Chapter 5 - Forged in Frost
The air in the rift hung heavy, cold, and unyielding. Each breath Jae-Hyun drew was a calculated decision—a sharp sting of freezing pain that felt like inhaling shards of glass. His boots crunched softly against the frost-covered ground, leaving faint trails in the powdery snow that vanished almost as quickly as they appeared. The rift was alive, pulsating with an unseen energy that seeped into his skin, feeding on his exhaustion and threatening to unravel his resolve.
"Eight hours," Jae-Hyun muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the faint hum of the rift’s energy. "Just eight more hours."
The faint timer flickering in the corner of his vision was both a lifeline and a curse. Its relentless countdown reminded him of the task ahead, the brutal reality that survival wasn’t guaranteed. He tightened his grip on his blade, the familiar weight grounding him. Despite the growing numbness in his fingers, he forced himself forward, every step an act of defiance against the icy terrain and his own failing body.
His summons trailed behind him, their shadowy forms flickering like dying embers. They were weaker now, their strength sapped by the relentless battles and the oppressive cold. Yet, they persisted, mirroring Jae-Hyun’s unyielding will. Each movement was precise, deliberate, as if they understood that even the slightest misstep could mean death. The icy ground beneath them was treacherous, each step threatening to give way to hidden crevices or send them sliding into the jagged frost-covered terrain. The oppressive cold sapped their strength, and every motion had to be carefully calculated to conserve energy. A single moment of hesitation or error could mean not just failure, but a swift and unforgiving end.
Ahead, the landscape shifted. The frost-covered ground cracked and groaned beneath the weight of an unseen force. Shimmering distortions danced in the air, creating an eerie mirage that blurred the boundaries between reality and illusion. Jae-Hyun paused, his senses heightened as he scanned his surroundings. Predator’s Insight activated instinctively, its faint glow highlighting faint tracks in the snow. The air seemed to thrum with tension, each sound amplified in Jae-Hyun’s ears—the crunch of snow beneath his boots, the distant groan of ice shifting. His pulse quickened, his breath forming faint clouds in the freezing air as his senses sharpened. The tracks were deep, their size suggesting a creature of immense weight and power, and a faint tremor in the ground hinted that it might still be nearby. The oppressive silence around him felt alive, as if the rift itself were watching, waiting for him to falter. Deep impressions, far larger than any creature he had encountered so far, led toward a distant cavern bathed in an unnatural blue light.
A warning flickered across his vision:
System Notification: New Objective: Investigate the Source of the Rift’s Energy. Optional: Survive Final Trial.
"Final trial," Jae-Hyun murmured, his lips curling into a grim smile. "Of course."
The cavern loomed ahead, its jagged entrance framed by icicles that dripped with an almost unnatural rhythm. The faint blue glow from within pulsed like a heartbeat, casting shifting shadows across the icy walls. Jae-Hyun stepped cautiously inside, his blade held at the ready. The air grew colder, each step deeper into the cavern amplifying the oppressive chill until it felt like the cold itself was alive, pressing against his chest.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the rift’s energy surged. The ground trembled, and the air became thick with frost-laden mist. Jae-Hyun’s summons materialized beside him, their forms flickering more solidly here, as if the rift’s energy amplified their presence. A low, guttural growl echoed through the cavern, reverberating off the icy walls and settling deep into Jae-Hyun’s bones.
Predator’s Insight flared, and Jae-Hyun’s vision sharpened. A massive silhouette emerged from the mist, its crystalline body refracting the dim light into shards of color that danced across the cavern walls. The creature’s jagged frame was unlike anything he had seen before, its towering presence exuding a malevolent intelligence that set his nerves on edge.
System Notification: Frost Revenant Prime – Rank B.
Jae-Hyun’s breath hitched. A Rank B monster. This wasn’t just a trial—it was a death sentence.
The Frost Revenant Prime roared, its cry splitting the air with a sound like shattering glass and distant thunder, a deafening cacophony that reverberated through the cavern walls. The sound was suffocating, pressing down on Jae-Hyun's chest as if the very air had turned against him. The force of the roar sent vibrations rippling through the icy ground, dislodging shards of frost and ice from the ceiling above. The impact of the sound alone was enough to make Jae-Hyun’s ears ring, a relentless reminder of the beast’s overwhelming presence. It felt as though the cavern itself recoiled, groaning under the weight of the primal, bone-chilling sound. Jae-Hyun’s summons leapt into action, their shadowy forms darting toward the beast with a ferocity born of desperation. But their attacks were futile; the Revenant barely flinched as it swatted them aside like insects. Each shadowy figure dissolved upon impact, their presence erased in an instant, leaving Jae-Hyun truly alone against the monstrous foe. The Revenant barely seemed to register their attacks, its crystalline arms sweeping through the air and dispersing the summons with terrifying ease. Each shadowy form flickered and dissolved upon impact, their strength insignificant against the overwhelming power of the monster.
