Silence dominated the battlefield.

The shattered sky slowly began repairing itself.

Fragments of floating islands continued falling from above.

Dust clouds rolled endlessly across the ruined landscape.

Yet nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

The gathered B-rank hunters remained frozen in place.

Their minds were still struggling to process what they had witnessed.

An A-rank existence.

Erased.

As though it had never existed.

Amon stood amidst the devastation.

The Winter Frost Blade slowly disappeared from his hand.

His gaze swept across the distant landscape.

The dungeon was not yet cleared.

Far from it.

Countless creatures still existed throughout this world.

Without turning around, Amon spoke.

"Moon."

The white-robed figure immediately appeared beside him.

Silent.

Motionless.

Awaiting orders.

Amon’s voice was calm, cold, and without the slightest fluctuation.

"Wipe them out."

Moon vanished.

Space rippled.

Then settled.

The clone had already disappeared.

Several B-rank hunters instinctively exchanged glances.

Even after everything they had witnessed, they still couldn’t understand what exactly the Monarch of Death was.

A subordinate?

A partner?

A summoned creature?

Nobody knew.

Far away.

Explosions immediately began erupting throughout the dungeon.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Entire mountain ranges shook.

Shockwaves spread through the world.

Every few seconds, another terrifying explosion echoed from somewhere in the distance.

The sounds came from every direction.

As though death itself was sweeping through the dungeon.

The President silently watched.

His expression remained complicated.

After several moments, he finally stepped forward.

The surrounding hunters immediately became nervous.

Nobody attempted to stop him.

Because everyone knew.

There was only one question left.

The President stopped several meters away.

His gaze remained fixed on Amon.

For a long moment, neither man spoke.

Then the President finally broke the silence.

"Why?"

Amon didn’t respond.

The President continued.

"With your strength..."

His voice became slightly heavier.

"You could have protected countless people."

Silence.

The wind swept across the battlefield.

Fragments of ruined stone tumbled into the abyss below.

The President stared directly at the black figure.

"Then why are you killing innocent people?"

Several nearby hunters became tense.

This was the question everyone wanted answered.

The Butcher.

A hero to some.

A murderer to others.

A monster to many.

No one truly understood him.

For several moments, Amon remained silent.

Then finally.

He spoke.

The voice beneath the mask was calm.

Almost indifferent.

"Pass down an order."

The President frowned slightly.

Amon’s gaze drifted toward the distant horizon.

"Anyone who commits crimes within Cold Moon District."

His voice remained emotionless.

"Will be wiped out."

The President froze.

Several hunters behind him widened their eyes.

The statement was absurd.

Arrogant.

Yet somehow...

After witnessing what had happened earlier...

None of them could laugh.

Because they knew.

He wasn’t making a threat.

He was stating a fact.

The President stared at him.

Trying to understand.

Trying to find some deeper meaning.

"Why?"

he asked again.

Amon didn’t answer.

The President frowned.

"Those people you’ve killed."

"Why them?"

Still no answer.

The President continued.

"Who gave you the authority to decide who lives and dies?"

Silence.

The Butcher never even looked at him.

The President’s expression gradually became more complicated.

For the first time in years, he felt powerless.

Not because he lacked strength.

But because he couldn’t understand the person standing before him.

The man seemed completely detached from everything around him. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

As though ordinary concepts no longer applied to him.

Then suddenly, space rippled.

A white-robed figure appeared beside Amon.

The Monarch of Death.

His robes fluttered softly.

Fresh blood stained parts of the fabric, but it was vanishing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The Winter Frost Blade rested calmly in his hand.

The clone stood silently.

Motionless and awaiting further instructions.

The President’s pupils contracted slightly.

Finished?

Already?

The dungeon was enormous.

Yet Moon had returned in mere minutes.

There was only one explanation.

Every remaining creature inside the dungeon was already dead.

Amon glanced at Moon.

Then nodded slightly.

The clone had completed his task.

The dungeon was cleared.

Completely.

Without another word, Amon placed a hand upon Moon’s shoulder.

The President immediately stepped forward.

"Wait."

For the first time, urgency appeared in his voice.

Amon didn’t react.

The President stared at him.

Countless questions remained unanswered.

Who was he?

Where had he come from?

What was his goal?

Why was someone this powerful hiding within Cold Moon District?

The President opened his mouth.

Yet before he could speak.

Space gave way, and the world distorted.

Close Yet So Far activated.

The surrounding hunters felt reality twist before their eyes.

Then...

Amon and Moon vanished.

Completely.

No ripple.

No trace.

Nothing.

Silence descended once more.

The wind continued blowing across the ruined battlefield.

The President stood motionless.

His gaze fixed upon the place where the two figures had disappeared.

For a very long time.

Nobody spoke.

Eventually, one of the B-rank hunters swallowed.

His voice sounded hoarse.

"What do we do now?"

The President remained silent.

His eyes slowly drifted toward the horizon.

Toward the countless shattered mountains.

Toward the battlefield where an A-rank monster had ceased to exist.

Then he recalled the final words spoken by the Butcher.

Anyone who commits crimes within Cold Moon District...

Will be wiped out.

A complicated expression appeared on the President’s face.

Fear.

Confusion.

Curiosity.

And perhaps...

A trace of understanding.

The Butcher had never asked for permission.

Never sought approval.

Never tried to justify himself.

He simply acted.

As though judgment itself had descended upon the district in the form of a butcher.

The President slowly exhaled.

Then turned toward the gathered hunters.

"Pass the message."

The surrounding B-rank hunters froze.

The President’s gaze became serious.

"Every organization."

"Every family."

"Every hunter."

His voice echoed throughout the ruined battlefield.

"Make sure they hear it."

Far above them.

The shattered dungeon sky slowly began repairing itself.

And somewhere beyond the collapsing world...

The legend of the Butcher had just become infinitely more terrifying.

...

Author’s note: Did you enjoy the Chapter?

I spent a really long time writing the fight scene and everything that came with it. I hope it was satisfying enough.

Now we move on to grander things.

The world will begin opening up to us.

Thank you for coming this far.