The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character-Chapter 109 - 111:The Evil Summon

Lukas stepped out into the open field, the soft crunch of grass beneath his boots the only sound in the still night. A cold breeze brushed past him, carrying a strange, almost metallic scent. He lifted his gaze, his sharp eyes locking onto the dark red moon hanging in the sky. It glowed ominously, casting an eerie crimson hue across the land.

The air felt different—thicker, heavier, as if an invisible force had settled over everything. It wasn't just his imagination. Something had changed. The unnatural silence, the way the wind barely rustled the trees, and the unsettling chill creeping up his spine all pointed to one thing.

A red full moon.

The night when the abyss's dark energy surged to its peak. A night when shadows grew bolder, and whispers of the unseen echoed through the air. A night meant for the darkest rituals, where forbidden powers stirred and things best left untouched crawled their way into the world.

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Lukas clicked his tongue in irritation.

"I'm sure it's already begun," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His gut told him he was right.

He crossed his arms, his expression grim. "I just hope they handle it properly—no mistakes, no loose ends. If they mess this up, things could get ugly fast."

A heavy sigh escaped him. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. He didn't like standing by, but for now, there was nothing else he could do. All he could do was wait—and hope they didn't screw this up.

..…..

The dark fog hung thick in the air, twisting like restless spirits around the periphery. A faint, blinking light from the massive mansion barely pierced the murky haze.

The eerie glow gave the surroundings a ghostly feel, while the dense mist muffled all sounds, making every step feel like an intrusion into forbidden territory.

Far from the mansion, on a cliff overlooking the valley, a group of men stood cloaked in black, their faces hidden behind ominous masks. Their presence was as still as the night, yet their intent was anything but peaceful.

One of them, a man with sharp, piercing eyes, rested his hand on the hilt of his sword as he gazed at the crimson moon overhead. The faint red glow bathed the group in an otherworldly hue.

"Crimson moon and dark fog," Daniel said, his voice low but cutting through the stillness like a blade. "What a wonderful night to summon evil." His cold eyes shifted toward the blond-haired man beside him.

"Is this the right place, Richard?"

"Yes," Richard replied calmly, his tone steady as if the bizarre surroundings didn't faze him.

"We even divined it for better results.And all sources indicate that today they will be trying to do an evil summon."

At the word "divined," Andrew, the third man, gave an involuntary shiver. His shoulders twitched as he muttered something under his breath.Only God knows how they managed to get out of the nightmare while they were a step away from becoming gay..

"No, don't think that,"Daniel reminded himself, slapping his cheek.

Daniel's gaze locked onto him like a predator. "What's wrong with him?"

Richard glanced at Andrew , then shrugged. "Ignore him. Just focus on the mission."

Daniel didn't argue. Instead, he raised his hand, his palm glowing faintly as a pale light spread around the group. His voice was sharp, commanding. "Hounds, you know what we're here for."

"Yes!" a chorus of voices responded from the shadows, but Daniel quickly silenced them with a flick of his hand.

Following his sign countless figures rose up from the stealthy darkness.

"Remember," he said, his tone colder than the night air. "Leave no one alive. Don't hesitate. Don't think.Just Kill. That's all."

Richard opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but Daniel silenced him with a hard glare.

Richard sighed inwardly. He hadn't wanted to bring the Hounds here, but the Emperor's orders were clear.

Any family suspected of dealings with the dark arts had to be purged by the Hounds unless irrefutable evidence of innocence was presented. And they had no evidence.

The Hounds were brutal, unrestrained, and unforgiving. Once they had a target, it didn't matter who or what stood in their way. Even the dead couldn't tell their stories when the Hounds were done.

"Let's go!"

On his call, the figure jumped off the cliff and descended down the high slope with agile ease without creating a faint sound.

Being professional, they know how to control their presence.

Descending down, they were greeted by a very thick mist that made it harder to stray the path ahead.

Richard pulled out an artifact from beneath his cloak—a small lantern carved with intricate runes. As he activated it, the Divine Lantern flared to life, casting a pale, ghostly light that pushed back the fog around them.

