Chapter 4: Fractured Resolve

The village gates loomed in the distance, framed by the golden hues of the setting sun. What once had been a modest settlement now resembled a stronghold under siege. Wooden barricades and hastily constructed watchtowers lined the perimeter, and a tense energy hung in the air. As Jae-Hyun and Ahri approached, the sharp glint of spearheads greeted them, catching the fading sunlight like small flames.

“Stop where you are!” a voice called from atop the nearest watchtower. The sentry’s tone was a mix of authority and apprehension, the kind that came from days of uncertainty and sleepless nights.

Jae-Hyun raised his hands slightly, his sharp gaze scanning the defenses. He noted the crude craftsmanship of the fortifications—planks nailed together in haste, gaps barely concealed by scraps of cloth or metal sheets. These weren’t the preparations of a village accustomed to war; they were the desperate measures of people who feared the unknown.

Ahri stepped forward, her voice steady. “It’s me, Ahri. We’ve returned.”

A wave of murmurs broke out among the villagers stationed nearby. They whispered as if seeing ghosts, their voices laced with disbelief. Slowly, several of them began stepping back, fear evident in their eyes. Jae-Hyun’s demeanor, sharp and unyielding, only seemed to deepen their mistrust.

“It’s them.”

“But… they said they were dead.”

“How did they survive?”

The gate creaked open hesitantly, and a handful of villagers approached, their faces pale with suspicion. Among them was Elder Hyun, leaning heavily on his cane. His sharp eyes scanned Jae-Hyun and Ahri with a mix of relief and unease.

“So, the rumors were false,” he said, his voice gravelly but firm. “You’ve returned alive.”

Jae-Hyun’s expression didn’t waver. He had no interest in entertaining the doubts of frightened villagers. “We took care of it,” he said bluntly. “But there’s something you need to see.”

He reached into his satchel and retrieved the fragmented stone, its surface cracked but still pulsing faintly with an ominous energy. A collective gasp rippled through the gathered crowd, some stepping back instinctively.

Elder Hyun’s eyes narrowed as he reached out, hesitating before taking the fragment in his weathered hands. He examined it closely, the faint energy humming beneath his touch. "This might explain the recent surge of monsters," he muttered. "Things like this don’t simply appear in the Outer Ring. May I keep it? Perhaps I can uncover more about its origins." He motioned to the villagers. “Go. There’s work to be done.”

One by one, the villagers dispersed, though their wary glances lingered as they returned to their tasks. Ahri sighed softly, her shoulders relaxing as the crowd thinned. She cast a quick glance at Jae-Hyun, noting his cold, measured demeanor. It was clear the villagers feared him—not just because of the artifact, but because of who he was becoming. One villager, clutching a charm in trembling hands, hesitated before speaking. "Elder, are you sure it's wise to keep such a thing? That... artifact could bring more harm than good." Elder Hyun gave the villager a reassuring glance but said nothing, his attention already returning to the mysterious fragment.

“You handled that well,” she said, glancing at Jae-Hyun.

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the village’s crude defenses. “This place isn’t ready for what’s coming,” he muttered. “If another attack happens, they won’t last.”

Ahri frowned. “Then we’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Jae-Hyun didn’t argue. Instead, he turned and began walking toward the small hut Elder Hyun had offered them before their last expedition. “Rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow, we get to work.”

The following morning, Jae-Hyun rose before dawn. The village was still quiet, the faint glow of the rising sun casting long shadows across the fortified streets. Determined to refine himself, he decided to begin training. As soon as he prepared himself and stepped into the clearing, the system flickered to life, almost as if responding to his unspoken thoughts. He stood in the clearing behind their hut, his breath visible in the crisp morning air. As he stretched and prepared himself, a flicker of determination passed through his thoughts. Almost as if in response, the system interface materialized suddenly, interrupting his focus and drawing his attention.

“System,” he said aloud. The familiar interface materialized before him, the menus flickering faintly as the Shop Upgrade notification appeared:

Shop Level 2 Unlocked.