Jae-Hyun dodged the first strike, his boots skidding on the icy ground as he closed the distance. His blade glowed faintly with mana as he slashed at the creature’s leg, aiming for a weak point highlighted by Predator’s Insight. The strike connected, sending a crack spidering across the Revenant’s crystalline surface, but it was far from enough to slow the beast.
The Revenant retaliated with a devastating backhand swipe. Jae-Hyun barely managed to raise his blade in time, the impact sending him flying across the cavern. He crashed into the icy wall with a sickening thud, the breath knocked from his lungs. Pain exploded through his body, but he forced himself to his feet, his grip on his blade unwavering.
"If I fall here, it’s over," he muttered, his voice laced with determination. "I have no choice"
The Revenant charged again, its crystalline tendrils lashing out with frightening speed. Jae-Hyun rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow that shattered the ground where he had stood moments before. His mind raced, desperate for a strategy as his mana reserves dwindled. The beast was relentless, its every move calculated to crush him.
It was then that a stroke of pure chance altered the fight. With a sharp, deafening crack, a massive shard of jagged ice broke free from the ceiling, plummeting toward the Revenant. The creature, mid-strike, had no time to react as the shard crashed into its shoulder with an earth-shaking impact, momentarily staggering the beast. Jae-Hyun froze for a heartbeat, the unexpected turn of events feeling almost surreal. Disbelief flickered across his face before pure instinct took over. Then, driven by pure instinct and desperation, he charged forward, seizing the fleeting opportunity fate had handed him.
"Now!" he growled, charging forward with every ounce of strength he could muster.
His blade struck the core embedded in the creature’s chest, the impact amplified by the desperation coursing through him. The Revenant let out a final, guttural roar as its crystalline frame shattered, fragments of its body scattering across the icy ground. The glow from the core dimmed, then extinguished, leaving the cavern in an eerie silence.
System Notification: Final Trial Surpassed. Congratulations, Challenger! You have exceeded the survival objective and completed the rift’s ultimate challenge.
Reward: Mythic Relic – Fractured Crown of Ice.
The relic materialized in Jae-Hyun’s hands, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow. The system’s description flashed before his eyes:
[Fractured Crown of Ice]
* Lore: Forged from the shattered essence of the Frost Revenant Prime, this relic carries the power of the rift itself. Its icy dominion whispers of an ancient, forgotten war.
* Type: Mythic Relic
* Effect: Reduces damage from all elemental attacks by 30%. Increases mana regeneration by 50%. Grants access to "Frozen Dominion," a temporary area-wide freezing effect.
When Jae-Hyun emerged from the rift, the world outside felt alien. The oppressive cold was gone, replaced by the familiar chill of the forest. Blood trickled from a deep gash on his forehead, his movements slow and labored. His armor was battered, and every step he took seemed to take more out of him.
Ahri run to him, her expression a mix of relief and frustration. "You’re alive," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "What happened in there?"
Jae-Hyun didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was cold, distant, as if replaying the events of the rift in his mind. "Nothing you need to worry about," he muttered, brushing past her.
Ahri frowned, stepping in front of him to stop him. "Jae-Hyun, this isn’t sustainable. You push yourself to the edge, and I can see it wearing you down. I don’t know what happened in there, but you can’t keep pretending you’re invincible. Please... be careful."
His eyes met hers, cold and unyielding, like a blade's edge. "Careful?" he repeated, his voice sharp and cutting. "You think I don’t know what I am? That I survived in there because of some grand skill or strength? It was luck, Ahri. Blind, stupid luck." He took a step forward, his voice lowering to a bitter growl. "So don’t stand there and lecture me about being careful when the only thing that kept me alive was chance. Next time, I might not be so lucky."
