The Ox Demon King's attention was instantly drawn by the sudden announcent that echoed throughout his demonic hall.
He rose from his throne with a sharp motion, his glowing eyes narrowing as mories flashed through his mind — mories of the human who had managed to slip through his grasp.
That human… the one called Khan in this world.
He rembered their encounter vividly — the flash of power, the mont their blows collided, and the irritating mory of watching the human escape after only a brief exchange.
The mory was enough to make his muscles tighten and his blood boil.
That fight had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He had not been defeated, but neither had he achieved victory.
And for a warrior like him, that was unacceptable.
"I let him go once," the Ox Demon King muttered to himself, his voice rumbling like thunder within the hall.
"This ti, I will take his head."
His clawed fingers dug into the armrest of his throne as his aura flared, shaking the torches that burned along the walls.
He wanted a rematch.
He wanted vengeance.
He wanted Axton's life.
If that human was foolish enough to wander into his domain again, then he would personally crush him.
Raising his hand, he gave a cold, decisive order that reverberated through the hall.
"Find him," he commanded. "No matter what it takes. I want him brought before —dead or alive."
The demons kneeling before him instantly bowed. "Yes, my king!"
The Ox Demon King's crimson eyes glowed brighter.
A sinister grin stretched across his face.
"If he's within my territory," he murmured, "then this ti… he won't be leaving."
******
Far from the king's throne, deep within the dense and twisted expanse of the Black Forest, the atmosphere was heavy with unease.
The forest was a place where light rarely touched the ground, where even the wind carried whispers of malice.
Within its shadows, hundreds of demons were gathered — waiting, watching, whispering.
The tension among them was palpable.
For many, the re ntion of Axton's na brought a shiver down their spines.
They had all heard the rumors — how he had slain Quiala, one of the strongest of the ox demons, with frightening ease.
That story had spread through the demonic ranks like wildfire, each retelling more terrifying than the last.
So of them didn't want to have anything to do with the human.
They prayed they wouldn't cross paths with him.
But not all shared that fear.
A few were bold — or foolish — enough to think differently.
"I heard the human ran from the Ox Demon King," one demon said, his voice a low hiss. "If he escaped instead of fighting, maybe he's not as powerful as everyone says."
Another snorted in agreent. "Exactly. The so-called strongest human isn't so special if he runs from a fight."
A third demon joined in, his eyes glinting with greed. "It's said the rewards for this hunt will be given based on contribution scores, just like last ti. Whoever contributes most to his death gets the highest rewards."
"Then we just have to kill him," the first demon said. "Simple as that."
"Kill him," several others echoed in unison.
Their words carried arrogance. Ignorance.
They were laughing in the face of a storm they didn't understand.
But their laughter soon died.
The air changed.
A pressure—heavy, suffocating, and cold—descended upon the forest.
It was the kind of aura that made every living thing instinctively shrink away.
The birds stopped chirping.
The insects went silent.
Even the wind refused to blow.
Every demon in the clearing froze.
They didn't need anyone to tell them who had arrived.
They could feel it.
That overwhelming, suffocating presence.
The raw power that felt too heavy to belong to a re human.
Axton had entered the Black Forest.
He was here.
And he was coming straight for them.
"Wait… no way…" one demon whispered, his voice trembling. "That can't be him already."
But it was.
Through the thick mist, a lone figure erged.
A young man, walking with calm, steady steps, his hamr resting casually on his shoulder.
His expression was unreadable, but his eyes — those cold, piercing eyes — glowed faintly with power.
Each step he took echoed through the silence.
Thud!
Thud!
The demons could barely breathe.
For a fleeting second, they thought maybe they had been mistaken.
Maybe this wasn't the sa man they'd been talking about monts ago.
Maybe this was soone else — Khan, perhaps.
But when he finally stepped into the faint light that managed to pierce the canopy, their doubts vanished.
There was no mistake.
It was Axton.
The sa human who had humiliated Quiala and walked away unscathed.
He stopped several ters in front of them, lifting his gaze slowly.
His voice was calm and low, but each word carried the weight of an unspoken threat.
"What do you know about the Undead race," he asked, "and the City of Anarnia? I might spare you if you tell sothing worthwhile."
His words sent chills crawling down their spines.
The confidence in his tone was terrifying, because it was the kind of calm that ca from absolute power.
The demons exchanged uneasy glances.
None of them dared to answer.
If this was really the man they called the strongest player, then the intelligence they'd been given had underestimated him by a long shot.
His aura alone was enough to make their knees weak.
The first instinct of every demon there was to flee.
But none of them could move.
Sothing deep inside told them that if they turned their backs on him, if they even tried to run, their deaths would co instantly.
"Is… is that guy… really human?" one stamred, unable to look away.
"It feels like… I'm forgetting to breathe," another said, clutching his chest.
"Tch… I can't do anything…" another muttered through clenched teeth, sweat running down his temples.
But then, one demon — either braver or more foolish than the rest — snapped.
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