New categories and items lit up in his vision. Jae-Hyun’s eyes scanned the expanded inventory, noting the new additions:

* Loot Boxes containing randomized rewards like skill tomes, stat boosters, and rare equipment.

* Keys for System Fractures, described as tools to access hidden challenges.

* Special Equipment, optimized for his abilities and growth.

He lingered on the "Keys" section. As he hovered over one of the glowing icons, a cryptic message appeared: "Prepare for challenges that transcend ordinary limits. The fractures of reality hide both glory and ruin. Choose wisely." Intrigued but cautious, Jae-Hyun decided to investigate this later, turning his attention to the immediate task at hand. Deciding to investigate later, he turned his attention to his immediate goal.

The system flickered again, this time displaying a new notification:

Daily Training Quest Unlocked.

Jae-Hyun skimmed the details:

Objective: Complete all listed exercises.

* 10 km Endurance Run

* 100 Sword Swings

* 15 Minutes of Mana Concentration

Reward: 1 Daily Training Loot Box Failure Penalty: -25% to all stats for 24 hours.

He smirked. “So, it wants me to prove myself,” he muttered, tightening the straps on his boots. “Fine.”

Jae-Hyun’s feet pounded against the forest path as he completed his endurance run. His breaths were steady, controlled, despite the morning chill biting at his skin. By the time he returned to the clearing, a thin sheen of sweat clung to him, and his muscles ached with a satisfying burn.

He grabbed his sword next, the familiar weight grounding him as he moved through the motions. Each swing was precise, deliberate. The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle, his form tightening with every strike. When the final swing landed, he exhaled, the motion leaving his arms trembling slightly.

Finally, he knelt in the clearing, closing his eyes as he began the mana concentration exercise. The effort required intense focus, and as he guided his energy, he felt a faint resonance with his Reaper’s Summoning skill. For a brief moment, it was as though he could sense his shadow summons watching from beyond the veil, their presence subtle but undeniable. This awareness sent a ripple of intrigue through him—a tantalizing hint of untapped potential. Slowly, he refined the flow, coaxing it into a smooth, controlled rhythm. By the time he opened his eyes, the morning sun had risen higher, bathing the clearing in warm light. Ahri stood at the edge of the clearing, silently watching him. She leaned against a tree, her expression unreadable as she observed the precision of his movements and the intensity in his gaze. There was something different about him—a quiet, relentless determination that she couldn't help but admire, even if it unsettled her. 'He's working so hard,' she thought, 'I can't stay behind'

Still, she found herself hoping that whatever drove him would also help them both survive the trials ahead.

The system’s notification chimed:

Training Complete. Reward: 1 Daily Training Loot Box.

Jae-Hyun opened the loot box, its contents glowing faintly as the system processed the reward:

Reward Obtained: Rare Skill Tome – Appraisal.

As the knowledge of the new skill flooded his mind, Jae-Hyun smirked. “This will come in handy.”

Jae-Hyun sat on the edge of the wooden bench outside the hut, the faint glow of dawn lingering over the fortified village. The villagers moved briskly through the narrow streets, some sparing wary glances his way. He ignored them, his thoughts consumed by the new skill etched into his mind.

Appraisal.

The skill was deceptively simple but brimming with potential. He had already tested it on the loot box's remnants, identifying subtle properties in the discarded fragments he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. It wasn’t flashy or destructive, but it could unveil secrets—a tool that could provide him with the edge he needed.

Still, there was something tantalizing about its deeper potential. As he turned the reward over in his thoughts, Ahri appeared from behind the hut, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.

“You’re up early,” she said, stepping into the morning light. “And I see you’re already brooding.”

Jae-Hyun glanced at her, smirking faintly. “Brooding is productive.”

Ahri gave a short laugh, crossing her arms. “Did you learn anything new from that box?”

He held up a finger, gesturing for her to watch. Picking up a small, seemingly mundane rock from the ground, Jae-Hyun activated Appraisal. A faint aura flickered over the stone as the system displayed its properties:

[Weathered Stone Fragment]

* Type: Material

* Rarity: Common

* Description: A weathered fragment of stone with no notable properties. Occasionally used for rudimentary alchemy.

