Chapter 23: 1 Month of Hunting
[: 3rd POV :]
It had been one month.
Thirty long, relentless days since Daniel descended upon the Forbidden Continent, once a living nightmare for any unfortunate enough to enter it.
Now, it whispered his na in fear.
The skies above had shifted.
The winds no longer howled with freedom.
So of the monsters that once ruled the land had grown quiet, their hunting grounds now graveyards.
A shadow darker than night had swept across the continent, and its na... was Daniel.
In just a month, he had erased over a million monsters.
Daniel stood atop the remains of a shattered canyon—what was once a fortress of stone ruled by titanic, winged beasts whose roars could shatter cliffs.
Now, nothing remained but floating dust and cracked silence.
"Next," he muttered.
No celebration. No pause.
Just a purpose.
He had walked through searing deserts where molten worms twisted through glass dunes, only to find themselves drained of essence the mont they surfaced.
He’d crossed forests where monstrous spiders larger than houses spun webs that could snare dragons, only to be swallowed by the abyssal pull of a silent black orb that devoured spell, soul, and sky.
Thunderous ogres, shifting shadowbeasts, serpents with bodies that wrapped mountains—none had survived more than a mont in his presence.
Sotis he looked—and they died.
He walked through frost-bitten fields, through sunless jungles, and scorched obsidian valleys—crushing monsters not just with strength, but presence alone.
Everywhere he went, whispers followed.
"He’s coming—he erased an entire cliff village with a single breath!"
"I saw him... he looked at my kin, and they simply died. Without a touch!"
"He’s not a mortal!... He’s not human—he’s sothing else."
And yet Daniel remained indifferent. His voice was calm. His eyes were sharp.
He walked like soone who’d already seen the end of the world.
One of the beasts—a massive, scaled brute with a molten crown and a voice like lava—roared as it rose from the crater of a volcano.
"You dare enter my land, little fleshling?! I am the crowned death of the Fireblood Peaks!"
Daniel didn’t blink. He rely raised a hand, and the creature’s volcanic blood began to boil against its will.
Before the monster could finish a scream, its body was swallowed by a void, erasing it.
Another ti, in the frozen lands, frost serpents circled above him.
One sneered, coiling through the skies. "You don’t belong here, warmblood."
"I don’t belong anywhere," Daniel replied—and his voice alone turned the wind against them.
They were flung down, torn apart by the very snow they had once ruled.
Sotis they attacked—and the blow passed through him like wind through ghosts.
Other tis, he raised a hand, and the world itself responded in terror.
The winds would shape into lances, the earth would bend to crush, air would scream, and a single command would unravel all aning.
He moved through battlefields without slowing.
Thornstorms, divine flas, lightning barrages—all thrown at him in blind desperation.
Yet they either passed through his form, were swallowed into the endless pull of the void, or were sent screaming back with doubled vengeance.
The entire plains vanished when he uttered a single word.
Mountains collapsed under the pressure of his silence.
Forests rotted from within as his aura devoured their life.
Not once did he fall back.
Not once did he bleed.
"It’s still not enough
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