SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS - Chapter 1041 - 1041: Invisible Hunting!

Inside the Beast Hive Forest

Mist clung to the ground like the breath of ancient spirits. Vines as thick as pythons hung from the towering trees, their leaves whispering in the wind. Somewhere in the darkness, a deep growl rumbled, followed by the crack of breaking branches.

Kent stood on a moss-covered root, his figure swallowed by the shadows of the canopy. A faint ripple of spiritual energy encased his body, bending light and sound around him. It wasn’t invisibility in the mortal sense—it was something far more refined. His presence was erased, his killing intent sealed in a sheath sharper than any blade.

The gamblers’ lackeys—those who had dared to surround him earlier—were nothing but the opening act. Now, the hunt had begun in earnest.

Kent’s eyes, cold as winter lightning, scanned the forest floor. A beast with twin saber-like tusks padded silently between the undergrowth. Its aura marked it as a high-tier Silverback Boar, its core worth thrice the requirement of a common beast.

Without a sound, Kent moved.

A faint shimmer in the air was the only clue—then the beast’s head separated cleanly from its body, a spray of crimson painting the nearby ferns. Kent’s sword was already back in its sheath before the body hit the ground. He crouched, extracted the warm core, and vanished once more into the veil of shadows.

Far above, the Aurora Glasses floated in the hands of the spectators, eager to capture the scene. Yet when the image shifted to Kent’s sector, they saw nothing but the steaming carcass of the Silverback Boar lying in the mud, its head rolled a few feet away. No attacker, no movement—only the aftermath.

“Again!?” someone cried. “The Glass didn’t catch him at all!”

Kent wove through the forest like a whisper, his steps touching only where the ground would not betray him. He avoided open trails, favoring the twisting paths under fallen logs and between thorny brambles where few would dare tread.

Two more beasts fell in quick succession—a shadow leopard whose spine snapped before it could roar, and a horned serpent pierced through the skull with such precision that even the nearby leaves didn’t stir.

Each time, the Aurora Glasses caught the scene a moment too late. One breath earlier and the viewers might have seen the killing blow. Instead, they saw corpses cooling on the ground, their beast cores already gone.

For Kent, the slaughter was methodical. He ignored the weaker beasts unless they were in his path, focusing instead on high-value targets to quickly stack his core count. Every move was deliberate—kill, harvest, vanish.

By midday, he had enough beast cores to pass the round twice over, yet he lingered in the forest, moving deeper into territory where the air grew heavy with killing intent. He knew the gamblers would not give up easily; more hired blades would come. Better to deal with them in the shadows than on an open stage.

In the far distance, the roar of a greater beast shook the canopy. Kent’s lips curved in a faint smile.

Hidden beneath the forest’s breath, he moved toward the sound.

And above, the Aurora Glass shimmered—only to show, once again, nothing but the silent, blood-soaked remains of those who had crossed his path.

–

At the Golden Rat Gambling House, Fatty Ben reclined lazily on a spirit chair, gnawing on roasted spirit duck legs while a small mountain of Mana Crystals glittered beside him. He glanced at the projection, waiting for a familiar figure, but what caught his eye first was a young man wreathed in flames stepping out of the portal with a hearty laugh.

“Ha! That’s Yan Huo of the Scarlet Sun Sect,” a nearby gambler exclaimed. “They say he merged his Flame Dao with the Blood Lion’s Roar—his every step inside the forest burned beasts to ashes. No wonder he’s first out!”

Indeed, Yan Huo’s crimson hair streamed in the wind, and the fiery aura around him was so intense that the ground beneath his feet sizzled. He tossed a space pouch to the waiting elder with casual arrogance.

“One thousand beast cores,” he said, his tone dripping with confidence. “A warm-up at best.”

The crowd roared with admiration. Girls in silk robes clutched each other, whispering about his looks, while several elders nodded in approval.

Not long after, the portal rippled again, and a woman in golden armor emerged, dragging behind her the head of a massive Thunder Fang Leopard. Her silver eyes sparkled under the moonlight, and the golden light from her armor made her seem like a war goddess descending from the heavens.

“That’s Ling Yue from the Heavenly Sword Pavilion!” someone cried. “She’s known for killing beasts in open challenge rather than hiding.”

Ling Yue smirked faintly at the audience, swinging the leopard’s head to the ground with a satisfying thud. “It took me longer than expected,” she said casually, “the little cubs wanted to fight too.” The crowd erupted with laughter and applause at her understated boast.

Following her was a group of four disciples wearing jade-green robes, moving with such perfect harmony that they seemed like extensions of the same body. Their leader, a tall man with a spear carved from white dragon bone, spun it once, and the faint echo of a dragon’s roar filled the air.

“The Four Leaf Drakes of the Azure Dragon School,” murmured a gambler. “They work together to trap beasts, using formation arts. In a hundred years, no one’s ever seen them lose a team event.”

The four stepped forward in perfect unison, offering their beast cores as the crowd clapped rhythmically, honoring their teamwork and mastery.

But the loudest reaction came when the portal flared bright silver, and a man stepped out alone, a moonlit radiance swirling around him. His white robes were spotless, his long hair bound with a simple jade crown. He carried a single dagger, yet the air around him rippled with killing intent so refined it felt like poetry.

“Bai Xi, the Moon-Slaying Gentleman,” whispered an elder with narrowed eyes. “He kills so swiftly that his opponents die without realizing they’ve been struck. They say the beasts simply lay down in death as he passes.”

Bai Xi smiled faintly, his expression calm as water. “One thousand cores,” he said simply, and turned to leave, as if the entire spectacle was beneath him.

The crowd buzzed with excitement at each new arrival, their cheers echoing across the sky stages. Gambling houses shouted to update their odds for the third round, capitalizing on the fame of these disciples.

Yet among all this celebration, there was still one name on every tongue.

“Where is Kent King?!”