“It’s not always groundbreaking,” he said, letting the rock drop. “But it’ll make identifying items faster. And if I’m lucky, it might point me to hidden uses for the more… obscure things.”

Ahri tilted her head. “So, you’re becoming a walking encyclopedia now?”

“If it keeps us alive, why not?” Jae-Hyun shrugged, standing up and stretching. “Come on. I need to test this skill on something worthwhile.”

The forest was quiet that morning, save for the occasional rustle of leaves as small creatures darted through the underbrush. The air felt heavy, laden with the faint scent of damp earth and something metallic—a trace of tension that pricked at their senses. Jae-Hyun moved with purpose, his steps silent and deliberate, each motion precise as if rehearsed a thousand times. Ahri followed close behind, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her blade, her eyes scanning for the source of the unease.

“What exactly are you looking for?” she asked, scanning their surroundings.

“A challenge,” Jae-Hyun replied. “Something strong enough to push me, but not so much that it’ll kill us both.”

Ahri sighed. “You really need to work on selling these plans of yours better.”

They hadn’t gone far before Jae-Hyun stopped abruptly. Predator’s Insight flared to life, highlighting faint tracks in the dirt. The impressions were deep, suggesting something large had recently passed through.

“What is it?” Ahri whispered.

Jae-Hyun crouched, running his fingers over the tracks. They were fresh, the deep impressions suggesting a large creature with considerable weight. “A Dire Claw. It’s fast, resilient, and smart enough to make things interesting. Perfect for a warm-up.” He spoke calmly, his tone betraying no fear but rather a calculated eagerness to test himself.”

Ahri raised an eyebrow. “Warm-up?”

“It’s Level 8, maybe 9. I’ll handle it,” Jae-Hyun said, his voice calm. “Stay back and cover me if things go south.”

Before she could protest, he moved forward, following the trail with practiced precision. The air grew heavier as they approached a clearing, the faint metallic tang of blood drifting through the trees.

And there it was—the Dire Claw. The beast was massive, its fur a dark, matted gray streaked with scars. Its sharp claws glinted menacingly in the morning light as it feasted on the remains of a smaller creature.

Jae-Hyun’s summons materialized silently, shadowy forms flanking him as he stepped closer. The Dire Claw’s ears twitched, and its head snapped up, blood dripping from its maw. A low growl rumbled from its throat as it turned to face him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Jae-Hyun muttered, his stance shifting. His blade glimmered faintly as mana coursed through it, the weight of the fight settling over him.

The Dire Claw charged, its movements a blur of speed and power. Jae-Hyun met it head-on, his shadow summons darting forward to intercept. The clash was explosive, the force of the impact sending dirt and leaves flying.

He moved with an almost eerie calm, his blade and summons in perfect synchronization. One shadow lunged for the beast’s hind leg while another distracted its line of sight. Jae-Hyun struck without hesitation, exploiting every opening his summons created. The Dire Claw, though ferocious, couldn’t keep up with the relentless coordination of his attacks. His summons pushed the beast into defensive postures, their movements fluid and precise, leaving no room for error.

“Not bad,” Jae-Hyun muttered, dodging a swipe that could’ve torn him in half. His blade found its mark, slicing into the beast’s shoulder. The Dire Claw howled, its movements growing erratic as it tried to retaliate.

Ahri watched from the tree line, her grip on her blade tightening as her gaze flickered between Jae-Hyun and the Dire Claw. His composure was unnerving; there was no hesitation, no wasted movement, only the calculated efficiency of someone growing too accustomed to battle. 'He’s changing,' she thought, a mix of admiration and unease settling in her chest. 'Can I keep up?''

The fight ended swiftly, Jae-Hyun’s blade finding the Dire Claw’s heart with surgical precision. The beast let out a final growl before collapsing, its massive form dissolving into shadows. Jae-Hyun stood over it, calm and unshaken, his breathing steady. The system processed the kill in silence, the faint hum of mana dissipating into the air.

