## I. The King's Message
Zack observed the Red Forest with a stillness bordering on the supernatural. Above him, the crimson-tinged sky, bathed by a blood moon, lent the Red Continent its cruelest splendor. He didn't need to look around to know he was surrounded; he felt thousands of eyes fixed on the back of his neck, an invisible pressure that would make any ordinary man crumble.
With a calm bordering on insult, Zack walked thirty paces ahead of his group. He didn't seek cover, didn't analyze the terrain for tactical advantage. He simply sat on the ground, crossing his legs in a meditative posture, and waited.
— What is he doing? — K hissed, her voice laden with growing anxiety. — He let his guard down! He's exposed, in the middle of nowhere... There are no rocks, no trees, nothing to defend the flank. He's an open target!
K sought answers from Lyra, the group's most strategic mind, but what she found left her even more confused. Lyra was laughing. It wasn't a laugh of despair, but a genuine, almost amused smile. Mira also smiled, and even the Boy, infected by the mothers' lightness, let out a giggle.
Zack wasn't mocking Ygon's army out of pure arrogance; he was sending a silent message to his companions: *"I am here"*. By making the situation absurd, he disarmed his allies' fear.
K, however, couldn't relax. She noticed Zack had his eyes closed and decided, for the first time, to try to read his aura without the barriers he usually imposed. What she felt made her gasp.
*"Why didn't I do this before?"*, she wondered, a shiver running down her spine.
Beside her, Nati was in a state of absolute terror. The ex-general was sweating cold, her eyes wide as if facing the personification of death itself. Zack had hidden his true nature for too long, but now, he unleashed it like a black tide. Zack's aura didn't just fill the field; it swallowed everything, extending into the depths of the forest. It was a macabre energy, with the putrid smell of an ancient corpse and the oppressive density of the Void mist.
Zack knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't considered the most dangerous person in the world by chance.
## II. The General of the Golden Age
In a few seconds, the silence was broken by the materialization of thousands of soldiers. They emerged from the shadows, forming a spiral of death around Zack. There were a thousand, two thousand, five thousand combatants. There were citizens of the Red City, mercenaries from distant countries, and warriors from forgotten villages.
Some laughed, underestimating the man sitting alone. Others sweated cold, recognizing the silhouette of the Black-Eyed Hunter. Among the soldiers of the Red City, the conflict was evident; many saw Zack as a Messiah, the deity who had saved their families and children from the abominations of the Void. Attacking the one who had once been their savior seemed like heresy.
Before discord could spread through the ranks, the crowd parted. Like a sea dividing before an inevitable force, the soldiers knelt.
General Blackmouth had arrived.
He was a man of approximately 50 years old, bald, with dark skin and a thick mustache that gave him an air of ancient authority. At 1.77m tall, his body was a map of tattoos: boats, skulls, and flowers adorned his skin. He walked shirtless, wearing only black pants and boots. On his back, it wasn't the scars that drew attention, but the word "BLACKMOUTH" written in crude calligraphy.
He was a living legend. A hunter from the golden age.
> **Technical Sheet: Blackmouth** > * **Bounty:** 680 million gold coins. > * **Reason:** Assassination attempts against the entire court and nobles of the Golden King. > * **Ranking:** #10 among the ten strongest hunters in the world.
Blackmouth approached Zack, looking down at him. The atmosphere changed instantly. The general's presence was like a physical weight that crushed hope. Lyra and Mira, who had been smiling, turned pale as snow. K felt her stomach churn; she had never heard of that man, but her companions' reaction told her everything she needed to know.
Nati lowered her head, the weight of guilt curving her shoulders. She knew her personal desire had brought that chaos upon the group.
The general opened his mouth, revealing a black, long, and grotesque tongue. But what paralyzed K's heart was what was tattooed on it: the number **10**.
— Who would have thought I'd be face to face with the world's greatest hunter... The King of Horror, the Black-Eyed Hunter, the Traitor of an Empire — Blackmouth spoke, his voice filled with a morbid excitement.
## III. The Blood Contract
— Done? — Zack asked, still with his eyes closed.
— Well, you're not the type to talk much. You must be the type to hit, my favorite — Blackmouth smiled, displaying his dark tongue. — Let's be direct: we want Nati. She's worth nothing to you, but she's worth a lot to us. We have no orders to kill you, and honestly, why would we bother someone like you if we can avoid it? So, are we clear?
It wasn't a proposal. It was an ultimatum. Either Zack handed over the general, or he became the official enemy of Ygon and everything Blackmouth represented.
— I understand... — Zack replied.
He began to rise slowly. As Zack stood up, his shadow seemed to grow, swallowing the campfire's light. Nearly two meters tall, he now looked down at Blackmouth. When Zack opened his eyes, the absolute darkness of his pupils met the general's gaze.
Zack's black energy became visible, clashing against the dark green aura emanating from Blackmouth. The air around them began to vibrate and crackle with the pressure of the spiritual conflict.
— So that's your choice... — Blackmouth said, narrowing his eyes.
— Yes — Zack replied, his voice sounding like a judge's verdict.
The wind blew hard, carrying the smell of ozone. The soldiers prepared their weapons; Zack's group went on high alert.
Suddenly, a sharp, deafening roar cut through the air, as if a creature was being torn apart. A black lightning bolt violently struck Zack's group at the exact moment he shouted:
— **COME, THUNDER!**
A dome of black thunder enveloped his allies, creating an absolute barrier. But, in a fraction of a second, before Zack could stabilize, a fist enveloped in massive black energy struck his face with the force of a meteor. It was Blackmouth's hand.
1. The impact was devastating. Zack was thrown far away, crossing the battlefield to the left and trampling dozens of soldiers as if they were rag dolls.
Blackmouth roared to his army, his voice echoing throughout the continent:
— **SOLDIERS!! KILL THEM ALL!!**