Ahri’s jaw tightened, her frustration barely contained as she stepped closer. "And what if that’s true? What if next time luck isn’t on your side? Does that mean you give up now? That you stop trying?" Her voice wavered, a mix of anger and desperation. "You’re stronger than you think, Jae-Hyun. Luck may have helped you this time, but it’s not the only reason you survived. Stop punishing yourself for being human."
The path back to the village was steeped in silence, save for the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Jae-Hyun walked ahead, his posture stiff and his breaths still uneven, while Ahri trailed a few paces behind, her expression dark with unspoken frustration. Neither of them seemed willing to break the icy quiet.
As they neared the edge of the forest, a flicker of light drew Jae-Hyun’s attention. The system interface materialized before him without warning, and his eyes scanned the notifications:
System Notification: Level Up: 11! Level Up: 12! Level Up: 13! Level Up: 14!
His jaw tightened as he absorbed the information. Each level felt hollow, a reminder of the brutal cost of his survival. He dismissed the notifications with a flick of his hand, his frustration only deepening.
"How long was I gone?" he asked abruptly, his tone clipped.
Ahri looked up sharply, caught off guard by the sudden question. "What does it matter?" she replied, her voice colder than she intended. "Barely an hour."
Jae-Hyun stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowing as he processed her words. "An hour? Are you sure it wasn't a whole day?" The rift’s horrors replayed in his mind: the endless cold, the relentless battles, the Frost Revenant Prime. It hadn’t been just an hour to him. A grim thought crossed his mind, the pieces falling into place. Time moved differently inside the rift. One day in there for every hour out here—that’s what it felt like. It made sense, in a cruel, twisted way.
"Well, it wasn’t," she snapped, crossing her arms. "And maybe if you’d actually talk instead of sulking, I’d understand what’s got you so wound up."
His expression darkened, and he turned away without another word, resuming his pace toward the village. Ahri let out a sharp breath, muttering under her breath as she followed. The tension between them hung heavy, each of them simmering in their own thoughts as the village gates came into view. "You disappeared into that thing, and... it was barely sixty minutes before you stumbled back out."
Jae-Hyun’s brows furrowed, his hand tightening around the hilt of his blade. "An hour?" he muttered, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. "It felt like a day—no, longer." His gaze dropped to the frozen ground, his mind replaying the rift’s horrors: the endless cold, the relentless battles, the Frost Revenant Prime.
Ahri took a cautious step closer, her eyes scanning his battered form. "What happened in there, Jae-Hyun? What did you see?"
"It doesn’t matter," he replied curtly, straightening himself and brushing past her. "None of it does."
"It clearly matters," she shot back, her tone firm. "You’re shaken, and I’ve never seen you like this before."
Jae-Hyun stopped, his shoulders tense, but he didn’t turn to face her. "Time moves differently in there," he said after a moment, his voice quieter, almost distant. "Every second felt like an eternity. I fought, I bled, and I survived because of luck. Not strength, not skill. Just blind luck."
Ahri frowned, her concern deepening. "And you hate that, don’t you? That it wasn’t something you earned."
His silence was answer enough.
The village around them was coming to life as the sun climbed higher into the sky. Villagers moved about their tasks, their wary glances frequently darting toward Jae-Hyun as if he were some foreign specter. He ignored them, his focus entirely on the thoughts swirling in his head.
Ahri walked beside him, her pace measured to match his uneven steps. "You’re stronger than you think," she said softly. "Luck might have played a part, but it’s not the only reason you came back alive."
Jae-Hyun gave a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. "I don’t need you to sugarcoat it for me, Ahri. I know exactly how close I was to dying in there. If luck had turned even slightly, I wouldn’t be here now."
"But you are here," she pressed. "And that means something."
He stopped suddenly, turning to face her. "Does it?" he asked, his voice sharp enough to cut. "Because all I feel is that it wasn’t enough."
Ahri met his gaze, her eyes steady despite the storm brewing in his. "Then make it enough," she said simply. "Use it. Grow stronger. Don’t waste this chance." She gestured toward the villagers in the distance. "Because whether you see it or not, there are people who need you. People who are counting on you."
Jae-Hyun stared at her for a long moment before finally exhaling, the tension in his shoulders loosening just slightly. "You sound like you know what you’re talking about."
"Maybe I do," she replied with a faint smile. "Or maybe I just know you well enough to see what you’re trying to hide."
