PATH OF THE STAR HUNTER

Desmond was genuinely ruthless, as he realized that it would be tough to kill his enemies even with the advantage of the element of surprise. He immediately went for the next best thing, aiming to undermine the combat ability of the hyena men.

Golden bullets filled with Desmond’s dense metallic mana endlessly pierced the werehyenas, targeting their limbs or vital organs. Despite the defensive measures the werehyenas took, Desmond managed to land 12 of 16 shots, dealing more than a bit of damage.

Desmond carefully analyzed the situation as the last bullet left the gun chamber to pierce a werehyena’s left thigh, opting to target the most wounded of the group of werehyenas. In a couple of seconds, it took to empty the cartridges from both pistols, Desmond had gathered a significant amount of metallic mana around his ankles for a possible follow-up attack.

The werehyenas were still experiencing the pain of being pierced by mana-enhanced munitions. They could not react as they watched Desmond charge again, lunging at just one of them.

Desmond knew how to pick his prey. The werehyena Desmond targeted was a bit isolated compared to its comrades, not to mention that it had gunshot wounds to both legs, making it difficult to dodge or defend itself. Ultimately, Desmond was a hunter, a born predator; taking out the weakest link was carved into his instincts.

What amazed the werehyena, who was being attacked by Desmond, was that the latter actually seemed to want to engage in close combat with him; such a thing was stupid. If it wasn’t for the pain that shot through that hyena man’s legs, it would have laughed at how ridiculous Desmond’s actions were; too bad it didn’t get a chance.

Without a change of pace during his swift advance, Desmond planted one heel hard on the ground and spun like a whirlwind on its own axis. His other leg shot out a fraction of a second later, cleaving the wind with a tearing momentum.

“Go and laugh in hell.” Desmond coldly proclaimed, remembering the obscene and annoying laughter of this group of scum, to which he added. “”

.....

A golden sword that looked more and more like a claymore was formed, aiming directly at dissecting the werehyena in front of Desmond. The eyes of the hyena were filled with terror as he felt the sharpness of the golden blade that was now pointed at him. What scared him the most was that, although Desmond was not overwhelmingly fast for him, his injured legs did not allow him to dodge.

There was a small growl followed by two bursts of blood as the wounds on the werehyena’s legs became his undoing. The werehyena simply couldn’t exert any force on them. Madness filled the eyes of the werehyena, who howled in desperation as he extended his claws in an attempt to drag Desmond down to hell with him.

Desmond mocked disdainfully at the last outburst of his prey. There was no need to defend against an attack made with such reckless abandon. Desmond’s “Excalibur” took no more than a fraction of a second to amputate both of the man’s arms. Desmond’s prey was barely processing the image of his amputated arms when he noticed that his point of view seemed to have suddenly changed. It took him a second to realize that half of his body was still standing next to him, spilling blood like a fountain.

A fraction of a second before, when the golden blade was still cutting through the flesh of the person in front of him. Desmond was already forming thousands of blue mana threads around his left arm. By the time the sword finished slashing his opponent and Desmond finished his spin, a werehyena was already trying to attack him from behind, but Desmond met him calmly.

“Such a pack mentality is too predictable.” Desmond commented calmly, but his left fist had already shot out, leaving behind a trail of blue ripples. “”

Desmond’s left fist collided with the werehyena’s right fist, creating an explosion on impact. Desmond was quickly overwhelmed by the physical strength of an Aura user, but his expression remained calm. Instead of taking the full force of his attacker, Desmond used part of the momentum to dash back just in time to get out of range of another of his opponent’s attacks.

Although Desmond was the one who was forced back, his attacker was not happy at all. The blue shockwaves fired by Desmond’s punch seemed to bypass all of his defenses, directly attacking his internal organs. The werehyena couldn’t help but vomit several mouthfuls of blood with a look of horror on his face. In addition to the internal injuries, Desmond’s punch greatly worsened the gunshot wounds.

As he backed away, Desmond was attacked by the third and final werehyena, who caught him in a somewhat awkward position. Knowing that he would lose if he tried to compete in terms of speed, Desmond did an incredibly supple backflip, barely avoiding a claw strike that grazed his throat.

