The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

The children huddled together in a corner, their hollow eyes staring at the space behind the door through the partial gap. Zag walked in quietly, carrying a small, hidden bundle of food wrapped in cloth.

"Here, take this," Zag whispered as he knelt by the youngest of the group, slipping them a piece of bread and a small fruit.

The children looked up at him, their eyes wide with a mix of excitement and gratitude. Zag’s rough hands gently ruffled the kid’s hair before he stood.

"Zag, you shouldn’t be doing this," Gremlin said from the shadows, his voice laced with concern. "If they find out..."

Zag turned to him, a kind smile softening his worn face. "I know the risk. But I can’t just stand by and do nothing."

"But why?" Gremlin asked, frowning.

Zag’s smile grew wistful. "I don’t want to work here, but for my family, I have no choice." He glanced at the children, his gaze filled with quiet sorrow. "Since I can’t free you, I might as well provide the little comfort I can. You’re all like kids to me, alas I am here working as a bartender in a pub under evil guys."

"Can’t you work anywhere else?" Saber asked nonchalantly.

"I can, but they are more evil than Wolf Gang. At least these people follow law and order, unlike others who kill at the slightest argument," Zag answered and then laughed.

"You see, the entire Night Creak is plagued with filth, so you just need to choose the least filthy one."

Gremlin and Saber didn’t say anything more, just watched as Zag handed out the last of the food while looking at the kids tenderly. Despite the weight of their circumstances, Zag’s small act of kindness brought a fleeting warmth to the cold, grim basement.

While they conversed, ignoring them, I focused on my own work.

.....

Name: Luke Star

Class: Novice Huntsman Lv 3

Species: Human

Rank: Acolyte

[Stats]

Strength: 0.60→67

Dexterity: 0.82

Constitution: 0.4→49

Agility: 0.7

Perception: 1.58

Wisdom: 0.8

Willpower: 9.8

Mana Capacity: 1.5

Potential: 3

[Ability]

None

[Weapon Mastery]

Dagger Style (Novice): 89%→90

Archery (Adept): 20%

Swordsmanship (Novice): 70%

Unarmed Combat Mastery (Adept): 78% 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

[Spells]

None

[Talents/Blessings]

Death Sovereign

[The blessing from Death Wraith had been neutralized by a blessing from the Sovereign of Death, but skills are retained.]

[Skills]

[Shadow Step (Novice): 0%→80%]

[Soul Reap (Novice): 0%]

[Hunter Instinct (Novice): 0%→15%]

[Predator Gaze (Novice): 0→10%]

[Keen Insight (Novice): 0→10%]

[Spectral Vision (Novice): 0%]

[Death Embrace (Novice): 0%]

---

Rubbing my chin with one hand and grabbing a candy bar with the other, I observe my stats. A few of my skill masteries had gone up along with a slight increase in strength.

The world had finally designated me the rank of Acolyte. As for the Novice Huntsman level, I have gained 3 levels quite easily, but that’s only because it’s easier.

Leveling up a class by understanding is a double-edged sword. My class, Novice Huntsman, relates to hunting, killing, setting traps, and learning a few other things.

Killing three people gave me a deeper understanding of the workings of a hunter, making it easier to level up.

Classes like Swordsman, Spearman, and similar ones were easier to level up until their endpoint, unlike a unique class.

Ashton, who had the class Executioner of Justice, found it tough to level up.

"Hopefully, this will be enough to help me survive this crisis," I muttered under my breath, raising my left hand to take a bite of the chocolate bar I’d been saving. But as soon as I looked at it, my jaw dropped. Half of it was gone.

"What? Where did half the chocolate go?" I yelped, spinning around in panic. My eyes immediately landed on a certain blonde-haired culprit, who had a suspicious trail of melted chocolate lingering near their lips.

"You little brat! Don’t you dare eat my chocolates—especially mine!"

Chris blinked at me with big, innocent eyes and said, "But it’s just too tasty and yummy. Can you get us another?"

He even dared to put on this pitiful look, one that could probably melt a stone. My heart sank. Chocolates were my only comfort in this wretched situation, the one thing keeping my taste buds alive, and these kids, as well as the demon, had the nerve to aim for it.

Also, I am not ashamed to admit it.

I love sweets.

"You brat!" I growled, glaring at him.

"Lukas, don’t be so stingy. Let them have some," Gremlin chimed in, stepping forward to play hero. Chris darted behind him for cover, poking his head out just enough to stick his tongue out at me.