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Jae-Hyun stepped through the village gates with heavy strides, his body still aching from the trials within the rift. The sun was high now, casting warm light over the fortified streets, but it did little to melt the frost that seemed to cling to him. Villagers turned their heads as he passed, their eyes filled with a mix of fear, unease, and perhaps even a trace of admiration. Whispers followed in his wake, voices hushed but pointed:
"Did you see him? He looks like he’s been to the grave and back."
"Stay away from him. Nothing good follows a man like that."
"Or maybe he’s exactly what we need."
Jae-Hyun paid them no mind, his focus set solely on reaching the small hut Elder Hyun had provided. Before he could make it far, the elder himself appeared, leaning heavily on his cane. His sharp eyes scanned Jae-Hyun, taking in the blood-streaked armor and his unsteady gait. "You look like you’ve been through hell," Elder Hyun said, his voice gravelly but tinged with concern. "What happened out there?"
Jae-Hyun stopped briefly, his expression unreadable as his gaze flicked toward the elder. "Nothing I couldn’t handle," he replied curtly, his tone cold enough to discourage further questions. He kept the truth buried, the system and its power his own secret to bear. Trusting others with such knowledge could mean exposing himself to risks he wasn’t willing to take.
Elder Hyun’s brows knit together, his concern deepening. "You’re hiding something," he said, leaning forward slightly. "This village—these people—they deserve to know if there’s danger."
Jae-Hyun’s jaw tightened, his patience clearly waning. "There’s nothing to worry about," he said flatly, stepping around the elder without breaking stride. "I handled it. That’s all you need to know."
Elder Hyun watched him go, his expression troubled, but he did not press further. Jae-Hyun disappeared into the distance, his steps steady despite the weight he carried.
Once inside the hut, Jae-Hyun collapsed onto the narrow cot in the corner. The moment his body hit the thin mattress, exhaustion washed over him like a wave, but his mind refused to rest. The events of the rift replayed in his thoughts, each detail sharp and vivid: the Frost Revenant Prime, the relentless cold, the shattering realization of how close he had come to death.
He sat up abruptly, pulling the satchel from his side. The Fractured Crown of Ice seemed to hum faintly as he withdrew it, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly light. As his fingers brushed its cold surface, a faint pulse of energy resonated through him, sending a shiver down his spine. For a brief moment, it almost felt alive, as though the relic itself was aware of his presence. For a moment, he simply stared at it, his mind racing.
[Fractured Crown of Ice]
* Type: Mythic Relic
* Effect: Reduces damage from all elemental attacks by 30%. Increases mana regeneration by 50%. Grants access to "Frozen Dominion," a temporary area-wide freezing effect.
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed as he reread the description. The relic was powerful, no question about it. But its presence raised more questions than it answered. What exactly are rifts? And why do they exist? Was it meant to test him? Trap him? Or something else entirely?
He set the crown aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His hands clenched into fists as a single thought consumed him: he needed to grow stronger. This wasn’t enough. Surviving by luck, relying on chance—it wasn’t enough. If he wanted to uncover the truth, if he wanted to protect himself and those who mattered, he couldn’t allow himself to remain this weak.
Jae-Hyun stood, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as resolve hardened in his chest. His current training regimen wasn’t enough. If he wanted to face whatever forces had placed the Frost Revenant Prime in that rift, he needed to be unrelenting.
"I’ll double it," he muttered to himself, pacing the small room. "Double the runs, the drills, the mana control exercises. I’ll rebuild myself from the ground up if I have to."
He glanced at the faint glow of the relic, its enigmatic presence serving as a reminder of how far he still had to go. The thought fueled his determination.
The system interface flickered into view as if responding to his determination. The Daily Training Quest notification reappeared, the tasks unchanged, but now they felt inadequate. Jae-Hyun dismissed the interface with a sharp motion, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, "it starts. No shortcuts, no excuses."
His gaze lingered on the crown one last time before setting it aside. The weight of exhaustion pulled at him, and he knew he needed rest. He stripped off his battered armor with slow, deliberate movements, revealing the bruises and cuts that lined his body. Fetching a small basin of water, he cleaned his wounds as best he could, the sting of cold water biting into his skin but doing little to distract his restless mind.
Finally, Jae-Hyun lay down on the cot, the rough mattress doing little to comfort his aching muscles. His eyes closed, but his thoughts refused to quiet. Visions of the rift, the Frost Revenant Prime, and the relic flashed behind his eyelids. Still, sleep crept in, heavy and inevitable, wrapping him in its embrace as his body surrendered to the exhaustion.