Level Up: 10

Jae-Hyun exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow as the notification flashed before him. The familiar rush of power coursed through him, sharpening his senses.

Ahri stepped into the clearing, her gaze lingering on the dissipating shadows. “You call that a warm-up?”

He smirked. “I’m just getting started.”

Jae-Hyun moved deeper into the forest, the shadows lengthening as the morning light filtered through the canopy. Each step was calculated, his senses heightened from the surge of power he felt after leveling up. Despite the energy thrumming in his veins, frustration began to creep in. Every creature he encountered since the Dire Claw had been nothing more than a nuisance—small fry unworthy of his effort.

A pack of Duskwolves, their sleek forms darting between the trees, fell within minutes. His summons corralled them effortlessly, allowing him to dispatch them one by one. The experience points trickled in, but it was hardly enough to satisfy him. His level remained at a firm 10.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Ahri trailed behind, watching his efficiency with quiet admiration, though her unease lingered. “You’re restless,” she observed, breaking the silence.

Jae-Hyun exhaled sharply. “Because this is a waste of time. I need something stronger, something worth the effort.” He glanced at the horizon, the dense forest stretching endlessly before them. “Let’s keep moving.”

The air grew colder as they pressed on, a faint chill curling through the trees. Jae-Hyun’s instincts prickled, and Predator’s Insight flared in response. He froze mid-step, holding up a hand to signal Ahri to stop.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Something… different,” he murmured. His gaze fixed ahead, where the faint outline of a distortion shimmered in the air. To anyone else, it would’ve been invisible, but to Jae-Hyun, it was like staring at a tear in the fabric of reality. The distortion pulsed faintly, its edges flickering like a mirage.

The system chimed softly in his mind:

System Fracture Detected: Rank E Challenge. Stabilize Rift? Y/N

Ahri followed his gaze, her brows knitting together in confusion. "What are you looking at?"

Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed as he studied the distortion. "You really don’t see it?"

Ahri’s expression shifted to concern. "See what? Jae-Hyun, are you okay? You… you’re not hallucinating, are you?"

Jae-Hyun clenched his jaw, his gaze fixed coldly on the distortion. "You wouldn’t understand," he muttered, the frost in his tone matching the air around them. "Believe what you want. I’ll be right back.""

Ignoring her growing unease, he turned his attention back to the distortion ahead. The air around the rift grew colder, almost unnaturally so, as if the tear itself fed on the surrounding warmth. A faint vibration pulsed from the distortion, resonating through the ground and into his core. As Jae-Hyun reached instinctively for the key in his pouch, its heat became a sharp contrast to the bitter chill. The moment his fingers touched it, the artifact began to hum, its resonance aligning perfectly with the flickering rift before him.

“It’s a rift,” Jae-Hyun said finally, his tone steady. “And this key seems to be reacting to it”

Ahri’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

Jae-Hyun didn’t respond immediately. He appraised the rift, his mind calculating the risks. The system had labeled it Rank E—a challenge, but theoretically within his ability. With his level now at 10 and his summons growing stronger, he felt prepared.

“It’s Rank E,” he said. “That’s about where I should be right now.”

Ahri’s expression hardened. “And if you’re wrong? What if it’s more than you can handle?”

He smirked faintly, confidence flickering in his eyes. “Then I’ll make it work. I’ve come too far to back down now.”

Without waiting for further argument, he gripped the key tightly and stepped closer to the rift. The distortion reacted immediately, expanding outward as if acknowledging his intent. Tendrils of energy lashed out, wrapping around him in a cocoon of light. Ahri’s voice called out faintly, but it was muffled as the world around him dissolved into darkness. Her words were lost, yet the concern in her tone lingered in his mind like a faint echo. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if she would wait or move on. It didn’t matter. He had chosen this path, and no amount of hesitation would turn him away from it.

