Lucifer moved at dawn.
The sky was still pale and cold, the sun barely brushing the peaks of the Noct Vale Highlands. Mist lingered low against the slopes, thin and restless, and the air carried that strange stillness that only Death Zones possessed, quiet but never peaceful.
He stayed within the outer regions, though even here the mana fluctuated unevenly.
Some patches felt stable. Others pressed faintly against his skin like a warning. He chose his hunting ground carefully, a small clearing ringed by uneven rocks and thorned brush. Behind him, the terrain sloped downward into fractured stone.
If something beyond his capacity appeared, he would retreat without hesitation.
He had no intention of gambling his life over pride.
After scanning the area twice, Lucifer prepared the bait.
Thanks to Anthony watching survival shows during his childhood, he knew a few basic hunting tricks.
He removed a portion of fresh meat from his storage bracelet. It had once been part of his remaining rations. His supplies had nearly run out; he had not expected his training to last this long.
Originally, he had planned to return to Creston City immediately after awakening.
Then the Spirit Pearl bound itself to him.
The Spirit Realm it provided was too tempting to abandon.
So he stayed inside the cave all this time.
And now, if he wanted to remain here for fifteen more days, he would need to hunt.
He placed the meat at the center of the clearing.
Then he drew a small knife.
The cut across his palm was precise and controlled. Enough to bleed, not enough to weaken him. He let the blood drip onto the meat, darkening it. He smeared some along its surface and allowed the scent to spread with the wind.
Monsters did not merely follow hunger.
They followed weakness.
Lucifer wrapped his palm tightly and slipped into concealment within the bushes.
He activated his Origin.
The translucent card shimmered brightly.
The world sharpened instantly.
Wind currents traced faint lines through the air. Loose gravel carried the memory of pressure. The smallest shift in the brush registered in his senses.
It felt as though he had become part of the world itself.
He sensed the mana fluctuations before he saw them.
Five distinct signatures.
Their mana moved together, heavier than wildlife, coordinated in rhythm.
Moments later, they emerged from the shadows.
The monsters were called Dusk Jackals, also known as Noct Vale Hyenas, one of the most common species in this region.
Hyena like in structure but warped by Death Zone influence. They had elongated limbs and split lower jaws. Thin black mist escaped from their nostrils.
Around peak F+ Rank pack predators.
Five of them.
The first approached cautiously toward the dried meat, sniffing lightly.
Its jaw twitched, then it lunged.
At that moment, Lucifer stepped forward instead of retreating.
His axe fell squarely onto the jackal's skull.
He heard a faint cracking sound before the jackal dropped instantly.
The remaining four reacted without hesitation.
Two flanked left.
One circled wide.
The last hung back, larger and broader, watching.
He was most probably the leader.
The second jackal leapt.
Lucifer pivoted smoothly and cut deep across its ribs. It screamed and stumbled, bleeding heavily.
The third darted low. Teeth grazed his thigh. The cut was shallow, but the pain flared sharp and real. His body reacted slightly too stiffly.
The fourth lunged next, jaws snapping. Lucifer twisted and buried the axe into its shoulder, forcing it back.
Then the leader stepped forward.
Larger than the rest. Broader across the chest. Its mana pressed heavier against his senses.
Around Mid E Rank.
It did not rush. It measured him.
Lucifer felt pride stir again, that dangerous confidence born from weeks of dominating simulations inside the Spirit Realm.
He wanted to end it decisively.
That desire almost cost him his life.
The leader lunged at him faster than he expected.
Its claws tore into his side, ripping through fabric and flesh. Heat flooded beneath his ribs. His breath shattered as he hit the ground.
The monster's weight crushed him.
It's jaws descended toward his throat.
Perceive flared violently.
The world clarified.
He saw the tension coil in the monster's hind legs. He saw the slight asymmetry in its bite alignment. He saw the fraction of overcommitment in its forward drive.
Instead of scrambling blindly, Lucifer shifted with purpose.
Its jaws closed on his shoulder instead of his neck.
Pain exploded white hot across his nerves.
He did not scream. He simply endured.
And in that moment, pinned beneath a predator, shoulder locked in its jaws, Lucifer drove the axe upward.
Neither wildly nor desperately.
But deliberately.
