A familiar presence pulsed in Revan’s mind, cold and distant, as if something far greater than himself had taken notice of his actions. His body, still humming with the remnants of Celestial magic, stiffened at the sudden intrusion. Then, without warning, a bright light filled his vision, and words scrawled across his sight in glowing golden text.

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[SYSTEM ALERT: LEVEL UP!]

* You have defeated a Lesser Shadowbeast.

* Experience gained. Level increased to 2.

* Strength +2 | Dexterity +1 | Essence Control +1

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Revan blinked as the sensation faded, leaving behind a lingering warmth in his chest, a subtle but undeniable increase in his power. His muscles felt just a bit more fluid, his balance slightly sharper, and the energy coursing through him was more responsive. It wasn’t a massive transformation, but it was noticeable—like an engine that had just been tuned to run smoother.

So the system rewarded him for combat. That was good to know.

He exhaled slowly, shaking the tension from his limbs as he surveyed the remains of his opponent. The Shadowbeast lay still, its massive form partially illuminated by the dim moonlight filtering through the thick canopy. Its fur had darkened, the Celestial energy from his strike still lingering in the wound, burning faintly along the edges.

His golden eyes studied the corpse carefully. The way the magic had interacted with the flesh was interesting—it didn’t just cut; it purified. That could be useful, depending on what kind of creatures existed in this world.

More importantly, though, the thing was dead, and now he needed to figure out what came next.

He crouched down, his claws running along the tough hide. If his sword hadn’t been laced with Celestial energy, he wasn’t sure if it would have cut through as easily. The creature had been fast, strong, and not something an ordinary person could handle alone.

If beasts like this roamed the wilds, then the people who lived here either had ways to avoid them, or they were stronger than the average human.

His ears flicked at a distant snap—the sound of a branch breaking somewhere beyond the trees. His body tensed.

Not an animal. Footsteps.

Someone was nearby.

Revan remained crouched for a moment, his tail flicking once as he considered his options. He had no idea who was out there, and he wasn’t about to walk blindly into something that could be worse than the beast he had just fought.

But then, the scent hit him.

Smoke.

Faint, but unmistakable. A campfire.

His jaw tightened. People.

He didn’t know if they were friendly, but standing in the middle of the forest with no knowledge of where he was, no supplies, and no clear goal wasn’t exactly a winning strategy. Like it or not, he needed information, and this was his first real lead.

Still, that didn’t mean he was about to walk in like an idiot.

Moving with careful, measured steps, he left the beast behind and pressed forward through the trees. His newfound strength and dexterity helped him adjust, allowing him to move quieter than before. His footfalls were more controlled, and his tail helped balance his movement, letting him shift his weight mid-step without making a sound.

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The forest thinned slightly, and through the gaps in the branches, he caught flickering light. The campfire.

He slowed, positioning himself behind the trunk of a massive tree, and observed.

The camp was small—a fire at the center, surrounded by four figures. Two were hunters, lightly armored, their bows resting against a log. One was older, heavily built, wearing worn leather armor and carrying a longsword across his lap.

The last man was different.

His cloak was trimmed with faded gold, his boots polished, his belt lined with silver buckles. His posture was too refined, his tone too entitled when he spoke.

A noble. Or at least someone used to ordering people around.

Revan’s ears twitched as he listened.

“…can’t stay here forever,” one of the hunters muttered. “That thing’s still out there.”

The older man grunted. “If it hasn’t come for us yet, it’s either dead or hunting something else. Either way, we don’t move until dawn.”

The noble scoffed. “This is ridiculous. We’ve been out here for days, and for what? Some half-baked rumor?”

“We got paid, didn’t we?” the second hunter shot back.

The noble crossed his arms. “A pathetic sum. If the beast’s already dead, we’re wasting our time.”

Revan frowned. So they were tracking the beast. Maybe they had been hired to kill it, or maybe they had another reason for being here. Either way, if they were out hunting something that could rip through an ordinary man in seconds, that meant they had to be at least somewhat capable.

He could use that.

The noble stood, stretching. “If nothing happens by morning, we’re heading back. I’ve had enough of these cursed woods.”

Revan had heard enough. If they left before dawn, he might lose his only chance to get answers.

Time to make a move.

He stepped out from behind the tree, pushing through the undergrowth with deliberate intent. Leaves rustled beneath his feet as he stepped into the firelight, and the reaction was instant.

The older warrior was the first to react, his hand snapping to his sword. The hunters scrambled, one reaching for a bow, the other grabbing a dagger. The noble took a staggered step back, his eyes widening as he stared at Revan’s towering form.

No one spoke.

Revan didn’t reach for his weapon.

Yet.

“Relax,” he said, his voice low and calm, but carrying an undeniable weight. “I’m not here to kill you.”

The hunters did not relax.

The older warrior narrowed his single eye at him. “Then what are you here for?”

Revan let the silence stretch for a moment.

“Answers.”

He saw the way they looked at him. The way their hands hovered over their weapons, the flicker of uncertainty in their expressions. They had no idea what he was, and that was a problem.

If they thought he was a beast, they might attack. If they thought he was a threat, they’d definitely attack.

He wasn’t here to fight, but he would if he had to.

The noble was the first to regain his composure. He stepped forward cautiously, his eyes flicking from Revan’s mane to his golden eyes, to the massive greatsword resting across his back.

“…What are you?” he asked, suspicion laced in his voice.

Revan held his gaze, his expression unreadable.

“That,” he said, a slow grin forming, “is exactly what I’m trying to figure out.”

The older warrior exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He didn’t take his hand off his sword, but he also didn’t draw it. “You came from the forest?”

Revan nodded once. “Just woke up there. No idea where I am, no idea how I got here.”

The hunters exchanged nervous glances. The noble frowned, studying him more closely. “And you just… wandered into our camp?”

Revan smirked. “I figured you’d rather talk than find out how sharp my sword is.”

The noble didn’t look amused, but the older warrior chuckled. “He’s got a point.”

The tension didn’t vanish, but it lessened.

Revan had their attention.

Now he just had to make sure they didn’t decide he was better off dead.