Chương 9: BLACK FOREST

In the periphery of the mysterious Black Forest, Alex and his grandpa, Wishton, embarked on a mission of hunting the demonic monsters lurking in the shadows.

The ancient forest, with trees seemingly whispering, set the scene. Grandpa Wishton, an experienced monster hunter, led the way. Alex, armed with a special family sword, felt a mix of excitement and responsibility.

After returning from the Obsidian clan nine years ago, Alex spent his time honing the family sword technique and strengthening his body. Cultivation began at fifteen years old until then one should strengthen their as much as possible.

As they ventured deeper, the air became peculiar – a hint of magic surrounded them. The forest responded, creating mysterious sounds in preparation for the impending monster encounter.

With a discerning gaze, Wishton warned, "Alex, get ready. A general-level monster is heading our way and very soon it will reach us "

"Got it, Grandpa," Alex replied, tightening his grip on the sword and started vigilantly observing his surroundings.

They reached a clearing, and Wishton signaled Alex to halt. "We're close," he whispered.

Similar to the cultivation levels of humans, demonic beasts are also classified into nine tiers.

Beginning with the minion rank as the lowest, the hierarchy progresses to general rank, followed by Alpha rank, demon lord, arch demon rank, demon king, demon emperor, Abyssal overlord, and finally, the Demi God demons, known for their unmatched strength. However, for thousands of years, no demon has reached the Demi God rank.

As they ventured further, a pack of wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with wild fierceness.

The leader of the wolf pack stood out with an imposing presence. Larger and more majestic than the others, this general wolf commanded attention with its sleek, silver-grey fur, catching the soft glow of the moon.

Its amber eyes reflected primal intelligence and an untamed spirit. As it advanced, the moonlight unveiled scars earned through battles fought in the wild – each scar narrating tales of survival and dominance, a testament to the harsh realities of untamed forest life.

"Alex, focus on the minions. I'll handle the wolf general," Wishton advised.

" Yes grandpa " said Alex.

The battle commenced with a flurry of hits and strikes. Grandpa Wishton moved with the ease of someone who had done this countless times. Alex followed suit, swinging his sword with unwavering determination.

Before taking action, Alex heard Wishton's voice, "Remember, Alex, look for the right time to strike."

"I see it, Grandpa. I'll strike when the moment is best," Alex replied and started moving towards the minion rank monsters.

As the first wolf lunged towards him, Alex's instincts kicked in. With a swift, practiced motion, he swung his black sword through the air, meeting the wolf's attack head-on. The clash echoed through the ancient forest, the resonant clash of metal against fur and fang.

A chorus of howls rose as more wolves joined the fray, circling Alex with a predatory intent. His movements became a seamless blend of agility and determination. Each swing of his sword was met with a howl, teeth bared, and claws unsheathed.

The moonlight revealed the intensity in Alex's eyes as he defended himself against the relentless onslaught. The blade danced through the air, a blackened glow illuminating the scene, creating an ethereal spectacle between him and the encroaching pack.

The once-silent forest now echoed with the sounds of the struggle. The rustle of leaves and the growls of wolves intertwined with the rhythmic swings of Alex's sword. The air crackled with the tension of a battle fought in the heart of nature's domain.

Despite the ferocious challenge, Alex stood his ground, his determination unwavering. The blade of his sword emitted an eerie black glow that illuminated the scene, casting shadows that danced with each deft movement. The wolves, cunning and relentless, continued to test his mettle.

As the final wolf succumbed to Alex's prowess, the forest sighed in hushed relief. When Alex looked back, he witnessed Grandpa Wishton piercing the head of the wolf general with a final stroke, signifying the end of the intense struggle against the formidable pack.

Catching his breath, Alex labored, the fading adrenaline revealing the harsh reality of the encounter.

Wincing with each movement, he glanced down at his body, now adorned with visible marks of the struggle. Deep scratches crisscrossed his arms, evidence of the wolves' relentless attacks.

His torn and stained clothing bore a gash on his cheek, mirroring the fierce determination etched on his face. His hands, blistered and bloodied, clutched the hilt of the sword that had been both his weapon and shield.

The realization of the battle's physical toll weighed heavily on Alex. Bruises adorned his torso, and his unsteady legs bore the strain of countless evasive maneuvers executed with precision.

Despite the pain, his eyes remained resolute, reflecting a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment. He stood among the fallen pack, a solitary figure in the moonlit clearing.

When the dust settled, Wishton patted Alex on the back. "You did great, my boy. Now I can send you to the Heavenly Star Academy without any tension."

Alex smiled upon hearing his grandfather's compliment.

Proudly, Wishton led the way as they started walking back to their estate. Tomorrow, Alex would be returning to the Obsidian clan, and from there, he would participate in the selection examination for the Heavenly Star Academy.

During their walk, Wishton advised, "Alex, you should always be careful in the academy and never let yourself become arrogant because of your strength."

"Yes, Grandpa," Alex replied promptly, eagerly anticipating the academy where he would encounter many formidable individuals.