Steel split bone. It tore through jaw and into skull. The vibration traveled through his arms and into his spine.
The leader's body convulsed once.
Then stilled.
The remaining two jackals froze.
They saw their leader collapse.
Their instincts overruled their hunger.
Without hesitation, they turned and fled into the brush, vanishing into the highland mist.
Silence followed.
Lucifer shoved the corpse off him and rolled onto his back.
For several seconds, he could not move.
His chest rose and fell unevenly. Blood soaked into the dirt beneath him. His shoulder throbbed violently where teeth had crushed through his flesh.
He stared at the sky.
He had almost died.
The realization came slowly, heavily.
If that bite had shifted slightly lower, if he had misjudged by even a fraction, his throat would have been gone.
All his planning.
All his confidence.
All his training.
Ended in a nameless clearing over a pack of F Rank monsters.
His fingers trembled slightly as he swallowed a medical pill dry.
Heat spread through torn muscle. The bleeding slowed. The pain dulled but remained.
He let out a shaky breath.
That had not been strength.
That had been arrogance.
He had stepped forward when he should have maintained distance. He had overcommitted on rotation. He had wanted to dominate instead of dismantle.
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I was careless."
The words felt bitter in his throat.
The monkey scrambled onto his chest, trembling.
Lucifer steadied it.
Then it froze.
Its small arm lifted, pointing toward the ridge above.
Perceive was still active.
This time, it carried sound.
Lucifer sensed mana fluctuations far away in the direction the simian was pointing.
He stood up ,still in pain to check where the familar was pointing.
Hiding behind bushes he clearly saw three figures in the distance.
When he focused, their voices reached him clearly.
Three figures stood along the ridge.
Black reinforced robes layered across their bodies. Faint runes traced the seams. Their mana was suppressed with frightening discipline.
On their chests burned an emblem.
An abstract eye pierced vertically by a blade.
But Lucifer's focus was not on them.
Instead, his eyes locked onto a photograph one of them was holding in his hand.
Lucifer's old face stared back.
Rounder.Unawakened.Exposed.
His stomach tightened.
How?
One of them spoke, voice low and composed.
"The receptionist personally confirmed his arrival. He purchased a manual ticket to this place. So where the hell is he? I have been waiting here for that brat for more than a month and have not caught any sign of him."
Another replied, "An unawakened noble brat does not have the skill to disappear like that. He most likely has already been eaten by monsters or fallen into a spatial rift. We may just have to wait before being recalled."
The third's tone was colder.
"The bishop was clear. He is still here and alive. He has given us fifteen days. If we fail, we do not need to return."
"The boy is unawakened," the second continued. "He cannot have gone far. If he is here, he must be hiding nearby."
Lucifer's thoughts raced.
They still believed he was unawakened.
Good.
But how had they traced him here? Manual ticket. Receptionist. Creston.
His mind felt strangely scattered.
He was injured and bleeding at this moment.
They were more organized as well.
If they searched properly.
He swallowed.
For the first time since awakening, he did not feel composed.
He felt exposed.
If they scanned with higher detection methods.
If they entered deeper.
If they found the hidden domain.
His breathing nearly hitched before he forced it steady.
He remained perfectly still.
Not even the bushes moved.
They were not looking for a fighter.
They were looking for a frightened, unawakened noble.
He slowly shifted backward, careful not to disturb a single stone. He lifted the monkey into his arms.
Only when the terrain fully concealed him did he move.
The first steps tore at his injured ribs. Warm blood spread again beneath his clothing. His body was still not fully synchronized with its new strength.
He nearly stumbled but he didn't stop even for a moment .He kept moving steadily.
Behind him, their voices continued faintly.
Lucifer clenched his jaw.
He veered into broken terrain, forcing himself to think despite the pain.
Behind him, the three figures remained on the ridge, unaware that the prey they discussed had already slipped through their net.
Ahead, the Highlands deepened into shadow.
And as Lucifer disappeared into fractured stone and mist, one thought burned through his confusion.
This morning, he had believed himself the hunter.
He had baited.He had killed.He had survived.
But now, injured and bleeding, chased by unseen hands, one truth pressed cold against his spine.
In the Noct Vale Highlands,
Hunter and prey were not roles.
They were positions.
And they changed without warning.