Seeing my own rank gave me a moment of reflection. I had only one token left and twenty-five kills. The numbers seemed small compared to the top contenders, but they represented my first foray into the monthly contribution competitions.

Still, there was only one glaring problem. Even after killing twenty-five high-level monsters, there was no increase in my level. Is the Way of the World so shattered that leveling up has become this hard? Yet, my skills are rapidly increasing, so that shouldn't be the case.

I had also used [ Identify ] on the city people, and the average adult there had between fifteen to twenty levels. I don't think they would have killed hundreds of monsters to reach those levels.

I didn't know if the problem was with me or the dungeon itself. If it was with me, I might become the cliché level 0 player with some other cheat. Or maybe it's due to the dungeon, but I couldn't find anything wrong with it. Not like I'm an expert on dungeons, so it was only a guess. The frustration of being stuck at the same level, despite the constant battles and bloodshed, gnawed at me, but there was nothing I could do.

While my level remained stagnant, the same could not be said for my skills. Even though death was quite traumatic for me, I couldn't deny the efficiency with which my skills increased due to the constant pressure. Each encounter, each narrow escape, honed my abilities in a way that simple training never could.

My skills were becoming synchronized, helping each other; my strikes were more precise, and my reflexes were getting sharper. My mind and body were adapting to this world with its mana and skills.

But the paradox of my situation was maddening—my skills soared while my level remained fixed.

I shrugged, pushing those thoughts aside for now, and opened the quest.

Finale Rush: Get 2X Rewards for the killing in the last 4 hours.

Ends in 03:08:12 Hours.

There were still the 2X rewards for the killings. For a moment, I was tempted, but I stopped myself from taking the usual route. My goal was simple for this competition: participate because the Vice Chancellor requested it in exchange for the skill book.

Without that incentive, I wouldn't have come here, so with the task complete, there was no reason to invite unnecessary trouble for the sake of rewards.

Even with all my experience reading about risk and rewards, I had dived headfirst into it like a battle-hungry barbarian without proper backups. I should have just run when the other Sevvy II and III joined. The presence of the other Wendiogos was a clear sign that the battle was attracting more monsters.

But experiencing the high from my first kill, I foolishly decided that I could kill others before more came. I got greedy, thinking I was invincible after one victory. Classic rookie mistake. The adrenaline and rush of power clouded my judgment, and I paid for it with near-death experiences that could have been avoided with a bit more caution.

I shook my head, clenching and unclenching my fists as I tried to dispel the lingering frustration. Now that I have nothing much to do for today, I decided to hone my skills. If the killing wasn't providing me with the expected levels, then I would just improve my skills. Thankfully, I could increase my skills with practice.

While relaxing was a good idea, I didn't want to waste too much time after my last battle. There were some ideas floating in my mind that I wanted to apply.

Most of my advancement had happened in the mad rush to kill the Wendigos, and I wasn't sure if it had stuck. Sword and jerky in hand, I moved toward the forest. The looming trees looked like good targets for my practice, and taking out my frustration.

As I neared the first twisted willow tree, an involuntary shiver ran through me. The gnarled branches reached out like skeletal fingers, their shadows creating a lattice of darkness on the forest floor.

For a moment, fear washed over me like a cold wave, but I forced myself to take another step. The darkness under the canopy seemed to pulse with a life of its own, but I kept a healthy distance from it.

What's the worst that could happen? Just a temporary death.

A strained chuckle came out that tapered off at the end. But I was not going to enter the forest. I wasn't a battle maniac, at least not yet. And hopefully, I would never become one.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Standing in front of the twisted tree, I examined my steel sword. The blade was badly chipped, evidence of the brutal battles I had fought. With a sigh, I traced my fingers over the nicks, feeling the rough edges. Every small flaw showed my faults, and I knew that perfectly angled slashes would have chipped the weapon less.

The metal was also marred with a few deep gouges, and the once smooth surface now felt rough under my fingers. I could see the places where my swings had been too wild, too desperate, leaving the blade with a dull edge than a weapon of precision.

Using mana threads, I channeled a steady flow of energy into the blade, watching as the metal reshaped smoothly. The weapon was the most basic, a loaner for ten contribution points, and I couldn't help but salivate thinking about what the artifacts could do in this world.