A vein throbbed dangerously on my forehead. My supplies weren’t for their whims! Normally, all of them were tied up and cuffed, but me being the guy who always prepares beforehand brought tools with which they cut their restraints.

I had carried that chocolate for emergencies. Actual emergencies! But no, these guys had to misuse it for chocolate theft.

"Don’t act like a kid," Saber said while putting a toffee into his mouth, which he grabbed from me.

He walked toward me to tap my shoulder, trying to calm me down. But before I could respond, a loud, resonating boom tore through the air.

The ground beneath us shuddered violently, sending us stumbling.

"Kyakk!" Chris shrieked, clinging onto Gremlin like a barnacle.

I barely managed to stay upright when the world started vibrating.

---

In the dimly lit Paragon Tavern, the air was thick with smoke, flickering lights casting long shadows across the room as Syro and Vargas sat deep in conversation. They shared a smug sense of satisfaction, relishing their plans and the control they held over their rivals.

Syro poured them another drink, the clinking of glass barely audible over the low hum of conversation and occasional laughter from other patrons.

"That boy, he’s gonna surely fetch a good sum."

"Of course he would," Vargas chuckled, emptying the cup of bloodline and slamming it on the table.

"I have already sent his portrait to the Matron of Lust Clan."

"The Matron?" Syro’s eyes widened in shock.

Vargas nodded briefly and spoke, "You might not know, but the Matron is interested in buying slaves who have otherworldly faces and are of a young age."

Vargas, noticing Syro’s questioning look, proceeded, "Apparently, she is grooming a husband."

"Among all the slaves, the one who will be able to pass through her trial will be accepted by her as husband and become the Patriarch!"

Syro swallowed his saliva, his hands trembled, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

"This—BANG!"

But then a low rumble cut through the air, a tremor that made the floor beneath them shudder faintly.

The glasses started emitting a clinking sound and fell off the table, then kept bouncing after hitting the ground.

Vargas looked up, frowning. "What was that?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

Syro waved it off, though he felt a flicker of unease. "Probably some scuffle outside," he muttered, glancing toward the entrance.

But the tremor grew stronger, and the floor vibrated more violently as dust sifted from the ceiling. Glasses rattled, and the murmurs of conversation quickly shifted to startled gasps.

Suddenly, a deep, ominous bell began to toll.

A sound that resonated through the walls, sending a chill down Syro’s spine. Patrons exchanged uneasy looks, and in an instant, the revelry turned to panic as another quake rolled through, stronger than before.

Syro and Vargas exchanged tense glances, both rising from their seats. "Stay close," Syro muttered, leading the way out of the tavern that was filled to the brim with demons squeezing one another.

Together, they pushed through the chaotic crowd, stepping out into the open street, only to be met with a sight that froze them in place.

Above the town, the sky had been swallowed by a monstrous shadow, an abyssal darkness that blotted out the stars. The huge body twisted and writhed, stretching like dark wings, engulfing the town in an unnatural, suffocating gloom. A chilling silence fell, broken only by the horrified whispers of townsfolk, whose faces were lit by the dim glow of torches.

The shadow grew, its edges emitting tentacles fraying like tendrils of smoke, and from within its depths, hollow eyes began to emerge.

Eyes that were vast and empty, filled with a malevolent hunger. A deep, guttural wail echoed through the night, sending an instinctive shudder of fear through the crowd.

Spectral bodies began to take shape within the darkness, ghastly, twisted apparitions with faces contorted in agony. They poured out like a wave and attacked the demons, sucking the intense emotions within them to feed.

Syro took a step back, gripping his axe tightly as his usual confidence faltered. "What... what is this?" he stammered, feeling the overwhelming dread in the air.

Vargas’s face was pale, his eyes wide.

"It’s an abyssal monster that has broken through the barrier, allowing abyssal monsters and species to run rampant," he whispered, barely audible over the rising cacophony.

"Control your emotions. The more distressed you feel, the more they will be attracted to feed on your intense emotions."

As if in response to his words, the shadow descended lower, a monstrous form emerging at its heart. The creature was a twisted nightmare given flesh, its body an oozing mass of darkness that shifted and writhed, with countless gnarled claws and teeth glinting hungrily in the darkness.

The air grew frigid, thick with dread so potent it felt suffocating, and as the creature loomed closer, it became clear that it would consume the entire town.