The morning sun bathed Silvermere in its golden glow as Alaric left his home, clutching his newly obtained Hunter’s License. The small rectangular card felt heavier in his hand than it should have, not because of its weight but because of what it symbolized: his first step toward a future he wouldn’t allow to crumble again.
Hunter’s License
* Name: Alaric Thorne
* Rank: E
* Issued: Silvermere Adventurer’s Guild
“E Rank,” he murmured to himself. Though it was the lowest possible rank, it was a start. Every hunter began here. Even the strongest warriors and mages once stood where he stood now.
The license gave him access to low-tier dungeons, the safest proving grounds for novice hunters. He’d spent the evening before poring over dungeon listings at the guild, searching for a challenge he could handle. His choice was the Slimedepth Cavern, an F-Rank Dungeon located on the outskirts of the village. It was infamous for being teeming with slimes, monsters that were weak individually but overwhelming in numbers.
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Alaric’s equipment was modest—an iron sword gifted by his father and a set of novice armor, its leather and steel plates offering little more than basic protection. Still, it was enough for now.
Standing at the cavern’s entrance, he took a deep breath. The air smelled of damp earth and faint traces of rot. Memories of his past life swirled in his mind, reminding him of the countless times he had walked into dungeons just like this one.
“Slimes,” he muttered, gripping his sword tightly. “Regenerative, agile, and nearly impossible to kill without destroying their cores.”
His past experience gave him an edge, but his current body was weak, and his skills were still undeveloped. He needed to be careful.
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The dungeon’s interior was dark, lit only by faintly glowing moss that clung to the walls. The sound of squelching echoed through the narrow corridors as the first group of slimes came into view.
They were gelatinous creatures, their translucent bodies wobbling as they moved. Inside each one was a small, glowing orb—their core and their only true weak point.
Alaric raised his sword, his heart pounding. The slimes surged toward him with surprising speed, their bodies undulating with unnatural agility.
The first slime leaped at him, and he sidestepped, slashing downward with his sword. His blade sliced through the gelatinous mass, but the slime reformed almost instantly, the cut useless.
“Of course,” Alaric muttered, frustrated. “The core.”
He focused on the glowing orb within the slime. As the creature lunged again, he thrust his sword directly at the core, shattering it. The slime quivered before collapsing into a puddle of goo, its essence dissipating.
“Got it,” Alaric said, exhaling sharply.
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For the next hour, Alaric repeated the process. He lured slimes individually, dodging their attacks and aiming directly for their cores. His movements were precise, honed by his past-life experience. Yet, his body struggled to keep up.
His arms ached from swinging the heavy iron sword, and his legs burned from constant dodging. The slimes weren’t strong, but their numbers were relentless. Each time he thought he had cleared an area, more appeared, their squelching bodies closing in from all sides.
One particularly aggressive slime managed to lash out with a pseudopod, striking his side. The novice armor absorbed most of the blow, but the impact left him winded.
“Damn it,” he muttered, clutching his ribs.
It was clear he couldn’t rely on strength alone. He needed to use his class skills.
Alaric activated Essence Extraction, targeting the remains of a defeated slime. A faint, glowing wisp rose from the puddle of goo, coalescing into a shimmering orb in his hand.
“Essence of Agility,” he muttered, recognizing the buff.
Without hesitation, he activated Essence Infusion, channeling the essence into his own body. A surge of energy coursed through him, and his movements became faster and more fluid.
As the next group of slimes attacked, Alaric darted between them with ease, his enhanced agility allowing him to avoid their strikes and target their cores with precision.
For the next few hours, he used the extracted essences to temporarily boost his agility and endurance, allowing him to fight more effectively. Each battle pushed him closer to his limits, but he refused to give up.
By the third hour, exhaustion began to set in. Alaric’s breaths were ragged, his arms trembling from the strain of wielding his sword. His MP was nearly depleted from repeated use of Essence Infusion, and his movements were slowing.
“This isn’t enough,” he thought bitterly, striking down another slime. “I need to be stronger. Faster. Smarter.”
But even as despair crept into his mind, he remembered the faces of his parents, their pride and disappointment mingled when he received his class. He remembered the ruins of Eryndor, the countless lives lost in the war against the Demon Lord.
“I won’t let it happen again,” he whispered, forcing himself to stand tall. “Not this time.”
The determination reignited a fire within him. With renewed focus, he pressed on, his past-life knowledge guiding him as he fought.
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After four grueling hours, the dungeon fell silent. The last slime dissolved into a puddle, its core shattered. Alaric sank to his knees, his body screaming in protest. Yet, despite the exhaustion, a notification appeared in his mind.
Level Up!
* Current Level: 4
* Stat Points Gained: 15
Alaric allowed himself a small smile. He had earned it. Opening his Status Window, he allocated the points carefully:
* Intelligence: +5
* Agility: +10
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Status Window
* Name: Alaric Thorne
* Class: Essence Sage
* Level: 4
* HP: 240/240
* MP: 400/400
* Strength: 15
* Agility: 6
* Intelligence: 20
* Defense: 4
Around him lay the remnants of his hard work—piles of slime cores and scattered mana crystals, glimmering faintly in the dim dungeon light. He had also collected several bottles of slime essence, which he could sell for a decent price at the guild.
As he packed the loot into his bag, his thoughts turned to the future.
“I need to be faster,” he mused. “Stronger. Smarter. The next dungeon will be tougher, and this was just the beginning.”
He clenched his fists, the memory of the Demon Lord’s cruel smile burning in his mind. “This time, I’ll be ready. Whatever it takes, I’ll win.”
With his resolve stronger than ever, Alaric stepped out of the dungeon, the setting sun casting a golden glow on his determined face. The road to strength was long, but he had taken his first real steps. And there was no turning back.