When the light faded, Jae-Hyun found himself standing in a realm of freezing cold. His breath crystallized into vapor, vanishing almost as quickly as it formed. The air clawed at his skin, each gust feeling like shards of glass slicing through his armor. The ground beneath him cracked softly with every step, frost spidering outward in delicate but ominous patterns. In the distance, faint, haunting whispers rode on the wind, as if the rift itself were alive and mocking his presence. Each sound set his nerves further on edge, yet he pressed forward, his resolve unshaken. It was a world designed to break the unprepared.

Welcome to the System Fracture. Objective: Survive.

The system’s voice echoed in his mind, cold and detached. A timer appeared in the corner of his vision, counting down from 24 hours. The realization that he would be trapped here for an entire day added a new weight to the already daunting challenge.

He tightened his grip on his sword, his summons flickering to life beside him. Their shadowy forms were more defined here, as if the rift amplified their presence. Jae-Hyun’s eyes scanned the area, every nerve on edge.

The first challenge didn’t take long to announce itself. The ground trembled beneath him, fissures forming as shards of ice broke apart and reassembled with unnatural precision. A low hum echoed through the expanse, growing louder as the source revealed itself. From the shifting darkness emerged a hulking creature. Its jagged, crystalline body refracted the dim light, each movement accompanied by the sharp crackle of frozen tendrils coiling and snapping. The very air seemed to recoil around it, intensifying the cold until even breathing became a challenge. Its malevolent gaze pierced the gloom, glowing with a cold fury that felt almost sentient. Its eyes—if they could be called that—glowed with malevolent intent.

Crystal Warden – Rank D

Jae-Hyun’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The Crystal Warden roared, its cry reverberating through the icy expanse like a crashing glacier. The sound alone was enough to make Jae-Hyun grit his teeth. This was no ordinary enemy—its sheer presence felt suffocating, as though the rift itself had birthed a force meant to crush him. His summons materialized at his side, their forms darker and more defined than ever. The Warden towered over him, its crystalline frame exuding an aura of overwhelming power that dwarfed anything he had faced before. Even with the rift’s energy amplifying his summons, the gap between them was stark. He was outmatched, and he knew it. Yet, he refused to step back.

The Crystal Warden’s tendrils lashed out, one catching a summon mid-stride and shattering it into a burst of dark mist. Jae-Hyun used the moment to charge forward, his blade slicing through the frigid air. The Warden moved with a terrifying speed that belied its massive size, its crystalline arm sweeping through the air with enough force to cleave through solid ice. Jae-Hyun narrowly avoided the strike, the ground splitting beneath him from the impact. He countered with an upward slash, but the blow barely left a mark on the creature’s reinforced armor. Sparks flew, and his grip on the hilt tightened. The reality of the fight settled in: this wasn’t a creature he could overpower. He had to find another way.

System Notification: Crystal Warden’s Armor is Reinforced by Rift Energy. Exploit Weak Points for Maximum Effectiveness.

Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed. “Weak points, huh?” He activated Predator’s Insight, his vision sharpening as the skill highlighted faint cracks along the Warden’s structure. Its joints and the glowing core embedded in its chest pulsed faintly, marking them as potential targets.

“Let’s end this quickly,” he muttered, issuing new commands to his summons. Two of them darted toward the Warden’s legs, their shadowy claws raking against the icy terrain to create diversions. Meanwhile, a third summon leapt high, aiming for the beast’s head.

The Warden roared again, its tendrils striking out in a flurry of movement. One shadow summon managed to latch onto the beast’s arm, its claws digging into the crystalline surface to slow its movements. Jae-Hyun seized the opportunity, dashing forward with enhanced speed. His blade glowed faintly as he channeled mana into it, delivering a decisive strike to the creature’s exposed knee joint.

The crack deepened, but the Warden barely faltered. Its sheer resilience was staggering, shrugging off damage that would have felled lesser creatures. Jae-Hyun pressed on, sweat forming despite the freezing cold. Each strike pushed him closer to his limits, and every missed opportunity felt like a death sentence. He could feel the Warden adapting, its attacks becoming more precise, its movements more relentless. This was not a battle of equals; it was survival against something far stronger.

