Leon felt the weight of the Huntmaster's golden gaze on him.
The Razorback Lion's body still lay motionless on the arena floor, blood pooling beneath its thick fur. Nyx stood victorious, its violet eyes glowing faintly in the dim torchlight.
The silence in the chamber was heavy, every Shadow Hunt member watching in quiet respect—or was it caution?
Leon knew what this victory meant.
He had earned a place among them.
The Huntmaster finally spoke. "Your beast fights well. But skill alone won't keep you alive in the coming days."
Leon smirked. "I never planned to rely on skill alone."
The Huntmaster chuckled, clearly amused. He leaned back in his throne of bones and steel.
"Good," he said. "Then you're ready for your first assignment."
---
A Test of Shadows
Veyna stepped forward, tossing a sealed black scroll to Leon.
He caught it easily, breaking the wax seal and unfolding it.
The contents were simple.
"Beast: ???
Grade: ???
Objective: Capture or kill. Do not return empty-handed."
Leon frowned. "Not much information."
Veyna shrugged. "That's the test. If you can't track a beast without its details being handed to you, you don't belong here."
Leon's fingers tightened around the parchment. So this was how the Shadow Hunt operated.
No clear guidance. No hand-holding. You either succeeded—or you disappeared.
He looked up at the Huntmaster. "Any hints?"
The silver-haired man smirked. "Figure it out yourself. The hunt starts now."
Leon sighed. Of course.
"Fine," he muttered. "Come on, Nyx."
The Shadowfang Panther let out a soft growl and padded silently beside him as they left the chamber.
---
The Hunt Begins
Leon emerged from the underground stronghold into the dead of night. The city's streets were quieter now, most common folk long asleep.
But the Black Fang District never truly slept.
Shadows moved in the alleys, figures exchanging coin and whispered information. Assassins, mercenaries, and underground beast tamers roamed freely here.
Leon needed information.
And he knew exactly where to get it.
He walked to a small, hidden tavern at the edge of the district—The Hollow Fang.
A place where secrets were traded like currency.
The moment he stepped inside, the smell of cheap ale and smoke filled his senses. Low candlelight flickered over wooden tables, illuminating hooded figures and rough-looking men.
Leon approached the bar.
A heavyset man with a missing eye and a jagged scar across his nose glanced at him.
"What do you want, kid?"
Leon tossed a silver coin onto the counter.
"I'm looking for a beast," he said calmly. "Something rare. Something dangerous."
The bartender eyed him carefully before pocketing the coin.
"I might know something," he muttered, leaning in. "But it won't be cheap."
Leon smirked. "I wasn't expecting it to be."
The bartender chuckled. "Alright, listen close. There's been whispers of a phantom beast sighted near the ruins outside the city."
"Phantom beast?" Leon repeated.
"Aye," the man nodded. "No one knows what it looks like. Anyone who gets close never comes back. But those who've seen its shadow say it moves like a ghost. No sound. No tracks. Just death."
Leon's heart quickened slightly. This might be exactly what he was looking for.
"Where?" he asked.
The bartender hesitated, then slid a small, folded map across the counter.
"Two miles north of the city," he said. "Near the old shrine ruins."
Leon took the map and slipped it into his coat.
"Thanks."
The bartender grunted. "Don't thank me yet. If you actually find the thing, you might not live long enough to regret it."
Leon smirked. We'll see.
With that, he turned and walked out into the night.
The hunt had begun.
---