The first rays of dawn broke over the village, casting long shadows as Jae-Hyun stood in the clearing behind the hut. The cold air nipped at his skin, but he paid it no mind. He was already halfway through his morning routine, his body moving with a relentless determination.
His breaths came in sharp, controlled bursts as he finished his tenth lap around the clearing, the frost-covered ground crunching beneath his boots. The cold air bit at his exposed skin, and his legs burned with every step, muscles screaming for relief. But Jae-Hyun ignored the pain, each stride hammering home a singular truth: rest wasn’t an option. Not anymore.
The system chimed softly in his mind:
Daily Training Quest Progress:
* 10 km Run: Complete (20/10)
* 100 Sword Swings: Complete (100/100)
* 15 Minutes of Mana Concentration: Complete (15/15)
Jae-Hyun smirked faintly, wiping the sweat from his brow. The familiar interface appeared before him, and the "Claim Reward" button flickered at the bottom of the screen. But instead of claiming it, he dismissed the notification with a sharp flick of his hand.
"Not yet," he muttered, gripping his sword tightly. "I’m not done."
He began the second half of his sword swings, each motion deliberate and precise. The weight of the blade felt heavier with each strike, his muscles trembling from the strain. By the time he completed the last swing, his arms felt like lead, but the system chimed again:
Daily Training Quest Progress: Complete. Reward Available: Rank D Daily Training Loot Box.
The notification lingered in his vision, but Jae-Hyun ignored it. Instead, he knelt in the clearing, closing his eyes as he began the second half of the mana concentration exercise. The familiar sensation of energy flowing through him calmed his mind, each breath steadying his resolve. As he pushed further, the system chimed again, a new notification catching his attention:
Daily Training Milestone Achieved: Progress Surpassed. Bonus Reward: Rank C Daily Training Loot Box Upgrade.
Jae-Hyun’s eyes snapped open, his focus momentarily broken. The reward flickered in his vision, the upgraded box glowing faintly as if mocking his earlier efforts. He hesitated, curiosity gnawing at him, before finally opening the box. A soft glow enveloped him, and the system displayed its contents:
Reward Obtained: [Ring of Accelerated Growth] - Rank C
* Type: Accessory
* Effect: Increases experience gain from all sources by 20%. Enhances stamina regeneration during training by 30%.
He stared at the ring, its simple design belied by the power it promised. As he slid it onto his finger, a faint pulse of energy coursed through him, a sensation that felt almost alive. It wasn’t flashy, but it carried the promise of progress—a small but vital step toward becoming the weapon he needed to be.
Later that morning, as he prepared to continue his training, Elder Hyun arrived with Ahri in tow. The elder’s expression was grim, his cane tapping softly against the frost-covered ground as he approached.
"Jae-Hyun," the elder began, his voice heavy. "I’ve been examining the fragmented stone you brought back."
Jae-Hyun turned, his expression guarded but curious. "And?"
Elder Hyun held the fragment in his weathered hands, its surface faintly pulsing with a dim, ominous glow. "This didn’t simply appear in the wild. Whoever placed this here wasn’t careless," he murmured, his voice heavy with thought. "This stone has a purpose, one tied to forces beyond anything we’ve encountered. And I fear this is only the beginning."
He paused, his sharp gaze meeting Jae-Hyun’s. "There’s a reason behind this, Jae-Hyun. False rumors about your deaths spread like wildfire days ago. If someone believed you and Ahri were gone, they may have set this in motion without expecting you to return."
The weight of the elder’s words settled over Jae-Hyun like a shroud. "So someone wanted this village defenseless," he muttered, more to himself than the others. "Someone wanted chaos."
Jae-Hyun’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the fragment. "So someone wanted to attract monsters here," he said, more to himself than the others. "But why?."
Elder Hyun nodded slowly. "Be careful, Jae-Hyun. Whatever forces are at play here, they are beyond the comprehension of most."
Jae-Hyun said nothing, his thoughts churning as the elder and Ahri departed. His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. Whoever was behind this, they were powerful. And he wasn’t ready to face them. Not yet.
Later that afternoon, Jae-Hyun ventured into the nearby forest to grind experience and test his abilities. Summoning the system interface, he navigated to the summoning menu. The goblins he had relied on previously were listed as usual, their summoning cost minimal. But his eyes lingered on a new addition: Dire Claw.