The path ahead became clearer, but with it came a chilling revelation. Figures began to emerge from the mist—twisted shapes with hollow eyes and rotting flesh.

"Zombies," Andrew muttered, his voice shaking. He unsheathed his blade with a nervous laugh. "Guess the welcoming party's here."

"Stay sharp," Richard warned, stepping forward with his sword drawn.

The first zombie lunged at them, but Daniel was faster. His blade moved like a streak of light, severing the creature's head in one swift motion. "Pathetic," he muttered, his face devoid of emotion.

The group moved cautiously toward the mansion. The air was icy, and an unnatural fog swirled around them. Richard's Divine Lantern lit their path, its glow pushing back the darkness but revealing the lifeless forms scattered across the ground.

"This place feels cursed," Andrew muttered, gripping his sword tightly.

"Stay focused," Daniel ordered, his voice calm but commanding. "We're not here for feelings. We're here to finish the job."

Suddenly, low moans echoed through the fog. Shadows began to move, and corpses rose from the ground, their hollow eyes glowing faintly. Spectres had taken control of the bodies, twisting them into unnatural forms.

"Specters," Richard said, slicing through one that lunged at him. Its ghostly body dissolved with a shrill screech as his blade struck true.

Andrew ducked another attack, laughing nervously as he swung his weapon wildly. "You know, I signed up for an adventure, not a horror show."

Daniel ignored him, his focus razor-sharp as he dispatched another zombie with brutal efficiency. Blood and ectoplasm splattered the ground, but he didn't so much as flinch.

"They're surrounding us!" Andrew yelled, spinning to face the approaching horde.

Daniel raised his hand. "Hounds, prepare to fight. Take them down—no mercy."

The Hounds drew their weapons, forming a tight circle. Each moved with precision, their training evident as they slashed through the first wave of undead. Daniel's sword, etched with glowing runes, cut down a spectre-possessed corpse in a single strike.

"Go for the heads!" Richard called out, holding the lantern high. Its holy light slowed the spectres, weakening their control over the bodies.

Andrew swung wildly at an approaching corpse. "Why do they always go for me?!"

"Maybe because you're loud," Richard said with a grin, slicing through another attacker with ease.

As the group fought, the spectres tried to escape from the destroyed bodies. Wispy, shadowy forms darted through the fog, searching for new hosts.

"Don't let them get away!" Richard warned.

"I've got this," Daniel said, pulling a small Obsidian Orb from his pouch.

He held the orb high and spoke a quiet incantation. Golden tendrils of light shot out from the orb, snaking through the air and grabbing the fleeing spectres. The spirits screamed as they were dragged back into the orb, which glowed brighter with each one it absorbed.

"What's that?" Andrew asked, breathing heavily.

"The Soul Requiem Orb," Richard said. "It's blessed by the God of Redemption. It doesn't just trap the spectres—it purifies their energy."

Once the orb had absorbed all the escaping spirits, Daniel slipped it back into his pouch. "The area is clear," he said. "But stay alert."

Andrew wiped sweat from his brow, glancing nervously at the fog. "Let's hope we don't run into more of those things."

"Don't count on it," Richard replied, smirking.

Daniel turned toward the looming mansion. "This was just the start," he said, his voice steady. "Whatever's in there is far worse. Move out."

The group stepped over the remains of the fallen, their weapons ready. The mansion stood in the distance, dark and silent, as if waiting for them.

More creatures appeared, their grotesque forms illuminated by the lantern's glow. Some looked like reanimated corpses, while others were translucent, their spectral forms glowing faintly as they floated toward the group.

After what felt like an eternity, the fog around them began to thin. The last of the creatures fell, its form crumpling into the dirt as the light of the Divine Lantern flared brightly.

Richard held the lantern high, aiming its beam at the mansion in the distance. "All those creatures… they were servants of this place, turned into zombies. Some were possessed by specters."

"Or," Daniel said, his voice cold as steel, "they were sacrifices." He sharpened his blade against his sleeve, his eyes fixed on the mansion.

The three of them stood in silence, the eerie glow of the lantern casting long, distorted shadows around them. The fog seemed to twist and writhe, as if alive, as they prepared for what lay ahead.