Vieran reached into his pouch, pulling out a nutrition pill and a healing pill. Without hesitation, he popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. A wave of warmth spread through his limbs, the pills working their magic. His muscles loosened, fatigue melted away, and the ache in his joints dulled as energy coursed through him once more. He exhaled, steadying himself.

His eyes shifted to the fallen beast’s body. It began to dissolve, tendrils of black mist curling off the corpse like smoke. Under the glow of the light sphere, the creature vanished completely, leaving behind two objects: a small black marble and a dull, rusted horseshoe.

Vieran crouched down, inspecting the items with curiosity. He knew that when phantom beasts died, their bodies typically disappeared into mist. Sometimes they left items—sometimes nothing at all. This time, luck was on his side.

He picked up the marble, rolling it between his fingers. It felt cold and unsettling, a faint pulse of dark energy thrumming within. A corrupted phantom core, he thought. If he could purify it, the core would be usable. But purification was no easy task; it would require time, energy, and focus.

The horseshoe, on the other hand, was a mystery. It looked ordinary—worn and unremarkable—but Vieran knew better than to dismiss it. If a phantom beast had left it behind, it had to possess some latent magic. Maybe it was valuable. If he found a merchant, he could sell it, or perhaps it held an ability he could discover later. Either way, it was worth keeping.

He slipped both items into his pouch and turned toward the rest of the scattered crates. There was no telling when another beast might appear, so he worked quickly, gathering anything useful he could find. His hands moved with efficiency, pocketing resources and examining every crate for hidden supplies.

Once the task was done, Vieran stood motionless, weighing his options as the black mist swirled faintly at the barrier’s edge. His initial instinct was to move before something worse found him. But then a thought crept in, "Maybe staying here is safer."

He had just defeated a phantom beast. From what he knew, the one he encountered seemed to be around 1-B tier. Stronger beasts didn’t usually linger in areas where weaker ones roamed. They hunted in more dangerous places, drawn to the challenge of fighting powerful humans rather than wasting their time on the weak. If this area was only frequented by beasts like the one he fought, there was a chance he could handle them.

He clenched his fists. 1-B tier beasts were still dangerous. The fight just now had pushed him to his limit. One mistake, and it could have cost his life. But at least here, the threat was something familiar, something manageable. Out in the unknown, there was no telling what horrors lurked in the depths of the black mist.

Vieran glanced at the scattered crates around him, their contents already scavenged. This spot was as good as any, and with some preparation, it might serve as a temporary refuge. He could rest, gather his strength, and maybe learn the Lightfinder factors in peace.

He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself. "I'll stay." It wasn’t the ideal plan, but it felt like the safest option for now. If the beasts he encountered remained at this level, maybe—just maybe—he could survive a little longer.

Vieran took stock of his surroundings, mentally cataloging the tools and supplies within reach. His gaze flicked between a sharp dagger and the pickaxe. Both were rough, makeshift weapons, not ideal, but they’d have to do if another beast came sniffing around. He kept them close, within arm’s reach, ready to grab at a moment’s notice.

His eyes then landed on the small collection of sustenance he had gathered: several nutrition pills and healing pills. Their numbers were limited, and the thought of consuming them too quickly unsettled him. If beasts came too frequently, he’d exhaust his resources long before he could find safety. He could survive a fight here or there, but without these pills to recover, every encounter could chip away at him until he had nothing left.

But most importantly, there was the water. A large pouch lay at his side, the liquid inside sloshing faintly as he lifted it to check the weight. "Two days. Maybe three if I stretch it." The realization made his chest tighten. Water was the most essential thing—without it, he wouldn’t last long. And the worst part was, he had no idea where to find more in this mist-choked wasteland. If the pouch ran dry, he’d be in serious trouble.

Vieran set the water pouch down gently, careful not to waste even a drop. "I have to learn that factor fast."

Luminorbs were his only hope. If he could unlock the Lightfinder’s factor to track the threads of light connecting Luminorbs to living beings, he’d have a better survival chance.

Vieran sat cross-legged, eyes closed, his breath steady as he tried to dive deep into his thoughts. He focused, searching the corners of his mind for the factor hidden within the Lightfinder blueprint. It had to be there, lodged somewhere in his memory. But no matter how hard he concentrated, he found nothing. Time slipped away unnoticed, and hours of meditation yielded no breakthrough. Frustration welled inside him as he slowly opened his eyes.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He exhaled sharply, feeling both exasperated and relieved. At least no beasts had disturbed him during his meditation. But the grim reality remained. Without progress, his chances of survival dwindled with every passing hour. His mind raced, desperate to find a solution. His gaze drifted to the corrupted phantom core and the horseshoe beside him. They were both still tainted, but an idea crept into his thoughts.

