Arthanis felt his pulse quicken as he glided through the dense western forest, his every sense heightened, attuned to even the faintest hint of movement. The adrenaline surged through his veins, sharpening his focus. The forest was no place for the faint of heart, a dark and unforgiving wilderness teeming with vile creatures lurking in the shadows. But rather than dread, Arthanis felt exhilaration. He thrived on the hunt, the artistry of the pursuit, and the satisfaction of delivering the final, lethal blow.
The moon hung high in the sky, casting a faint silver glow over the forest, but Arthanis didn’t need its light to see. His eyes, accustomed to the darkness, picked up every shift in the trees, every jagged rock, and the gleam of his own blade as it rested in his hand. His cloak and armor blended seamlessly with the night, making him one with the shadows. His target: the kobolds.
Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a rustling nearby. Arthanis tensed, his keen instincts narrowing in on the source of the disturbance. His heart pounded as he spotted two kobolds emerging from the bushes. Their scaly hides gleamed in the moonlight, and their reptilian faces twisted with malice. Kobolds—cunning and cruel, often raiding villages for livestock and valuables.
Arthanis moved closer, his steps silent as the grave, blending into the darkness like a phantom. The two kobolds, oblivious to his presence, walked along the dirt path, engaged in conversation, their voices low and raspy.
[Translating the language…]
"Did you see how our king reached the eighth stage of awakening?" The brown-scaled kobold's voice was filled with awe.
"I did," replied the black-scaled one, his tone more cautious. "The king devoured every last essence stone he could get his claws on—except for the one from the god's emissary."
"The special one?" The brown kobold shivered. "You mean that strange, broken essence stone? The one that was pitch black?"
"Yes. It gave me chills. It was the first time our god sent an emissary to gift us anything. Something like that... it's bound to be dangerous."
"True enough. But do you think our king is stronger now? More powerful than the goblin king?"
"Watch your tongue! Our king has always been stronger than that disgusting green wretch. If anyone heard you, especially the guards, you'd be killed for such blasphemy. We should head back."
A solemn nod passed between them as they prepared to move, but the brown-scaled kobold’s expression twisted in sudden agony. His hands shot to his throat as he collapsed to the ground, blood pouring from his neck. He didn’t even have time to scream.
The black-scaled kobold’s eyes widened in horror. He whirled around, sensing something behind him, only to find his companion already dead. Panic gripped him as he heard a low, ominous sound from above. He looked up, and his gaze locked with a pair of fiery red eyes, burning through the darkness. Before he could react, a shadowy figure dropped from the trees, landing on his chest with brutal force.
Arthanis drove his blade through the kobold’s heart, silencing him with one swift strike.
He rose from the lifeless body, wiping the blood from his blade as he scanned the area for more enemies. The forest had returned to its eerie silence. Satisfied that there were no more immediate threats, Arthanis crouched by the bodies of the kobolds and began rifling through their belongings, but he found nothing of value.
“Trash,” he muttered, his voice low and cold. “Well then… time to feed.” He placed his hand on the first corpse and activated his skill.
A stream of crimson energy flowed from the kobold’s body, drawn to his hand like a magnet. The corpse shriveled and turned gray, the essence of its life draining away as Arthanis absorbed it. The process was swift, almost natural to him now. He repeated the same with the second kobold, feeling the surge of energy bolster him.
[You have consumed the blood of two unawakened kobolds. Your life countdown has increased by +2 hours 12 minutes 4 seconds. Congratulations, Master!]
“Two hours for two kobolds? Not bad,” Arthanis mused as he wiped his blade clean. “They’re unawakened, but worth more than a handful of goblins. Still, I’m not here just to hunt.”
He stood and glanced in the direction of the kobold camp. The conversation between the kobolds echoed in his mind. Their king… hoarding essence stones to ascend to higher stages of power? That was worth investigating. Arthanis’s thoughts churned as he considered the possibilities. “If he has an essence stone, I’ll find it.”
[Master, you should continue hunting the kobolds. Their blood can enhance your perk.]
Mire’s voice broke his thoughts. Arthanis smirked. “Enhance my perk, huh? You’re saying their blood can do more than just extend my life?”
[Correct. Their essence can refine your abilities. Check your status now, Master.]
Arthanis nodded. "Right. Let’s see where I stand now." He opened his status screen, watching intently as the information began to unfurl before him.
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[Loading master information…]
[Updating information…]
[Update completed!]
He focused on the glowing sphere that displayed the results:
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[Character]
─ Innate Abilities:
「Extraordinary Smell, Sight, And Hearing」Level 1 (31.81%)
「Feed」Level 1 (21.28%)
「Blood Thirsty」Level 1 (8.12%)
─ Genetic:
+「Bloodline Awakening」Level 1 (12%),「Daywalker」Level 1 (4.79%),「Nightcrawler」Level 1 (1.12%)
-「Blood Dependency」Level 1 (1.12%),「Sunlight Sensitivity」Level 1 (3.61%),「Sacred Ground Weakness」Level 1 (0%)
─ Talent:
「Extreme Abnormal Adaptability, Growth, and Mastery of All (Rank: Unique)」
「??? (Rank: ???)」
─ Alignment:
─ Character Summary: Arthanis Lanis, a peculiar human from another dimension, found himself in the body of a random Dhampir in a magical realm. Clueless about his purpose or the challenges ahead, his immediate goal was survival, with a looming confrontation against the entity named Sinahtra—the one responsible for his bizarre transmigration.
