angel Form.

Wings of crackling black energy shredded the air behind him, each feather a serrated blade of swirling void. His eyes flashed crimson slits, pupils darting as if scanning dozens of threats at once. Chaos sigils danced across his skin, glowing brighter with every heartbeat.

Jun’s jade‑filigree armor flared in response, the obsidian plates rippling like liquid night. He shifted into his Super Hunter Form, muscles knotting beneath the steel, spirit‑forged cleavers fusing to his forearms, turning his fists into twin guillotines of pure intent.

They circled each other on the cracked marble floor, moonlight slicing through Ian’s dark wings and dancing on Jun’s blades. A gust swept loose rubble around their feet.

“Your chaos reeks of desperation,” Jun called out, voice low and deadly calm. “You think you can out‑kill a hunter?”

Ian flexed his wings, flaring them wide. Hell yeah, he thought. Let’s see who’s desperate now. He charged, wings slicing air like twin scythes. With a whip‑snap of his arm, a shadow‑blade shot forward, black lightning tearing at Jun’s flank.

Jun caught the blade mid‑air with one cleaver, sparks blossoming where metal met void. He twisted, launching a rippling shockwave that slammed Ian back into a fallen column. Stone shards sprayed like hail.

Ian grunted, but the chaos sigils flared hotter. No stopping now. He tensed and detonated the sigils in a radial burst. The air shimmered as space itself warped, hurling Jun off balance.

Jun landed on one knee but smirked. “Nice trick,” he panted, arms folding into an X‑guard. “But can you handle this?” In a blur, he spun both cleavers overhead and dove.

Ian blinked, and then instinct took over. He summoned two more shadow wings from his back, crossing them into a shield just as Jun cleaved downward. The clash sent a thunderous boom through the courtyard; even the broken pagoda trembled.

Gotta counter, gotta counter… Ian muttered, eyes narrowing. He let the wings absorb the strike, then funneled chaos energy into his fists. With a roar, he smashed his gauntleted hands into Jun’s gut, charged like the impact of a meteor.

Jun grunted, armor cracking, but he gripped Ian’s wrists, hefting him overhead. “You’re strong,” he said, voice tight. “But strength without control!” He threw Ian aside like a ragdoll.

Ian tumbled twenty feet, hit the ground hard, and rolled to his feet in one fluid motion. Wings folded back into a cloak of shadows. He hissed, tasting blood and adrenaline.

“Control?” Ian spat. “I’m the damn storm that breaks your rules!”

He lunged, chaos wings fanning out like a dozen scythes. Each feather whipped toward Jun, shredding air. Jun responded by spinning his arms in a whirl of jade‑rimmed steel, creating a barrier that sliced through feathers that dared touch. Sparks and darkness tangled in mid‑air.

Their weapons met again, Jun’s cleavers against Ian’s shadow talons. Metal screeched against void as they grappled, sparks and rifts of darkness tearing the courtyard floor. Ian roared and slammed his shoulder into Jun’s chest, sending the hunter skidding back.

Jun recovered in a heartbeat, cleavers now crackling with absorbed chaos energy. “Bold,” he grinned, stepping forward. “But reckless.”

He lunged, blades arcing in a perfect cross‑slash aimed at Ian’s wings. Ian twisted, letting one wing take the hit. Pain seared up his arm, but he seized Jun’s leading blade, chaos tendrils wrapping the steel and yanking it down. The force spun Jun off balance.

Ian didn’t hesitate. He drew both fists back, chaos energy coalescing into twin black orbs. “This… ends… now!” he shouted, hurling the orbs in a double shot.

The orbs tore through the air like collapsing stars. Jun flung both cleavers up defensively, but the blasts shattered his blades and sent him flying skyward, crashing through the broken altar’s roof. Dust and moonlight cascaded down.

Ian landed on shaking marble, wings drooping. He panted, every muscle screaming, chaos sigils dimming to embers. Silence fell, broken only by Jun’s slow, pained laughter echoing from the ruined tower above.

Jun’s voice drifted down: “Impressive… Reaper Angel. But remember… Hunters learn.”

Ian watched the rubble settle and felt the edges of his form recede. He flexed bruised fingers and whispered, “Bring it on, Hunter.” Then he disappeared into the night’s shadows…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep