The battles had ceased, and the lights around the arena dimmed. With the Summit of Sovereigns concluded and Evon Wang’s authority established before the watching world, the International Hunter Bureau transitioned into a calmer rhythm. The duel had been a spectacle, but now came the diplomacy — quiet conversations, formal receptions, and the type of alliances forged not with fire and blades, but with measured toasts and steady nods.
Tonight was a rare reprieve from war—a formal yet relaxed dinner gathering held within the glass-domed garden hall above IHB Headquarters in Seoul.
Decorated with hanging lanterns and soft starlight-like runes, the place blended technology with gentle nature. Vines wrapped around steel lattice beams, enchanted to bloom on command. A handful of wind sprites dotted the corners of the room, keeping the air cool and fragrant.
The long central table was suited for only this occasion — a rare convergence of the seven National Hunters, Evon, and key global leaders of the Rift Defense Coalition.
Fang Jihai stood near the head of the table, dressed in a charcoal robe embroidered with obsidian thread, his expression as stern as ever but his tone relaxed.
Evon, seated beside him, wore a simple high-collar coat. No weapons. No aura. Just quiet poise.
Across from them were Lucia Denholtz, Argus Val’Rane, Imari Laku, Zeph O’Tanaki, Rosa Leclair, and Kael Sova. Each world-renowned in their own right. Yet here, for a rare few hours, they were individuals—not symbols.
Wine glasses clinked, and warm dishes were passed around by unseen hands guided by floating silver trays. Conversation sparked softly at first.
Lucia Denholtz was the first to break the small silence.
"So, Wang," she said, with only mild formality, "how do you feel after surviving your first summit-scale political event?"
Evon glanced at her. "Slightly hungrier than I expected. Less bruised than I feared."
Kael Sova let out a soft chuckle, sipping what appeared to be clear mineral water—psychics required strict diets. "That’s a very fair scorecard."
Zeph O’Tanaki, the beast-symbiote controller from Oceania, leaned forward with the ease of a surfer more than a soldier. "Honestly didn’t think you’d hold your footing against Argus’ phase-cut. You timed that step like it was choreographed."
"Fate manipulation shows you the move," Evon replied. "But reacting to it in time... different thing entirely."
Argus nodded across the table, his silver hair catching the overhead glow. "He adapted too quickly. That’s something you don’t teach."
"I had good teachers," Evon replied plainly.
Imari, sipping from a carved obsidian gourd, said gently, "Not from this world, I would wager."
Evon didn’t confirm. He didn’t need to. They all knew now—his power came from another place, another reality altogether.
Fang Jihai stood, glass raised, his rarely-used smile barely there.
"Let me make it official."
Everyone turned to him. Even the floating trays paused in mid-lift.
"This world is uneven. This realm... unstable. Gates open each month wider and deeper. The middle realm presses closer. What we saw today was not just Evon showcasing strength — it was fate reminding us that when one Chapter ends, another begins."
He nodded toward Evon.
"Allow me to formally introduce the first-ever Commander of Earth’s Unified Hunter Vanguard — Evon Wang."
A few already knew it was coming. Others only nodded quietly.
Lucia raised her glass.
"To one not born into this fight... but chosen by it."
"To the bridge between realms," Argus added.
"To fate," Imari murmured respectfully.
The glasses clinked again.
The conversations flowed more loosely now. Rosa Leclair and Kael Sova debated under-the-table gear optimization. Zeph told a story about once fighting a jungle gate Leviathan while half-asleep. Argus dozed with his eyes open, still upright. Lucia and Imari discussed continent-to-continent mana differences.
Evon, eventually, stepped to the balcony alone.
The lights from Seoul twinkled below. The world was still turning.
Fang Jihai joined him.
"You handled it well."
Evon didn’t move. "Politics?"
"People," Fang corrected. "Across all ranks and nations, they need a reason to trust. You gave them that reason."
For a while, there was silence.
"You know," Fang said after a while, "the moment I saw your aura spike during the duel, I knew you’d tip the balance of everything. You’re not just another weapon."
"I’m a messenger," Evon said. "Of what’s coming."
Fang nodded. "And the next message?"
"The first seal," Evon replied. "You said it was in Mongolia?"
"We’ve detected resonance. It’s faint. But echoes match the residual aura your sword leaves behind — fused quintessence."
Evon spoke quietly. "It belongs to one of them."
"We leave in three days," Fang said.
"Good," Evon replied.
Meanwhile — The Amazon Basin, Undisclosed Coordinates
Thousands of kilometers away, under a moonless sky in the heart of the Amazon rainforest, things stirred in a forgotten clearing surrounded by blackened bark and leafless branches.
There, a massive stone ring stood half-buried in a sinkhole, carved with fallen runes older than recorded history. Its stone cracked occasionally with black light.
Surrounding it was a gathering.
Men in black uniforms stood in perfect lines, faces blank behind mirrored visors. Each uniform bore a jagged insignia — a shattered world.
They were the **Black Force** — the worst remnants of Earth’s own corrupted spirit. Not demons. Not monsters. But humans saturated with resentment and drawn toward destruction by the world’s own climate of decay.
A figure approached the ring. His coat flapped soundlessly in unholy air. His presence darkened the light of nearby torches.
His name was never spoken — he had no need of one anymore.
Behind him stood the High Executors of the Black Force.
"The resonance has begun," one said. "The earth is waking. That... thing... has begun unlocking the old world threads."
The leader said nothing for a while.
"He found strength through love," he murmured. "How quaint."
Another Executor asked, "Shall we act now?"
The leader looked up at the ring — where something glowed with crackling red energy.
"Let him unlock a few seals," the leader said slowly. "His goddesses hold the keys our master must consume. When he tastes their power... we’ll offer the feast ourselves."
"Will be our garden of end."
Back at the Summit Garden
Unaware of the darkness stirring elsewhere, Evon returned from the balcony to rejoin the others inside. The guests had settled into lighter conversations and dessert paired with flaming spiritmelts and cold etherfruit.
Imari gestured toward him.
"Commander Wang," she smiled softly, "come join us. Zeph is claiming Leviathans eat dreams. You should counter that with your realm-laced logic."
Evon let out the faintest breath of amusement—a rare private moment of warmth.
He walked toward the clustered hunters without fanfare.
And yet, despite soft laughter and shared stories echoing under the glowing domes...
Fate itself did not laugh.
It moved. Quietly... and deliberately.
In three days, the journey to Mongolia would begin.
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