Chapter 9: A Savage Encounter

Niko stared at the bald man with a mixture of awe and surprise. The battle had ended as quickly as it had begun, but the sheer brutality of it left him shaken. The beetle hadn’t stood a chance. In a game, fights were methodical—health bars and damage numbers ticking down slowly until the enemy hit zero. But this? This was nothing like a game. This was savage, bloody, and real.

The bald man’s attack had been devastatingly efficient, but it had cost him. Niko’s eyes focused on the man’s hand, bruised and bleeding freely. Despite the injury, the man didn’t flinch. He calmly ripped a piece of his sleeve and tied it around his hand, staunching the flow of blood with practiced precision.

“There’s a price to his strength,” Niko thought, observing how the man’s skill had come at a cost. “He nearly lost his hand for this fight—maybe for us, or maybe just for himself.”

The crowd around them murmured in shock and admiration.

“Who is this guy?!” someone whispered.

“How is he so powerful?” another voice trembled, a mix of fear and awe.

As the dead beetle lay before them, its lifeblood staining the earth a sickly green, several people couldn’t hold back their revulsion. The smell of the creature’s spilled blood hung in the air, thick and nauseating. A few of the onlookers turned away, vomiting as the sight and stench overwhelmed them.

Then, something strange happened. The beetle’s corpse began to glow. A soft, white aura surrounded it, shimmering like stardust. The light slowly pulled together, coalescing into a translucent sphere that floated just above the beetle’s body. The sphere pulsed for a moment before vanishing, leaving behind a single object—a small, unassuming knife.

The bald man stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he bent down and picked up the blade. For a moment, he examined it, turning it over in his hands as if weighing its worth. It didn’t seem special—just a plain, sharp knife made of some unknown metal. Then, without a word, he muttered, “Store.”

A faint glow emanated from his wrist, and in an instant, a black watch appeared. The knife disappeared from his hand, absorbed into the watch with a soft flash of light.

“That watch... it lets us store items!” Niko’s eyes widened as he instinctively glanced down at his own wrist. Nothing. He didn’t have a watch—at least, not yet. “Do I need to find an item before it activates?”

Before Niko could dwell on the thought, a gut-wrenching scream pierced the air.

“AHHH!!”

Everyone’s attention snapped toward the source of the cry. Another beetle—wounded but still ferocious—was wreaking havoc on the other side of the battlefield. Its body was riddled with injuries: one eye gouged out, wings torn, legs missing. But even in its weakened state, it thrashed about, tearing through the remaining survivors with terrifying strength.

A man with a crazed look in his eyes stood at the front of the group, his tongue unnaturally long, lashing out at the beetle like a whip. His tongue slashed through the air with frightening speed, striking the beetle over and over. Others around him hurled rocks or makeshift weapons at the creature, doing their best to bring it down.

But it was taking everything they had to do what the bald man had accomplished with a single, brutal strike.

The gap in strength between those at level 1 and those at a higher level is enormous, Niko thought, watching in grim realization. Even a small difference in level was enough to create a chasm in power.

The other fly-like bugs that had joined the beetles were already dead, their weak, insectoid bodies no match for the humans who had stood their ground. Niko realized that these smaller creatures had one glaring weakness—while they were fast, their speed made them difficult to maneuver. The humans who had fled might have survived if they’d only fought back instead of running in terror.

Seizing the opportunity, Niko turned his attention to the massive beetle’s corpse at his feet. The dead creature was still and silent, but its presence made him uneasy. Even so, he knew what he had to do.

“[Spirit King’s Order].”

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The faint green aura that usually surrounded Niko unseen by the mundane eyes, flared to life, becoming darker, more tangible. It moved like ghostly tendrils, reaching out from his body toward the lifeless beetle. The same aura began to envelop the creature, though weaker and less defined. The connection was made—Niko could feel it.

As the aura worked its magic, the people nearby looked at Niko with a mix of unease and curiosity. Some instinctively stepped back, feeling the strange energy pressing down on them like a weight. Others watched in silent admiration, recognizing the power at play.

“Whoa… another one?” a woman whispered, her voice filled with awe.

“Why do I feel so... afraid?” someone else muttered, their gaze fixed on Niko.

From the back of the beetle’s corpse, a small orb of light began to form. The translucent green sphere slowly floated upward, its center a soft white light, surrounded by wisps of green mist. It looked almost fragile, like a glass orb filled with glowing smoke.

The orb hovered toward Niko, its movements clumsy but determined. The onlookers stared in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sight. Even the bald man, who had remained expressionless throughout the battle, turned his gaze toward Niko, a flicker of curiosity passing across his face for the first time.

The aura around Niko’s body settled, fading back to its usual faint glow as the green orb began to orbit around him, like a moon circling a planet.

Intrigued, Niko activated Celestial Probe.

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[Name: Weak Spirit]

Rank: None

Potential: None

[Status]

Strength: 1

Constitution: 1

Agility: 1

Intelligence: 0

Mana: 0

Mana Power: 0

Spirit Power: 0/0 (No potential)

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A look of disappointment crossed Niko’s face. It’s… weak. hopefully not useless in battle.

He quickly understood why—the spirit had no potential because the beetle hadn’t been killed by him. Without the ability to grow stronger, the spirit was little more than a fragile companion. Still, Niko reasoned that even a weak spirit could serve as a temporary shield, something to protect him in a pinch.

“To summon something like the Spirit King did... I need to kill my own monster,” Niko thought, clenching his fists. Only then can I command spirits with real power.

Though disappointed, Niko couldn’t help but feel a small sense of security as the spirit orb floated around him. It was weak, but it was still something.

He checked his status and noted that his mana power had dropped to two. A countdown appeared in his mind—five minutes until his mana fully recovered.

Suddenly, the sound of cheering snapped Niko out of his thoughts.

“Yes!!” a man cried in jubilation.

“Thank God!” a woman sobbed in relief.

Niko turned to see the others celebrating the death of the final beetle. The battle was over, but the aftermath was grim. The grass was stained with crimson blood, and the ground was littered with bodies. Of the hundred who had been summoned, only a fraction remained.

Niko’s chest tightened as he took in the scene. Death was everywhere. The battlefield was a sea of carnage—bodies twisted and broken, some missing limbs, others lying in pools of their own blood. It was a sight he knew he would have to get used to. But that didn’t make it any easier.

All around him, people began to vomit or faint, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving them to face the horror of what had just happened. Niko’s own stomach churned, but he fought back the nausea.

He glanced at the bald man, who stood motionless, his expression calm as he surveyed the corpses at his feet. That’s what I need to be, Niko thought. Unshaken. Cold. Focused.

“This is the world now,” Niko whispered to himself. “Life and death, always hanging in the balance.”

He clenched his fists. Nothing will stop me from finding Anita. I’ll survive this. I’ll become stronger.

Just then, a slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the jungle, cutting through the cheers and sobs like a knife. Everyone turned toward the source of the sound, their hearts pounding in their chests.

From the shadows of the jungle, a man emerged.

He wore leather armor, his dark hair long and wild beneath a leather Norman-style helmet. His skin was tanned, and his muscular build was framed by armor made from what looked like the exoskeletons of the beetles they had just fought. His shoulders were protected by the shiny, dark blue chitin, and a small sword hung at his waist. Despite the grim situation, he wore a wide smile.

“A human!” someone shouted in surprise.

“We’re saved!” another voice called out, filled with hope.

As the man walked toward the group, people moved closer, drawn to him like moths to a flame. It was as if the death and destruction around them had faded away, replaced by the promise of salvation.

The man’s smile grew as he stopped