Summon: Dire Claw. It costs 3 times the amount that it would take to summon a simple goblin.
He hesitated for a moment before confirming the summon. Shadows coalesced in the clearing before him, forming the hulking figure of the Dire Claw. Its sharp claws glinted in the sunlight, and its glowing eyes fixed on Jae-Hyun with a feral intensity.
"Stronger," Jae-Hyun muttered, observing the beast’s imposing form. It wasn’t just bigger than the goblins—it was faster, deadlier. But the cost reflected its power.
He scrolled further down the summoning menu, his gaze falling on another name: Chitterfang Queen. His heart skipped a beat, the memory of his battle with the monstrous queen flashing in his mind.
Summon: Chitterfang Queen
* Requirements: Level 35
Jae-Hyun grimaced. "Level 35," he muttered. "Figures." The battle against her had pushed him to the brink, and he knew now he wouldn’t have stood a chance without going berserk.
With the Dire Claw at his side, Jae-Hyun delved deeper into the forest, his blade flashing as he cut through lesser beasts. Each kill brought a flurry of experience notifications, their steady rhythm building the faint thrill of progress. The Dire Claw proved invaluable, its raw power overwhelming enemies that would have taken Jae-Hyun much longer to defeat alone. Fighting alongside the Dire Claw felt different—it wasn’t just a tool; it was a devastating ally, tearing through enemies with brute strength while Jae-Hyun focused on precision strikes. Combined with the ring’s enhanced experience gain, he noticed his levels climbing at a startling pace.
The system chimed softly:
Level Up: 15! Level Up: 16!
Jae-Hyun paused, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "So this is the difference," he murmured, his gaze flicking to the Dire Claw. "Stronger summons, faster experience... I’m moving faster than ever." The thought fueled his determination, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine the possibilities. How far could he push this? How much stronger could he become with the right strategy?
But the smirk faded as his thoughts darkened. He wasn’t just chasing strength for the sake of it. Every moment he grew stronger, he closed the gap between himself and his enemies. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as his father’s mocking voice echoed in his mind: "You’ll never be more than a disappointment." The memory of Tae-Jun’s laughter, sharp and cruel, was a dagger twisting in his gut. "You’re weak, Jae-Hyun. Pathetic. Just stay out of our way."
Each word replayed like a curse, a reminder of their betrayal. His chest tightened, the weight of those moments threatening to crush him. But above the cacophony of their derision, one image burned brighter: his sister. Her wide, frightened eyes, the way her small hands had clung to his, pleading for him to protect her. He had failed her once. He wouldn’t fail her again.
"Every second I waste, they grow stronger," he murmured, his voice bitter. "I need to grow stronger. Faster. I don’t have time to waste.”
"I don’t have time to waste," he growled, his resolve hardening. "I’ll crush them. All of them. But first, I need this."
Promises and Departures
Four days passed in relentless training and grinding. Each morning, Jae-Hyun pushed his body and mind to their limits, methodically chipping away at his weaknesses. The Dire Claw’s raw strength and the Ring of Accelerated Growth accelerated his progress, but even with these tools, the experience gain slowed noticeably by the end of the fourth day.
The system interface chimed softly as Jae-Hyun sat beneath a tree, sweat dripping from his brow and breath coming in steady bursts. His progress displayed before him:
Status Update:
* Name: Jae-Hyun
* Level: 20
* Health: 350
* Stamina: 140
* Mana: 110
* Strength: 30
* Agility: 32
* Intelligence: 28
* Resilience: 35
* Perception: 30
* Eclipse Domain: 10%
Skills:
* Predator’s Insight (Rank D): Enhanced to highlight critical weak points more vividly.
* Reaper’s Claim (Rank D): Efficiency increased; now harvests energy in a bigger radius.
* Reaper’s Summon (Rank C): Summon cap increased; mana cost adjusted for stronger summons.
* Pierce the Veil (Rank D): Refined strike targeting; reduces stamina usage during critical hits.
Accessories Obtained:
1. Amulet of Endurance (Rank D): Stamina recovery increased by 15%.
2. Shadow Cloak (Rank C): Grants a faint aura of concealment, enhancing stealth and minor evasion.
3. Bloodstone Ring (Rank B): Converts 5% of damage dealt into health recovery, stacking with other effects.
Passive Skill Obtained:
1. Pasive: Predator’s Precision – Increases critical hit chance by 10% against targets with visible weak points
Jae-Hyun closed the interface, his jaw tightening. He’d hit a wall. The system’s growth had slowed, and the creatures in the surrounding forest no longer offered enough experience to sustain his climb. His path was clear: the city. It was the only place where he could find new opportunities, and answers.