─ Status Condition: Life until 22:01:17 downtime.
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“Not bad,” Arthanis muttered, his eyes lingering on the countdown. The kobolds had added precious time to his life, more than the goblins ever could. “Looks like Mire was right—kobolds are better prey.”
Just as he prepared to continue deeper into the forest, he smirked, recalling the goblin axes he had taken as spoils from earlier. He knelt beside the two kobold corpses, swiftly hacking off their limbs and scattering them like a macabre display. Then, with deliberate force, he snapped one of the goblin axes in half and tossed it among the mutilated bodies.
“This ought to stir things up between the kobolds and the goblins,” Arthanis muttered darkly. “Let them tear each other apart while I benefit from the chaos.”
Satisfied with his work, he continued following the trail left by the two kobolds, deeper into the western forest. The terrain grew rougher, the air thicker with tension, and soon he spotted a faint flicker of firelight up ahead. There, partially hidden by the thick underbrush, was a large hole in the ground—the entrance to a kobold underground camp.
Perched on a high tree branch, Arthanis peered down into the dimly lit cavern, his enhanced sight allowing him to see the camp’s activity. The kobolds below moved about with a strange sense of order—some sparring, others working, feasting, or resting in their crude dwellings. They had a system, a hierarchy that echoed fragments of civilization, despite their savage nature.
“They’re not so different from humans after all,” Arthanis mused, watching them from above. His mind briefly wandered to his former life—Earth, a world where kobolds existed only in fantasy. Now, he saw them in their true form, living, breathing creatures. In that moment, he wondered why he had instinctively seen them as enemies.
Perhaps it was the influence of stories he grew up with, where heroes triumphed over monsters. But this isn't a story. It's survival. He shook off the fleeting doubt.
He reminded himself: In this world, they’re just obstacles.
He dropped silently from the tree, landing like a shadow among the oblivious kobolds. His eyes cold, his body tense, he moved through the camp like a predator on the hunt.
The first to fall were two kobolds sparring with one another, their stamina drained from the intense duel. They didn’t even notice Arthanis until it was too late. He struck swiftly—one stab to the throat, another to the gut. They crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
[You have consumed the blood of two unawakened kobolds. Your life countdown has increased by +2 hours 31 minutes 1 second. Congratulations, Master!]
Mire’s voice echoed in his mind, but Arthanis barely acknowledged it. He was focused, methodical.
Next, a drunken kobold stumbled nearby, swaying aimlessly. It was an easy kill. Arthanis slashed its throat with a clean flick of his dagger, watching as the creature crumpled to the ground without a sound.
[You have consumed the blood of one unawakened kobold. Your life countdown has increased by +1 hours 8 minutes 31 seconds. Congratulations, Master!]
His next target was a kobold sleeping soundly under a tree, its belly swollen from the feast it had indulged in. The creature’s face was peaceful, unaware of the death creeping toward it. For a brief moment, Arthanis hesitated. There was something about the tranquility on the kobold’s face, the satisfaction of a life lived without fear. But he brushed the thought aside. This was survival.
He drove his sword into the kobold’s chest, ending its slumber.
[You have consumed the blood of one unawakened kobold. Your life countdown has increased by +1 hours 52 minutes 43 seconds. Congratulations, Master!]
Arthanis moved from one kobold to the next, his blade swift and silent, draining their blood and life force with his skill 「Feed」. Each kill made him stronger, his life ticking upward with every drop of blood.
But then, he paused.
Hiding behind a bush, trembling with fear, was a small kobold—a child. Its thin, scaly frame quivered, and it clutched a crude spear in its tiny hands. The child had witnessed the massacre, had seen its kin fall one by one, but it hadn’t fled. Too terrified to move, too terrified to scream.
Arthanis felt a strange emotion rise within him—a flicker of pity. Why did I stop? This kobold child is no different from the others. It’s just another monster.
He took a deep breath, pushing aside the hesitation. Survival. That’s what this is about. He reminded himself of the words Jooloo, the goblin essence user, had whispered to Ofero before his death: War is inevitable.
If war is coming, I can’t afford to hesitate. I must eliminate them before they become stronger.
The child, in a desperate and clumsy attempt to fight back, charged at him with its spear, swinging wildly. Arthanis dodged effortlessly, and with a swift motion, slashed his sword across the child’s neck. It collapsed without a sound.
[You have consumed the blood of a young unawakened kobold. Your life countdown has increased by +52 minutes 3 seconds. Congratulations, Master!]
Arthanis wiped his blade, his expression unreadable. They’re just monsters. And so am I.
He surveyed the camp, the once lively kobold underground camp now a graveyard of corpses. In less than five minutes, he had wiped out every last one.
Satisfied, he turned to leave. But then, a faint noise reached his ears. It was quiet, barely audible over the rustling of the wind.
[Master.] Mire’s voice whispered in his mind, laced with urgency.
“I know,” Arthanis replied, his voice low, his senses heightened.
A raspy voice cut through the darkness behind him. “Human…” it hissed, filled with venom. “Why did you kill this innocent child?”
Arthanis slowly turned, his eyes narrowing as a shadowy figure knelt beside the headless kobold child. The aura emanating from the figure was palpable, suffocating. Arthanis felt it—the overwhelming strength of a true predator.
I missed one. The strongest one.