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.

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

explore an entirely new world and grow. The ability to conquer new land

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 never cared for, but it was nevertheless worthy of note. For it was already

not a group. The King could not observe the fight and only knew the results, but it was enough to pique his interest. Only slightly, though, as

happened. The hateful Great White Stag died. The King knew little of the dungeons’ interior, but he always had the feeling that the Stag was scheming

the option to challenge his rule. To reach D-grade and dethrone him. A threat he hadn’t taken seriously from any of the Beast Lords besides the Great White Stag. So when he saw that it had died, he saw it more

dirty race. Though it appeared he had managed to show a bit of his worth through

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.

learned that these humans, especially this one, had a great talent for

before he died,

most potent attack blocked easily, all his effort thwarted as he was beaten down again and

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

the exchange. His arm heavy, his movements slow, and his natural armor already shattered and broken. Rotten. Even his magic, the thing he had always

it was only a whisper of its usual might. With the curse, his wounds,

it had a faint glow of gold as he attempted to strike the human once more - a strike that was faster and stronger than the ones before. But the human still managed to barely

scratch from a dagger here, a punch or kick there, and a bit of poison from Touch of the Malefic Viper invading him at times. It was a desperate struggle from

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 and

had never been pushed. Learning to fight had never been required of him, as a wave of his hand could kill most foes. Even the Horde Leader struck unconscious by a single full-power blast, with a golden claw

he? He was the King of the Forest, the mightiest existence in this world. He had never lost; he

of him had shown him his own limitations.

felt for the Stag. He respected yet hated the human for all the damage and harm he had caused him. But now it was time

between them once more. When the hunter lowered his arms that he had used to block, he saw the King’s glowing eyes looking

human. I did not wish to do this… but you forced me to. That in itself is an

said as he resigned himself

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 distance.

thorns started giving off a strong sense of power and majesty, aiming to suppress Jake. And then

he saw undoubtedly would never be that. For he saw nothing. It wasn’t darkness; it was