He had heard stories of people who absorbed corrupted resources to push their blueprint progress forward. But doing so, the Nox in their bodies would increase, poisoning them bit by bit. His pulse quickened at the thought. Taking that path would be dangerous, borderline reckless. But staying stagnant in this forsaken place was just as perilous. "If I don’t grow stronger, I’m as good as dead."

A faint buzzing noise hummed from beyond the edge of the lantern’s protective light, sending a chill down his spine. Something stirred in the mist. He didn’t know what was out there, but he doubted he could survive another encounter unprepared. Time was up. He had to act now.

With determination, Vieran summoned a glowing magic circle in front of him. The runes along its edge flickered like candlelight as he placed the corrupted core and the horseshoe inside. The circle pulsed, waiting for his command. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and whispered, “Absorb.”

The circle responded instantly, pulling the items inward as a dark energy swirled around him. He gritted his teeth, his hands trembling as black, jagged veins spread across his skin, marking him with the corruption. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, but he endured, clutching the lantern tight as if it were his lifeline.

When the agony finally ebbed, Vieran collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. His body felt heavier and also stronger. He summoned the system window with a flick of his hand, eyes scanning the new information. The Nox concentration in his body had surged to 89%.

So close to the edge... Any more, and he’d risk becoming a phantom beast himself. But two new traits glimmered on the screen, offering a glimmer of hope.

[Your satiety has increased]

[Your speed has increased]

The first would stave off hunger longer, letting him stretch his limited supplies. The second promised faster movement, which could mean the difference between life and death.

Vieran closed the system window, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. The buzzing beyond the barrier had grown louder, more insistent. He didn’t know what lay in the dark mist, but now, he felt just a little more prepared to face it.

Even so, Vieran clenched his fists, frustration gnawing at him. Despite the pain and sacrifice, he had failed to unlock the factor he desperately needed. Worse, the Nox concentration in his body loomed at a dangerous 89%. At this level, it would take a month for the corruption to subside naturally—unless he got his hands on a purified core, which was unlikely out here. Still, he had no choice but to endure.

He exhaled slowly, trying to clear his mind. Complaining won't help. "At least I’m still alive... and I became a Lightseeker." The thought gave him a flicker of hope.

No more wasting time. Determined, Vieran sat down, preparing to dive into meditation again. But before he could close his eyes, a glimmer caught his attention, a flickering light moving through the dark mist beyond his barrier. His heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened with cautious hope.

"Light... That means someone’s out there!"

Vieran’s exhaustion evaporated as excitement surged through him. He leaped to his feet, eager to approach the approaching light. But just as he took a step forward, the grim weight of reality set in. Not every encounter with another human was a blessing. The Voss group’s destruction hadn’t come at the hands of beasts. It was humans who had torn them apart.

His muscles tensed, and his breath slowed as he reminded himself that humans could be just as dangerous as any phantom beast.

Gripping the dagger in one hand and the pickaxe in the other, Vieran pressed his back against the nearest crate, staying hidden within the shadows of his lantern’s light sphere. His pulse drummed in his ears as he waited, every instinct on high alert.

The soft, steady glow from the approaching light grew closer, the mist parting in its wake. Whoever—or whatever—was coming would soon step into the lantern’s protective barrier. Vieran’s fingers tightened around his weapons, and he held his breath, ready for anything.

"Friend or enemy... I'll find out soon enough."

The faint, bobbing light grew closer until it crossed into the lantern’s sphere. For a split second, hope sparked in Vieran—only to be snuffed out as his face paled. The light wasn’t carried by human hands but attached to a grotesque appendage. A chill ran down his spine.

The creature stepped fully into the sphere, revealing itself. It was humanoid in shape but horribly wrong. Pale, slick skin stretched over wiry muscles, giving it the look of something unfinished. Its head resembled an antlered fish, wide glassy eyes bulging on either side, and gills pulsing faintly along its neck. From the center of its forehead, the light-emitting appendage swayed lazily, like a lure teasing prey. The light he had followed with hope was nothing more than a deadly trick.

Vieran’s heart pounded, but he forced himself to stay calm. He adjusted his grip on the dagger and pickaxe, feeling the rough wood and cold steel ground him. This was his second encounter with a phantom beast today, and he could feel the weight of that experience in his muscles, in the way his breathing stayed controlled instead of frantic. The fear was there, but it no longer paralyzed him.

The beast's blank, lifeless eyes locked onto him, and its lips curled back, revealing jagged, needle-like teeth. It hissed, and the sound was like bubbles rising from the depths of a stagnant pond.

Vieran took a step back, but only one. He wasn’t the same as he had been earlier—he had fought, bled, and endured. He felt the power simmering under his skin.

His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the weapons. "You’re not taking me," he whispered, more to himself than the creature.

The beast slithered forward with jerky, unnatural movements, the appendage bobbing hypnotically.

"This time, I’ll win unscathed," Vieran thought, determination hardening within him. He bent his knees, ready to strike.