Beast Monarch sneered as he turned to Dorian Nightshade, the Silent Reaper. "Have you finished off the mistress and the future heir of the Blackthrone family?"

Silent Reaper replied with an eerie calmness, "Seraphina is dead, but her son managed to escape."

Beast Monarch let out a deep laugh. "Ha! To think a ten-year-old boy slipped from the grasp of a National Hunter. How embarrassing."

Arcane Sovereign stepped between them, his voice dripping with condescension. "Silent Reaper did die in the fight against them. I had to revive him with the Decima Vitae Relic after we finished off the Dark Emperor."

Inferno Monarch’s expression twisted with rage. "You fool! You should’ve made sure the brat was dead. What if he grows as strong as his father?"

Arcane Sovereign smirked. "Then he will suffer the same fate."

Beast Monarch grinned. "You're right. He will die like a dog."

Arcane Sovereign issued a command to the eight National Hunters. "Find the little tiger of the Blackthrone family. We will not allow another Dark Emperor to rise."

Lucian walked through the dense forest, his mind clouded with grief and vengeance. Hidden deep within the wilderness stood a secluded Blackthrone mansion, shrouded by an 8th-class illusion array that concealed it from the eyes of hunters. Only members of the Blackthrone bloodline could enter.

He reached the grand door and inserted the key into the wall’s hidden slot. A golden glow flickered, and the vault creaked open, revealing countless artifacts labeled with S-rank descriptions. His eyes locked onto a note placed atop a pedestal.

Lucian, if you are reading this, it means I have fallen.

The artifacts within this vault belong to you now. You must have found the sword in my hands—it is the SS-rank weapon, Obsidian Oath, passed down through our lineage. Use it to exact vengeance. There is also the Nyxveil Relic, a pendant that can shield you from an 8th-class spell once per day and teleport you anywhere. Use them wisely.

Lucian clenched his fists. He now had two goals: annihilate the National Hunters and reclaim the supremacy of the Blackthrone family.

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Two years passed. Lucian mastered The Blackthorne Eclipse sword technique and honed his body and mana. Now, it was time for retribution.

His first target: Dorian Nightshade.

The Silent Reaper’s villa stood near the ocean, its isolation mirroring its owner's nature. Security was unnecessary—Dorian had no fear, except for one person.

Lucian teleported inside the villa using Nyxveil Relic, clad in Phantom’s Embrace, which rendered him undetectable. He appeared in front of Dorian, his hand gripping Obsidian Oath.

Dorian’s keen senses flared. In an instant, he was in a battle stance, daggers shimmering in the dim candlelight.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Lucian stepped forward, his voice cold and heavy. "Have you forgotten the Blackthrones so soon?"

Recognition dawned on Dorian’s face. "Impossible… the boy survived." His astonishment turned into grim acceptance. "I should have hunted you down sooner."

Without another word, Lucian struck. Obsidian Oath hummed as he unleashed Phantom’s Requiem, the sixth form of his family’s sword art. A single arc split the mansion in two, sending debris raining around them.

Dorian barely dodged, leaping onto the rafters. "Impressive," he admitted. "But you’re still young. You think you can match me?"

He activated his ultimate skill, Severance Realm. The world around them twisted into an abyssal void, a battlefield where time and space bent to Dorian’s will.

"This is the Perfect Kill Zone," Dorian said smugly. "None have survived. And neither will you."

Lucian smirked. "You must be truly desperate. Separating me from the world won’t change your fate—it only ensures no one will hear your screams."

Dorian lunged, his daggers a blur of lethal intent. Shadows extended from his strikes, aiming to slice Lucian from every direction.

Lucian parried, shifting into Eclipse of Desolation, his seventh form. A blinding arc of darkness devoured the space around them, severing one of Dorian’s arms.

Dorian hissed in pain but regenerated instantly. "Not enough."

Lucian’s eyes burned. "Then let’s end this."

He gathered his remaining mana and activated Nocturne’s Ascendancy, the eighth form of The Blackthorne Eclipse. The void trembled as his blade erupted in absolute darkness, cutting through Dorian’s regenerative essence itself.

A single devastating slash cleaved Dorian apart—his torso, arms, and head separated in a flash of black light. His body convulsed as he tried to regenerate, but no matter how much he struggled, his flesh refused to reform.

His breath came in ragged gasps. "T-this… is impossible…"

Lucian loomed over him, eyes devoid of mercy. "This is justice. This is vengeance. This is the power of the Blackthrone bloodline."

With one final downward thrust, Obsidian Oath pierced Dorian’s heart, snuffing out the life of the Silent Reaper.

Lucian stood amidst the wreckage of the Severance Realm as it crumbled away, returning him to the real world. The first of his eight targets was dead.

The hunt had begun.