Snow drifted down.
Cliffs stood tall.
The church lay silent.
Within the cold, tranquil Prayer Hall, a pitch-black figure sat quietly upon a pew.
His gaze was deep, his features calm, his face weathered by time. Clad in a hunter's trench coat of an old-fashioned style, he watched the slightly weatherworn statue of a woman before him without a word, as though silently savoring the life he had once lived—or as though waiting for a distant guest to arrive.
Then, before long, the old wooden doors of the Prayer Hall were suddenly pushed open.
Creak.
As the doors opened, an illusory figure bathed in drifting snow formally appeared beyond the entrance to the Prayer Hall.
The newcomer was young, handsome, strong, and tall. Silver light burst from his entire body as he radiated boundless brilliance and endless pressure, like a god.
Yet at the same time, his long hair was disheveled, his expression haggard, and his body covered in wounds, as though he had just hacked a bloody path out of the most utter hell before finally managing to reach this Old Church, cut off from the world.
And he was none other than Kuize, the Soulheart Hunter!
Kuize, the Soulheart Hunter, who had just completed the most arduous, most vast, most monumental god-hunting battle of his life, leaving both his body and mind battered beyond measure and drained to the dregs!
The former second seat among the Apex Hunters, the future leader of the Hunter Corps—Kuize, the Soulheart Hunter!
"Huff."
"Huff."
"Huff."
At the height of his powers, Kuize extended a weary arm and slowly pushed open the old wooden door. Then, widening his weakened eyes, he took in the entirety of the Prayer Hall in a single glance.
Next, his exhausted gaze fell upon the black figure seated