But the rift wasn’t done testing him.

The ground beneath Jae-Hyun’s feet suddenly shifted, icy spikes erupting without warning. He jumped back, narrowly avoiding the deadly formations. The Warden’s core pulsed brighter, its energy swelling as it entered a frenzied state. Jae-Hyun’s heart raced. The system didn’t offer him a strategy, didn’t even confirm his chances. The only directive was the timer, cold and impassive: Survive for 24 hours. It was clear now—he wasn’t meant to fight these creatures, just to endure. But retreating wasn’t an option for him. Not now.**

Jae-Hyun cursed under his breath. The beast’s movements became erratic, its attacks faster and more powerful. One of his summons was obliterated in an instant, the sheer force of the Warden’s strike scattering it like ash.

“Stay focused,” he reminded himself, his breath visible in the freezing air. Predator’s Insight continued to highlight the creature’s weak points, but the glowing core in its chest was now the most prominent.

He adjusted his strategy. With a mental command, his remaining summons positioned themselves to draw the Warden’s attention, darting in and out to avoid its devastating blows. Meanwhile, Jae-Hyun circled around, his eyes locked on the core.

When the opportunity came, he didn’t hesitate. Channeling all his mana into a single strike, he leapt forward, his blade aimed directly at the pulsating core. Time seemed to slow as the blade connected, the force of the impact sending a shockwave through the air. The core shattered with a brilliant explosion of light and energy, the Warden letting out one final, guttural roar before collapsing into a heap of jagged crystals.

Jae-Hyun landed in a crouch, his breath ragged and his body trembling from exertion. The Warden’s shattered form dissolved into the icy ground, leaving only silence and the oppressive cold. Yet, the rift itself seemed alive, its hostility unyielding. The temperature dropped further, the frost creeping up his boots, threatening to encase him where he stood. The ground beneath him shuddered faintly, as though warning him that this was far from over. Jae-Hyun clenched his fists, forcing himself to keep moving despite the biting chill. A notification flashed before Jae-Hyun's eyes as he caught his breath:

System Notification: Level Up: 11.

The brief surge of energy coursed through him, bringing a momentary relief to his aching body. Alongside it came another reward, a relic gleaming faintly in his inventory. He had pushed himself to the brink, scraping by on instinct and sheer determination. Jae-Hyun appraised the relic, its description appearing before him:

[Frostbound Relic]

* Type: Equipment

* Rarity: Rare

* Effect: Increases resistance to cold environments by 50%. Boosts mana regeneration in freezing conditions.

His struggle against the Warden hadn’t been wasted. The relentless combat had forced him to adapt, Predator’s Insight evolving to track the beast’s erratic movements with greater precision. Even his summons, though fragile compared to the Warden, had fought more cohesively under his direction. He was learning, growing—but at a cost.

He equipped it without hesitation, feeling the biting cold relent slightly as the relic’s effects took hold. The mana regeneration was subtle but noticeable, a welcome boon in this unforgiving environment. Yet, there was no relief. As he equipped the Frostbound Relic, his exhaustion settled in like a weight. His arms trembled slightly, and his breath came in uneven bursts. This was just the first challenge, and already he felt the limits of his strength creeping closer. His arms ached, his legs felt like lead, and the biting cold gnawed at his resolve. Doubt clawed at the edges of his mind: Am I strong enough for this? The timer ticked down mercilessly in the corner of his vision, a grim reminder of the hours yet to endure. I barely made it through one fight. How can I survive 23 more hours of this?

For a moment, the thought of hiding somewhere, of simply waiting out the rift’s trial, surfaced. But he crushed it just as quickly. He hadn’t come this far to cower. This was his chance to grow, to take his limits and shatter them, no matter the cost.

