SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

"Roar."As soon as Kent appeared, an evolved beast pounced on him.

"Buzz."Kent dry-humped that evolved beast with a single punch.

Kent's heart was shocked, "How is my fist so powerful?" Kent didn't care so much and continued on.

But soon he kept the matter aside and began his hunt.

He had slain over twenty divine beasts that day, each battle pushing him closer to his limit, but also revealing an unexpected strength within him.

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As the night settled in, Kent found a massive tree with a wide trunk and sturdy branches, offering some semblance of shelter. He gathered wood, kindling a fire that soon roared to life, casting flickering shadows all around him.

The flames danced, illuminating the surrounding area in a warm, golden glow. He sat down, leaning against the tree, the crackling fire his only companion in the vast, eerie silence of the forest.

Just as he began to relax, his keen ears picked up the faintest rustling sounds in the distance. Something was moving through the underbrush, something large and numerous.

His senses sharpened instantly, and he scanned the darkness beyond the reach of the firelight. The air around him thickened with tension, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Whatever was out there was closing in fast.

Within moments, they emerged from the shadows—more than twenty evolved beasts, their eyes glowing with a malevolent light as they surrounded him.

Kent's heart sank as he recognized them. These were the same beasts he had fought and killed during the day, but now, they were back, alive and seemingly more vicious than before. It was as if the forest itself was playing some cruel game, resurrecting the dead to torment him further.

A low, guttural roar erupted from one of the beasts, the very same one that Kent had downed with a single punch earlier. Its eyes blazed with fury, and with a deafening roar, it led the charge. In an instant, all twenty beasts lunged at Kent, their claws and fangs bared, driven by an unnatural bloodlust.

Kent's mind raced as he braced himself for the onslaught. The realization hit him like a lightning bolt: this was why the Demonic Mountain Forest was so feared at night.

The beasts didn't just die; they came back with a vengeance, stronger and more determined to kill than ever. No wonder so many had perished here, unable to escape the relentless cycle of death and resurrection.

But Kent was not like the others. He was driven by something far more powerful than fear—rage.

His rage fueled his every move, lending strength to his limbs and fire to his fists. He met the first beast head-on, his punch landing with a bone-crushing force that sent it crashing to the ground, lifeless once again. But there was no time to savor the victory; another beast was already at his back, its claws raking across his skin, tearing through flesh and muscle.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Kent spun around, his fists moving in a blur as he delivered blow after devastating blow. The beasts kept coming, but Kent fought with the fury of a man possessed.

He moved like a storm, his attacks precise and deadly, taking down one beast after another. The ground beneath him became slick with blood, but he didn't falter. Every time a beast fell, another took its place, and Kent realized that this was not just a fight for survival—it was a battle of endurance, a test of his will to live.

Minutes felt like hours as the brutal fight wore on. His muscles screamed in protest, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his vision blurred from the exertion. But Kent refused to give in. His fists, driven by rage and the will to survive, were unrelenting. He was drenched in blood, but none of it was his own.

His body moved on sheer instinct, every punch, kick, and strike delivered with deadly precision.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the last beast fell to the ground, its body twitching before it went still. Kent stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He let out a primal scream, a cry of triumph and exhaustion, the sound echoing through the forest. He had done it. He had survived.

As the night deepened, Kent collapsed against the tree, the fire still crackling beside him. The adrenaline slowly drained from his system, leaving him drained but strangely at peace. He had faced death and won, but he knew this was only the beginning of the trials that awaited him. Still, for now, he would rest.

When dawn finally broke, the first rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy, Kent stirred from his sleep. The forest was eerily quiet, as if the battle of the previous night had been nothing more than a dream.

The bodies of the beasts he had slain were gone, leaving no trace of the bloody struggle that had taken place. But Kent knew better. It hadn't been a dream. The scars on his body and the ache in his muscles were proof of that.

With renewed determination, Kent rose to his feet, and went to hunt the beasts.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

As time passed, Kent again killed every beast in his sight and began getting ready for night fight.

Now, as the last of daylight disappeared and the oppressive weight of night settled in, Kent braced himself for what was to come. He knew they would return.

The beasts were out there, waiting, biding their time until the darkness was complete. He could feel it in the air, a tension that was almost palpable, as if the very forest was holding its breath.

And then it happened. Out of the darkness, one by one, the evolved beasts began to emerge. But this time, there were more of them. Kent's heart sank as he counted them.

Not just the twenty he had killed today, but also the twenty he had slain the night before. Forty in total. Forty snarling, bloodthirsty beasts, their eyes fixed on him with deadly intent.

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