He took it from her, showing the group. “When you kill monsters outside the temple, you’ll sometimes find items like this,” he explained. “If you want to use one, just hold it in your hand.”

Aries pulled out a Water Producing Magical Item, demonstrating as water began to trickle from it. “This one creates water. But the other contains neurotoxins, so handle it carefully.”

He handed the item back to Susan.

“I can keep it?” she asked, surprised.

“Of course. You found it, it’s yours,” Aries replied, making it clear everyone was responsible for the items they found.

After a while, Aries pointed to a nearby tree. “Look closely. You’ll find trees with particularly round, green leaves. Everything that grows on these trees is useful, but be cautious—there are similar trees that are poisonous.”

He plucked a few white mushrooms from the tree, placing them into his bag. They were moss-like and helped with blood circulation.

“Can we take them?” Darius asked.

“Store as much as you can,” Aries confirmed. The tree, known as the ‘Sacred Tree,’ was rare in this forest.

‘We were lucky to find it,’ Aries thought. There was no telling when they’d encounter another one.

“Look, Dad! A mushroom!” Susan said, excitedly gathering more into her bag.

“I bet it’ll taste great grilled,” her father replied.

“I’ll make something tasty for you,” Susan promised.

As the others busied themselves with gathering, Aries’s attention was elsewhere. He crouched near the tree, searching the ground with his hands. Soon, he found it—a scratch mark from an animal’s claws.

‘Three-clawed Shrewmouse,’ he recognized. This was their territory.

The landscape shifted every midnight. Relying on memory alone would be dangerous. Knowing which creature’s territory they were in was essential.

And the Three-clawed Shrewmice weren’t to be underestimated. Though they were small, with sharp teeth and fast reflexes, they traveled in packs, making them dangerous.

‘If I’m right, there’s a high-grade storage item hidden in their territory,’ Aries recalled. Storage items were invaluable in this world.

Storage-type magical items were crucial. Their grade determined the amount one could store. If people didn’t use storage-type magical items for their belongings, they became easy targets for others.

Of course, the Shrewmice didn’t inhabit just one territory; they spread across various areas. He couldn’t be certain he would find what he sought here, but it was worth a try.

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'This might be a bit annoying.'

Aries furrowed his brow as he surveyed the nearby traces. It was clear there weren’t just a few dozen or even a few hundred of them. He estimated at least three thousand Shrewmice roamed this territory. It was best to accomplish his goals quickly and leave.

“If you’re all done gathering, we should start moving.”

He urged them to hurry.

“Ahhhhhhhh!”

“Get the hell away! Fuck off!”

Two men who lagged behind swung their swords wildly, screaming in panic. A moment of inattention had led them to be surrounded by Shrewmice.

Tsk.

Aries clicked his tongue. If it had been him in the past, he would have sensed this in an instant. Unfortunately, that was impossible in his current state.

'Maybe it was for the best.'

He couldn’t avoid it now. It was better to turn it into an advantage. In situations like this, some stats increased more rapidly. If he viewed it merely as a way to temper his body, it could actually be beneficial.

Aries raised his scimitar.

“Bring it on!”

He shouted to draw their attention. It was a risky move, but if he fought with everything he had, victory wasn’t impossible.

Screech. Screech.

One of the Shrewmice fell from above, claws raised to cut Aries’s neck.

Slash!

He began mercilessly dispatching the creatures, starting with a clean strike that left an air hole in the belly of the mouse. He aimed to take down one mouse per strike.

As he killed the Shrewmice, magical items poured out.

Name: Shrewmouse’s Strike

Rank: F

Classification: Single Use

Effect: For one time only, you can have the same effect as a Shrewmouse’s scratch.

It was an F rank—barely effective. On average, one dropped for every two Shrewmice he killed.

The reason he collected these magical items while slaying the Shrewmice was that they stacked. Individually, they were useless, but collect five of the same item, and the story changed. The name and rank would evolve.

'Spell enchantment.'

In the New World, this process was known as "spell enchantment." By collecting five identical magical items, one could transform the item into something with a stronger effect or even an entirely different one.

'Not yet.'

However, it wasn’t an item that pleased him.

Screech!

He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. A Shrewmouse tore at his shirt near the bellybutton, exposing his skin. Blood dripped from the crimson streaks marking his body.

He didn’t care.

Aries was accustomed to life-threatening battles. He pushed himself further.

Though he dodged their attacks with ease, he waited until they were close enough to counterattack.

''Endure these dangers, and your Agility will increase.''

Agility stats didn’t just boost speed; they were the "third eye." The so-called "sixth sense" was part of agility. To raise his Agility stat, he had to apply more pressure in these situations.

Creak!

Screech!

The Shrewmice turned their focus toward Aries, gathering around him. They recognized him as the most dangerous among them.

He kicked their carcasses to create a makeshift barrier. Being vulnerable on all sides was dangerous. He needed at least one side blocked to fend off their advance.

He slashed his scimitar without turning.

Gaak!

The mouse that lunged at him had its neck pierced by the scimitar.

Slash!

Blood sprayed everywhere as he withdrew the weapon.

Aries felt exhaustion creeping in. But he didn’t stop. He moved faster and fiercer as more Shrewmice encircled him.

Though covered in blood and sporting numerous wounds, his movements remained unchanged. His instincts took over as he lost half his sense of reason.

In this state, he managed to kill more than seventy Shrewmice.

Waaaaaaaang.

A faint sound emitted from the magical item.

At that moment, the Shrewmice that heard it became sluggish.

There we go.

The corners of his mouth curled into a sly smile.