A faint shimmer on the horizon caught his eye, breaking through his swirling thoughts. Shapes moved against the icy backdrop, their forms growing clearer with each second. The shapes grew clearer: more monsters, larger and just as menacing, were converging on his position. The faint tremors beneath his feet grew stronger, echoing the beat of his racing heart. For a fleeting moment, he considered hiding—finding some crevice where he could wait out the remaining hours. But the thought was fleeting. He had entered this rift to grow, and he would take this opportunity to its fullest, no matter the cost. Dozens of them. His pulse quickened, the weight of reality sinking in. He couldn’t take them all on at once. He surveyed the area, noting the timer in the corner of his vision. Over 23 hours remained.

“One challenge down,” Jae-Hyun said to himself, his voice steady. “Let’s see what’s next.”

The timer glowed faintly in the corner of his vision: 9 hours remaining. The oppressive chill of the rift was unforgiving, gnawing at Jae-Hyun’s endurance as he trudged forward. His breath came in ragged bursts, every step feeling heavier than the last. The exhaustion was relentless; his body screamed for rest, his vision blurred at the edges. But rest was a luxury he couldn’t afford here.

The ground was littered with the evidence of his trials. Shattered corpses of icy beasts lay scattered around him, their forms dissolving into the frost-bitten earth as the rift consumed them. Jae-Hyun had fought tirelessly, the system notifications of his progress etched into his mind:

Level Up: 12. Level Up: 13. Level Up: 14. Level Up: 15. Level Up: 16.

Each kill brought growth, but it came at a cost. His body bore the marks of countless battles—deep gashes, bruises, and a persistent ache that refused to fade. His summons, which had been his lifeline throughout this ordeal, were flickering shadows of their former strength. They reappeared with every fight, only to be torn apart again.

Despite the pain, he pressed on. This was what he had chosen. This was what he needed. Yet doubt lingered at the edges of his resolve, whispering insidiously: Can you really make it?

Jae-Hyun shook his head, forcing the thought aside. He couldn’t afford to falter now. The weight of the remaining nine hours bore down on him like the icy air, suffocating and inescapable.

Then the ground trembled.

At first, it was subtle, a faint vibration beneath his feet. But it grew stronger, the cracks in the icy terrain spreading like veins. Jae-Hyun’s grip tightened around his blade as a deep, resonant growl echoed through the frozen expanse. From the shadows emerged a creature that dwarfed anything he had faced so far.

A colossal beast stepped into view, its massive frame covered in jagged, frost-encrusted scales that shimmered in the dim light of the rift. Its eyes glowed with a predatory intelligence, and its breath came in heavy puffs, each exhale a cloud of frost. The system displayed its designation:

Frost Revenant – Rank C.

Jae-Hyun’s heart skipped a beat. A Rank C monster. Here. His mind raced. This wasn’t just stronger than anything he had faced—it was in a completely different league. The system had said only to survive, but now survival seemed almost impossible.

What do I do? he thought, his breaths quickening. Run? Where would I go? Hide? To what end? The doubt clawed at him again, louder now, but he forced himself to confront it. No. I can’t run. I won’t. Where would that leave me? Weak. Useless.

He straightened his posture, his exhausted body trembling but unwilling to bow. If I can’t overcome this, how can I ever face them? My father. My brother. This... this is nothing compared to what’s waiting for me.

The Frost Revenant roared, shaking the ground and sending a flurry of ice shards into the air. The cold became sharper, each breath slicing through his throat like shards of glass. His muscles burned, and his body felt like it was one wrong move away from collapsing. Jae-Hyun's vision blurred momentarily, but he blinked the haze away, gripping his blade tighter.

"If I can't face this, what hope do I have against them?" he thought bitterly. His sister's face flickered in his mind—fragile, terrified, and relying on him. He couldn't afford to fail. Not here. Not now.

His jaw tightened. "Let’s do this."

The fight was chaos.

The Frost Revenant’s strength was overwhelming. Its massive claws tore through the ground with each swipe, forcing Jae-Hyun to dodge relentlessly. His summons were obliterated one by one, their dark forms unable to withstand even a single blow. Each attack from the Revenant left deep craters in the icy terrain, the impact sending shockwaves that threatened to knock Jae-Hyun off his feet.