Giving it away after the competition would really suck as I felt the worn leather grip. The handle, slick with sweat, had molded to the shape of my hand, a comforting fit that belied its crude craftsmanship.

As the metal reshaped and flowed, merging back together seamlessly, I couldn't help but marvel at the process.

Examining the process, I used mana threads to probe the complex pathways in the blade. At first, the threads followed easily, but the path grew narrower until it felt like squeezing through a small door.

The mana path compacted further, but I knew brute force was not an option. Suddenly, my threads felt more like trying to fit a river through a straw.

I tried to decrease my mana thread size, imagining a hair-sized thread. Concentrating intensely, I imagined the thread thinning, becoming more delicate, but it couldn't travel far before disintegrating. My face twisted with frustration as I watched the thread vanish.

Making it stronger just added more girth to the thread, which defeated the whole point. Maybe there's something I'm missing, I thought, my brow furrowing. Or perhaps my skills just aren't leveled enough yet.

As the mana worked its way through the blade, the nicks and gouges began to disappear. I leaned closer, eyes narrowing, searching for any details. But I couldn't discern any clue here.

Slowly, the gleaming edge reappeared, sharp and unblemished, reflecting the sparse light filtering through the canopy. The sharp sword gave me a sense of security as my shoulders relaxed, releasing tension I didn't know I was holding.

After the sword mended, I looked at the twisted tree with its leaves and branches coming together to form an impenetrable canopy.

A sudden roar echoed from the depths of the forest, and I jumped, raising my sword instinctively with my grip tightening on the leather handle. My heart pounded in my chest as my eyes darted around, scanning for threats, only to realize the sound was distant.

A wave of relief washed over me, though I felt a bit foolish for my reaction. Jumping at shadows and distant roars like a scared rabbit? Pathetic.

Controlling my breathing, I planned for my next steps. Before proceeding with training, I needed to take stock of what I had learned. This introspection was crucial. If I could understand my mistakes, I could avoid repeating them. If I could identify what worked, I could refine and enhance those techniques.

Closing my eyes, I examined the recent battle in small flashes, trying to piece together every detail. Each swing, each dodge, every skill usage—I replayed them in my mind, seeking to understand my strengths and pinpoint my weaknesses.

The dim lighting from the mushrooms and the Wendigos' frantic pace left little time for careful observation during the fight. But within the chaos, there were patterns. The way they lunged, the timing of their strikes, and the subtle shifts in their posture before an attack—all these clues had been there if only I had been able to see them. I needed to train my eyes and mind to catch these details even in the heat of battle.

Each strike, each dodge, came back to me in sharp clarity. I could feel the weight of the sword in my hand, the rush of air as I moved, the tension in my muscles as I braced for impact.

After replaying the battle, I opened my eyes and exhaled slowly, letting go of the tension in my shoulders that had built up inside me.

I scanned the surroundings quickly to ensure there were no immediate threats. The forest remained still, only the occasional distant roar breaking the silence. After the first five roars, my mind settled down as it was of no consequence.

Closing my eyes and activating Spatial Perception, the world around me transformed and was overlaid with a grid pattern, outlining the terrain.

But there was also a new layer to my perception— a sense of presence emanating from the trees around me. Similar to how I sensed the Wendigos' movements, the still objects within my spatial range now took on more defined forms.

During the fight with the monsters, their movements appeared as whole surfaces, without the grid, but with a sense of their speed and shape. Similarly, the trees around me formed in their shape within my spatial perception.

The grid pattern was clear and precise, outlining the terrain and ground-level objects. Meanwhile, the sense of presence extended upwards, offering a more abstract perception of vertical elements like the trees. It was not detailed like the grid, but more than enough to easily form a general outline of the tree.

The two different perceptions meshed chaotically at the roots of the tree, creating a disorienting overlap where the precision of the grid collided with the sense of presence from the tree.

The new perception was there from the skill book, but I had introduced my own interpretation to form the surrounding terrain. Anything on the ground could be easily sensed within the grid pattern, but that couldn't be said about vertical things. They only provided a sense of presence.

Now, I'm in a dilemma about what to do with my spatial perception. Go the grid route or the new sense of presence in Spatial Perception?