CHAPTER 53: CHAPTER 53: THE HUNT BEGINS

The snow fell softly across the Scandinavian tundra, each flake catching the ethereal glow of the Northern Lights that danced overhead. Evon stood at the edge of the research camp, staring toward the coordinates where Yena’s seal should have been—where her holy light should have pulsed like a beacon in the darkness.

But there was nothing.

Only empty ice and the whistling wind.

Commander Jaun’s voice crackled through the comm unit, urgent and strained. "Evon, we have a problem. The seal’s signature has vanished from the Arctic Circle. Completely gone."

Evon’s grip tightened on the device. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Twelve hours ago, we detected massive dimensional disturbances across seventeen different locations simultaneously. The Black Force launched coordinated strikes against convergence points in Asia, Europe, and North America. During the chaos, Yena’s signature simply... disappeared."

The cold wind bit at Evon’s face, but the chill he felt came from within. Through his connection to the four sealed goddesses, he could sense their distress—particularly Sythara’s draconic fury simmering beneath the surface.

"How many locations did they hit?" Evon asked, his voice deadly quiet.

"Seventeen confirmed attacks. We repelled most of them, but the simultaneous nature caused massive dimensional interference. Whatever they were really after, they got it."

Evon closed his eyes, reaching out through Destiny Resonance to the four orbs in his soul realm. Naia’s voice came first, calm but concerned.

"The light has been moved, Evon. I can feel her... but she’s distant now. Shielded."

Lyria’s flame flickered with anger. "They dare to interfere with our reunion?"

Veyra’s analytical tone followed. *"The attacks were a diversion. Classic misdirection warfare. While we defended known positions, they relocated the primary target."*

Sythara’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. "Then we hunt them down. All of them."

Evon opened his eyes, and those who saw him step back instinctively. Silver light poured from his gaze—not the gentle glow of Fate Sight, but something harder. Colder.

"Commander," Evon said into the comm, his voice carrying across the tundra with unnatural clarity. "Recall all available S-rank and above Hunters. Cancel defensive positions."

"Evon, what are you—"

"We’re done playing defense," Evon interrupted. "They want to hide Yena from me? They want to corrupt the convergence points and tear reality apart? Fine."

He turned toward the assembled research team, his coat snapping in the wind.

"It’s time to eliminate the Black Force entirely."

Within hours, the message went out across every Hunter communication channel, every government network, every emergency broadcast system on Earth.

Evon Wang’s voice, calm but carrying the weight of absolute authority, echoed in seven languages simultaneously:

"To the Black Force and their masters: You have interfered with forces beyond your understanding. You have hidden what belongs to me, and threatened the stability of this world. I am done waiting. I am done reacting to your moves."

A pause. In the background, the faint sound of wind and the hum of power.

"You have forty-eight hours to return Yena’s seal and surrender unconditionally. After that, I will come for each of you personally. There will be no mercy. There will be no escape. There will be no negotiation."

Another pause.

"You wanted to see true power? You’re about to get your wish."

Deep in the Amazon rainforest, in a chamber carved from living rock and sealed with corrupted runes, five figures stood around a pool of black water. Each wore the remnants of Hunter gear—armor twisted by corruption, weapons that pulsed with unnatural energy.

These were the Five Leaders of the Black Force. Once, they had been S-rank Hunters, protectors of humanity. Now, they were something else entirely—beings twisted by Earth’s own spiritual pollution, fed by resentment and the whispers of entities from beyond the veil.

The first to speak was **Zhao Wei**, formerly an S-rank ice mage from Beijing. His skin was pale as death, his eyes like frozen stars. Ice that never melted coated his arms and chest.

"He’s coming for us," Zhao said, his voice echoing strangely in the chamber. "The broadcasts confirm it. Evon Wang has declared war."

**Maria Santos**, once a light-element healer from São Paulo, laughed—a sound like breaking glass. Her hair had turned white as bone, and shadows writhed beneath her skin where holy light used to flow.

"Let him come. We have what he wants most. The light goddess burns in our prison even now."

The third figure, **Kenji Nakamura**, a former earth-element fortress specialist from Osaka, cracked his knuckles. Stone and metal had fused with his flesh, making him more golem than man.

"Four seals," he rumbled. "He has four of them. If he gets the fifth..."

"He won’t," said **Elena Volkov**, stepping forward. Once Russia’s premier shadow-step assassin, she now seemed to phase in and out of reality with each movement. "Because we’re going to kill him first."

The final leader remained silent until now. **Ahmed Hassan**, formerly Egypt’s greatest barrier mage, was barely recognizable as human. His body flickered between flesh and pure darkness, and when he spoke, multiple voices emerged—his own and something else.

"The master grows impatient," Ahmed said, his words carrying weight that made the chamber’s walls crack slightly. "The convergence points are nearly ready. If Wang retrieves the fifth seal before we complete the ritual..."

"Then we stop playing games," Zhao said, ice beginning to form around his feet. "We face him directly."

Maria’s corrupted light flared. "Five against one. Even with his goddess fragments, he’s still mortal."

Elena’s form solidified, revealing scarred armor and twin blades that seemed to absorb light. "Then it’s decided. We hunt the hunter."

The attack came at dawn, three days later.

Evon had established a forward command base in the ruins of an old monastery in the Swiss Alps, using it as a staging ground to coordinate the search for Black Force strongholds. The morning mist was just beginning to lift when the temperature around the base plummeted.

Ice spread across the stone walls in seconds, not the natural frost of winter but something aggressive and alive. The Hunter support staff stumbled as the ground beneath them turned to treacherous ice.

Zhao Wei materialized from the mist, walking across the courtyard as if he owned it. His corrupted ice armor gleamed, and each step left frozen footprints that radiated cold like miniature blizzards.

"Evon Wang," Zhao called out, his voice carrying despite the wind. "You declared war on us. Here I am."

Evon emerged from the main building, the Blade of Fate already in his hand. The four sealed orbs pulsed against his chest, their combined power making the air around him shimmer with heat that fought against Zhao’s cold.

"You’re making this easy," Evon said, his voice calm but his eyes blazing silver. "I was going to have to hunt you down one by one."

Zhao spread his arms, and ice spears began forming in the air around him—dozens of them, each one gleaming with deadly precision.

"I was the strongest ice mage in Asia before the corruption found me," Zhao said, his breath coming out in clouds. "Do you know what I am now?"

"Dead," Evon replied simply.

The ice spears launched.

Evon moved.

The Blade of Fate flared with Lyria’s True Fire, and each spear that came near him instantly turned to steam. He closed the distance between them in heartbeats, Sythara’s draconic speed carrying him forward faster than human reflexes could follow.

Zhao raised a wall of ice—black ice, corrupted and wrong—but Evon’s blade, enhanced with Veyra’s cutting frequency and Naia’s piercing stillwater, sliced through it like paper.

"Impossible," Zhao breathed, stumbling backward.

"You forgot something," Evon said, raising his blade for the final strike. "I’m not fighting you alone."

The sword came down, blazing with the combined might of four goddesses and guided by the Eyes of Fate that saw every possible dodge, every desperate counter.

Zhao Wei, first of the Five Leaders, shattered like ice in spring.

The morning mist cleared, revealing only frost-covered stone and the fading echo of corrupted power.

Evon stood alone in the courtyard, breathing steadily. The first hunt was complete.

He activated his comm unit.

"Commander Jaun, this is Evon. Target One eliminated. Beginning search for Target Two."

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