He darted around the creature, using every ounce of his agility and Predator’s Insight to find an opening. The Revenant’s glowing core—embedded deep within its chest—was the only weak point he could identify. But reaching it was another matter entirely. Every time he got close, the beast would unleash a devastating counterattack, forcing him to retreat.

A clawed swipe came too fast, and Jae-Hyun barely managed to raise his blade in time. The force of the blow sent him sprawling across the icy ground, his back slamming into a jagged ice formation. Pain exploded through his body, his vision darkening for a moment. He struggled to his feet, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead.

His summons were gone. He was alone.

The Revenant roared again, charging toward him with terrifying speed. Jae-Hyun’s mind raced, doubt gnawing at him. Is this it? Am I going to die here? The thought sent a cold dread through him, worse than the icy air. But another voice rose within, stronger: No. Not like this. If I’m going to fall, I’ll fall fighting.

He forced his body to move, his resolve solidifying even as his strength waned. Then, a faint, familiar sensation stirred within him—a surge of power, raw yet controlled. It wasn’t the uncontrollable rage that had overtaken him before; this was different. It was steady, deliberate, like a fire fanned by resolve. His exhaustion didn’t fade, but it dulled, and his movements grew sharper, his blade feeling lighter in his grip. For the first time in the rift, he felt like he wasn’t merely surviving; he was fighting back, an edge honed by sheer will.

As long as I’m breathing, I can fight.

The Revenant lunged, its massive claw descending like a hammer. Jae-Hyun sidestepped at the last second, the impact sending shards of ice flying past him. He retaliated with a swift strike, his blade aiming for the cracks in its scales. The blow connected, but it was shallow, barely scratching the beast’s hide.

The Revenant retaliated, its tail whipping around and slamming into Jae-Hyun’s side. He was sent flying again, his body skidding across the ground. He gasped for air, the pain threatening to overwhelm him.

Get up. Get up! he screamed at himself.

Through the haze of pain, he saw it. The Revenant’s glowing core flickered briefly, the cracks around it pulsing faintly. It was a small window, but it was all he had.

Jae-Hyun forced himself to his feet, gripping his blade tightly. He channeled everything he had left into one final attack. His mana surged, the Frostbound Relic amplifying it as best it could. His vision blurred, but his focus was unwavering.

The Revenant charged, its maw opening wide as if to swallow him whole. Jae-Hyun sprinted forward, his blade glowing with a desperate intensity. Time seemed to slow as he leapt into the air, aiming directly for the core.

The blade struck true, piercing the Revenant’s chest with a resounding crack. The surge of power flowing through him guided his every motion, each strike imbued with precision and force. The beast let out a deafening roar, its frame convulsing violently as the glowing core splintered into fragments. A wave of light and ice exploded outward, engulfing the battlefield. Jae-Hyun felt the energy rippling around him, a chaotic dance of destruction and renewal. Yet, through the storm, he stood firm, the power within him steadying his every step as the Revenant crumbled to dust.

When the light faded, Jae-Hyun was on his knees, his blade buried in the icy ground. The Frost Revenant was gone, its remains scattered like glittering dust across the battlefield. His body screamed in agony, every muscle burning with exhaustion. The timer flickered faintly in his vision: 8 hours remaining. The rift felt more alive now, the air around him humming with an unseen force. For a fleeting moment, the ground beneath him shifted subtly, as though something far greater than the Revenant had stirred. A faint glow in the distance caught his eye, beckoning him forward—a path or a new threat, he couldn’t tell.

Despite the victory, exhaustion weighed on him like an anchor. His breath was uneven, his limbs trembling. But his grip on his blade tightened, and a faint smirk crossed his lips. This isn’t over. Not yet.

Jae-Hyun let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he forced himself to stand. His thoughts swirled, but one rose above the rest: I have no choice but to win. Not here, not later. Always. Because if I don’t, no one will save me. No one will save her.

Because to stop now would mean dying as the same weak person he was before.