A dim yellow sky.
A stifling atmosphere.
A vast expanse of land.
This was a labyrinthine wilderness far from the Gloomsoil Hidden Realm.
Atop a towering mountain in the middle of the wilderness, two wooden chairs faced each other, with two old men seated opposite one another.
One had silver hair and a single eye, his gaze steeped in the weariness of ages, his expression calm. Dressed in a pitch-black uniform, he was Kuize, commander of the Auling Hunter Corps.
The other had white hair slicked back, a face full of wrinkles, and a smile on his lips. Draped in a plain white cloak, he was Mikun, Headmaster of the Delight Theater.
Thousands of years ago, both had been members of the first generation of Apex Hunters, both symbols of the Auling Hunter Corps' absolute ceiling of combat power.
Yet thousands of years later, the waves of fate had driven them onto completely opposite paths, ultimately leading to their current state as irreconcilable, water-and-fire mortal enemies.
Today, only one of them would be allowed to live.
Whether it was Kuize or Mikun, both knew this perfectly well.
However, before formally making their move, the two old men had agreed to sit peacefully for a while and have a long-overdue "catch-up chat."
Simply because they had lived for too long—so long that few people in this world still knew their past, and fewer still could call themselves "old friends" before them.
Therefore, even though the current situation was one where only one could survive, Kuize and Mikun did not wish for everything to end so hastily.
Picking up on Kuize's earlier point, Mikun asked him teasingly:
"You don't even know the existence or abilities of those Abyss Apostles, yet you're so certain the Apex Hunters you brought won't be taken out?"