The Primal Hunter

Pain.

That was the first feeling that the King thought of as he awoke. He had temporarily lost consciousness from the accursed shard explosion that was the Great White Stag’s final gift. His entire body was hurting. The Nest Watcher’s curse and the detestable energy of the Horde Leader were still present even now… no, even more potent now, as they had mixed with the dark powers in the explosion. They had somehow been corrupted by whatever had corrupted the Mooncore to begin with.

The first thing he saw upon regaining vision was the human attempting to land a blow. Preposterous. He raised his hand and planned on blowing the arm of the human off, but what came out was only a slight wave of force that forced his attacker back.

Why? Why was he so weak? Was he truly that damaged? He attempted to stand up but found himself stumbling. Struggling. He was hurt. Truly hurt. The blow to his stomach had only been a mild annoyance. It would take time to heal, but it didn’t impede him much.

This, however, was different. The King tried supporting himself with his left arm but found nothing. It was gone. He then remembered that he had tried to rip the shard out before it exploded… losing the arm in the process.

This was unacceptable. For a human, a weak human, to do this much damage.

Finally managing to get up, he lay his hazy gaze upon the human who was still standing. The King’s vision was lowered significantly, and everything appeared to be covered in a layer of fog. No doubt a demerit caused by the dark mana.

The King didn’t have time to stabilize himself before the man charged. Slower than before for sure, but the King was also far slower. The creature felt like his limbs were several times heavier, and every movement required excessive exertion.

The human brought down his dagger as he tried to stab the King, but he managed to block it with his ivory claw. He struggled to counterattack, having only one arm as he attempted a kick, one the human easily avoided. Using his other hand the hunter landed a punch on the King’s chest, hurting his own fist as much as the King.

At least it appeared so until the King felt the intrusion of harmful foreign energy from where the blow landed. Poison. The damned human had inflicted even more toxins upon contact, injecting only a sliver of poison, but even that was enough to be an issue for the already struggling creature. To make it even worse, the energy agitated what was already ailing him.

However, the hunter wasn’t the only one who managed to land attacks. Right after he punched, he was forced to back away a bit, as the King released yet another blast of force, hitting him in the shoulder, blasting him backward. He felt his shoulder dislocate from the blow but swiftly popped it back in place. The pain was barely registering.

The King observed the human and felt disbelief. The hunter in front of him was not despairing. He was not even showing any signs of exhaustion or exasperation. Instead, he grinned through the pain as his broken limb was restored. Smiled, despite his imminent demise.

Before this day, the King could count the number of times he had experienced actual pain on one hand. He had been born in a small world and had increased in power from the environment alone. Born at D-grade, he was superior to all other beings and swiftly suppressed them all.

He was an existence that believed this forest to be beneath him. He had lived in this forest for less than a decade when the quest from the system came. To battle with the other Beast Lords of the forest to claim the title of King, and ultimately have the opportunity to escape the world he found himself in.

An opportunity he happily accepted as he subdued the other Lords. With the help of the system he imprisoned them in dungeons and took his rightful place as King of the Forest. He killed all the other enlightened ones in the world, none of them even close to E-grade beforehand. The stage was prepared, and this entire tutorial was just a farce he had to be done with.

After becoming King, he also got a follow-up quest that made it clear that he didn’t have to. After the tutorial’s conclusion, the entire area he was in would cease to exist, and he would be able to leave. Leave to the new universe that was just integrated into the

opportunity to leave. A chance to explore an entirely new world and grow. The ability to conquer

the survivors were never meant to encounter the King. He had sat on his throne and knew that he just had to wait. But it all changed when the first Beast Lord fell. The stupid badger that he had

fight and only knew the results, but it was

something he never expected happened. The hateful Great White Stag died. The King knew little of the dungeons’ interior, but he always had the feeling that

the Great White Stag. So when he saw that it had died, he saw it more as a blessing than anything else. In all honesty, his

Though it appeared he had managed to show a bit of his worth through the small marble of dark cursed mana he had been

had even managed to give the King a wound, one it had paid with its tusk to inflict. After the pig died, it had been time to meet the human. His quest updated, and he found himself forced to allow the human the chance of surrender. To leave for the world beyond. Even now, he had the option to allow for the human’s survival for greater

how to during this brief period. He had learned that these humans, especially this one, had a great talent for growth, so he wanted not

belief the King would crush with everything he had. He would make the human despair before he

awry. The weak human had indeed been weak. Defenseless. His most potent attack blocked easily, all his effort thwarted as he was beaten down again and again. Until he counterattacked, and the King, for the first time, felt a feeling he never had before:

of death. His first time learning that death in the tutorial was even an option for him. That it wasn’t just a pipedream, an illusion dangled in front of the survivors to give them hope. It was a

slow, and his natural armor already shattered and broken. Rotten. Even his magic, the thing he had

a whisper of its usual might. With the curse, his wounds, the energies, and everything

once more - a strike that was faster and stronger

kick there, and a bit of poison from Touch of the Malefic Viper invading him at times. It was a desperate struggle from both parties as

took a single attack for every ten or twenty he landed. The disparity was apparent to any, even the fighters. The King, even in his extremely weakened state, was still faster and stronger than Jake. He should win out, but he didn’t. The difference was in skill

Even the Horde Leader struck unconscious by a single full-power blast, with a golden claw more than enough to slay ten of it with a single swipe. His innate

thought. Who was he? He was the King of the Forest, the mightiest existence in this world. He had never lost; he had never feared and now was certainly not the time to begin

had shown him his own limitations. The King was not stupid. Far from it. He had simply grown ignorant and childish, full of hubris from too many

front of him. A weird feeling he had only perhaps ever felt for the Stag. He respected yet hated the human for all the damage

pushed Jake backward, creating space between them once more. When the hunter lowered his arms that he had used to block, he saw the

I have grown complacent. I thank you, human. I did not wish to do this… but you

resigned himself to end

heard as the mask covering the King’s face that had otherwise been unblemished now fractured. Jake hesitated for a moment to see what was happening and decided to wait cautiously at a

more, his dignity restored. His crown of thorns started giving off a strong sense of power and majesty, aiming to suppress Jake. And then the

didn’t know what he expected to see beneath. But what he saw undoubtedly would never be that. For he saw nothing. It wasn’t darkness; it was just…nothingness - something his mind couldn’t