That evening, Jae-Hyun stood in the center of the village, his blade sheathed and pack slung over his shoulder. The faint glow of lanterns illuminated the worried faces of Elder Hyun and Ahri as they stood before him.
"You’re leaving," Elder Hyun said, his tone more observation than question.
Jae-Hyun nodded. "There’s nothing left for me here. If I stay, I’ll stagnate. I need to grow stronger. Faster. The city is my next step."
Ahri’s expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. She glanced briefly back at the village, her fingers brushing the strap of her pack. "And you weren’t going to tell us?"
Jae-Hyun hesitated, his gaze shifting briefly to the ground. "It’s not about leaving you behind. This is something I have to do."
"And you think we don’t understand that?" she snapped, her voice trembling. "You just... planned to walk away without a word?"
Elder Hyun raised a hand, his sharp gaze softening slightly. "Ahri, let him speak."
Jae-Hyun took a breath, his tone even but firm. "I’m grateful for what this village gave me. But this isn’t where my fight is. My fight is out there—against the people who took everything from me."
Ahri’s shoulders slumped, but she said nothing more. Her gaze lingered on Jae-Hyun, a mix of frustration and sadness flickering in her eyes. Elder Hyun stepped forward, placing a hand on Jae-Hyun’s shoulder. "The city is dangerous, boy. Be careful. Whoever placed that fragment—whoever spread those rumors—they’re watching. And it’s likely no coincidence those rumors began when you were thought to be dead."
Jae-Hyun’s eyes narrowed. "Because of those rumours."
"Exactly," Elder Hyun replied.
As Jae-Hyun approached the village gates, he heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind him. He turned, startled to see Ahri walking toward him, a small pack slung over her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sharper than intended.
"I’m coming with you," she said simply.
"Ahri—"
"The village doesn’t need me right now," she interrupted, her tone firm. "If they do, they know how to find me."
Jae-Hyun’s brow furrowed. "You don’t have to do this."
"I know," she said, stepping past him. "But I want to. You saved my life. The least I can do is help you with yours."
Her words were practical, but there was something unspoken in her eyes—something she wasn’t ready to admit, even to herself. Jae-Hyun didn’t press further. He nodded, turning back toward the path ahead.
The air was still as they left the village behind, the faint glow of its lights disappearing into the distance. The trees closed in around them, their gnarled branches casting twisted shadows under the faint moonlight. Jae-Hyun’s unease grew with each step, a subtle tension prickling at the edges of his senses. He glanced over his shoulder more than once, half-expecting shadows to follow. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig made his hand twitch toward the hilt of his sword, but the forest remained silent.
"Something wrong?" Ahri asked, her tone quieter now.
"No," Jae-Hyun replied, though his hand lingered near the hilt of his sword. "Let’s keep moving."
As they stopped to rest for the night, Jae-Hyun sat silently, his back against a tree, the rough bark digging into his armor. The night stretched endlessly before him, the cold air biting at his skin, but his thoughts burned hotter than any flame. His sister’s face loomed in his mind, her wide eyes brimming with fear and desperation. The memory twisted his gut, forcing him to confront the weight of his failures.
"You’re weak, Jae-Hyun," his brother’s voice sneered in his head, the words laced with scorn. "Pathetic. Always have been, always will be."
Jae-Hyun’s jaw tightened, his nails biting into his palms as his father’s cold disdain followed. "You’re no son of mine. You’ll never amount to anything." Their words carved into him like a blade, each syllable driving him further into the abyss of his anger.
But it was her voice, small and trembling, that broke through the darkness. "Jae-Hyun... help me." The memory of her tears, the helplessness in her plea, ignited something deeper within him—a fury, a resolve.
He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the chill night air. "I’ll save you," he said aloud, his voice steady but cold. "No matter what it takes."
The promise wasn’t just a declaration. It was a vow etched into the very core of his being, a flame that would never extinguish.
He clenched his fists, his breath steadying as he whispered into the darkness, "I’ll save you. No matter what it takes."
The promise hung in the air, unyielding as the night itself.