The werehyena almost couldn’t believe his claw had failed. Still, his expression turned fierce when he saw Desmond’s awkward pose, who, due to his somersault, was now upside down with only one hand serving as support on the floor.

Believing that he had the upper hand, the werehyena did not stop his advance in an attempt to kill Desmond before he managed to get both feet on the ground. Seeing the small movements of the hyena man out of the corner of his eye, Desmond smiled coldly; this wasn’t the first time someone had tried something like this.

Slightly adjusting his center of gravity, Desmond retracted the arm he was standing on the ground with and one of his legs, significantly shrinking his posture. To the untrained eye, it seemed as if Desmond was trying to get as far away from the werehyena as an attempt to survive. Someone more experienced would see that Desmond was a spring gathering tension.

Even in this situation, Desmond didn’t hold his tongue, genuinely despising his opponents. “A bunch of rabid dogs.” Perhaps Desmond didn’t even see them as adversaries but rather as prey, and his pride as a predator led him to despise them in such a way.

Having built up enough tension, Desmond exerted every ounce of physical force available. Desmond kicked off the ground, running up his now-extended arm to his leg that shot out like a meteor.

“” A spear that seemed to be made of golden crystal soon protruded from the back of the werehyena as it lunged at Desmond. The spear wasn’t small at all, leaving a football-sized hole in the werehyena’s torso, holding his impaled body in midair for a second before vanishing.

With a second somersault, Desmond landed firmly on his feet. He watched calmly as a mixture of shattered internal organs spilled from the gaping hole in the chest of the hyena in front of him.

As the foul sound of internal organs being spilled rippled through the cave, streams of blue mana formed a second gauntlet around Desmond’s right arm. Desmond now wore a long navy blue gauntlet on each arm, emanating barely contained deep, intense mana pulsations. Desmond glared with growing murderous intent at the two still-living werehyenas.

Desmond’s lethality was as ludicrous as it had always been, but what was truly terrifying was the way he fought. Like a game of chess played by an expert, each move seems carefully calculated in advance, cementing his victory step by step. It was as if Desmond could see multiple moves in the future, always having his next move ready.

Desmond had killed two of the four werehyenas, showing the extent of his strength, but he didn’t seem tired or shaken at all. On the contrary, he didn’t stop building momentum as he fought.

Desmond’s slightly quickened breathing could be easily overlooked. Anyone could see that those blue gloves around his arms were some kind of ability he had already managed to accumulate an enormous amount of mana.

Perhaps that was what bothered the remaining two werehyenas and the werelion the most. Desmond seemed to ignore mana users’ inherent weaknesses when engaging in close combat. Desmond even had the extra focus to begin casting an independent skill while in close combat.

The werelion watched as two of his subordinates were slaughtered, one severely injured and only one remaining relatively untouched. However, he seemed more cautious than angry. Despite his physical resemblance to the lions of the earth, Rekna certainly didn’t have much courage in his heart. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be the kind of scum he is now.

With a wary expression but a calculating mind, Rekna tried to talk to Desmond. “Brat, I suggest you stop. This matter has nothing to do with you.”

“Who are you to decide that?” Desmond responded nonchalantly as his mana fluctuations grew more intense.

With a tense and angry expression, Rekna replied. “We have traveled close to this girl for a long time. I know you are not acquaintances or anything like that. Do you really plan to die for a stranger? I advise you to leave; lust is not worth dying for.”

Aisha was beautiful, Desmond wasn’t going to deny it, but there seemed to be more to the werelion’s words. Perhaps there was something Desmond didn’t know about her and her race. However, none of that mattered since Desmond was saving her for a completely different reason.

Under Aisha’s burning, hopeful but confused gaze, who watched all this unfold, Desmond gave an answer that surprised not only her but Rekna. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And normally, I wouldn’t bother giving pieces of trash like you an explanation, but since you’re so incisive, I’ll give you one. Contrary to what you are imagining, I will defend this girl and kill all of you for one reason: my pride demands it.”