The battlefield lay in silence. The once-roaring winds had settled, leaving behind only the sound of ragged breathing—Zeyren's breathing.
He stood at the center, barely holding himself together. His legs felt like they could give out at any second, and his arms hung limply at his sides, burning with exhaustion. His once-glowing left arm, Mimix, had reverted to its natural, gelatinous slime form, barely clinging to his shoulder. A clear sign that he had drained himself completely.
A few feet away, Fenrir stood with his arms crossed, his piercing red eyes filled with a mix of amusement and approval.
Fenrir (smirking): "Hah. You pushed yourself further than I expected. Not bad, brat."
Zeyren (grinning weakly): "If we keep going... I might actually win."
Nyx (bursting into laughter): "Oh, that's rich! Did you hear that, Rock Head? The brat actually thinks he had a chance!"
Zeyren (muttering): "Damn feather-brain… laughing at my suffering."
Fenrir chuckled and tossed a small pouch toward him.
Zeyren barely managed to catch it, his fingers fumbling from exhaustion. The moment it landed in his hand, a dense, raw energy radiated from within. His breath hitched.
Zeyren (staring at the pouch): "Monster cores... and not just any cores."
Fenrir smirked.
Fenrir: "Absorb them. If you can handle all of them… then we'll talk about your next step."
Zeyren opened the pouch, his eyes widening at the contents—one Level 65 Legendary and three Level 50 Superior cores. Then, without warning, Fenrir tossed another.
Zeyren caught it instinctively, but the sheer energy from it made his arm tremble.
Fenrir: "That one's a Level 75 Legendary. Since you managed a Level 55 before, you should be able to handle it."
Zeyren's lips curled into a smirk despite his fatigue.
Zeyren: "You're making this too easy for me."
Fenrir scoffed, already turning away.
Fenrir: "Tch. Don't get cocky. You're still a long way from standing at the top. Get some rest. Training resumes tomorrow."
Zeyren exhaled slowly, his exhaustion creeping back in. But as he clutched the pouch tighter, only one thought filled his mind.
---
As Zeyren and Nyx left the training ground, a new presence entered the scene.
A young beast warrior, standing tall and proud, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement. He moved with the grace of a seasoned hunter, each step carrying an air of confidence. His dark fur shimmered under the fading sunlight, and the air around him carried the scent of battle and experience. Unlike the towering Fenrir, he had a lean yet powerful build—like a predator ready to strike at any moment.
His gaze locked onto Zeyren's retreating figure, his sharp ears twitching in curiosity.
Young Beast Warrior: "Uncle Fenrir… is that the human you brought back?"
Fenrir, standing with his arms crossed, gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable.
Fenrir: "Yeah. But don't get too excited. He's still weak."
A smirk crept across the young beast's lips. His sharp claws flexed slightly, his tail flicking behind him.
Young Beast Warrior: "Weak, huh? Can I fight him?"
Fenrir raised an eyebrow at the question, studying his nephew's eager expression.
Fenrir: "You'd destroy him."
The young warrior chuckled, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up.
Young Beast Warrior (grinning): "I'll hold back. Just a little spar."
Fenrir sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew how reckless his nephew could be, but at the same time, it would be a good test for Zeyren.
Fenrir: "Fine. You can fight him tomorrow. But don't break him."
Before the young warrior could respond, another voice chimed in from the sidelines. A smaller beast—no older than thirteen—trotted toward Fenrir, his tail wagging in excitement. His ears perked up, and his eyes sparkled with determination.
Little Beast: "Uncle Fenrir! Can I fight him too?"
Fenrir let out a chuckle, watching as the little beast puffed up his chest in an attempt to look more intimidating.
Little Beast: "I'm strong! I've been training! Let me fight him too!"
The young beast warrior turned to his younger sibling and smirked, placing a clawed hand on his head and ruffling his fur.
Young Beast Warrior: "You? Fight a human? You'd barely last a minute."
The little beast swatted his brother's hand away, baring his small fangs.
Little Beast: "I would too last! I've been practicing my strikes every day!"
Fenrir sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. These two were always brimming with energy.
Fenrir: "Fine. You can train with Zeyren after he's done fighting him." (He pointed a clawed finger at the young warrior near him.) "But don't come crying to me if you get tossed around."
The little beast's face lit up with excitement. He let out a happy growl before dashing off, already imagining his victory.
The young beast warrior watched him go, then turned back to Fenrir, his smirk never fading.
Young Beast Warrior: "This should be fun. I wonder if the human can even keep up."
Fenrir gave him a knowing look, his lips curling into a slight grin.
Fenrir: "Don't underestimate him. He may surprise you."
The young warrior chuckled but said nothing more. Tomorrow was going to be interesting.
---
NYX'S SECRET GIFT
As they reached their quarters, Nyx suddenly halted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Without a word, he reached into his pouch, the faint jingle of energy cores rattling softly.
Zeyren furrowed his brows. "What are you—"
Nyx grinned and cut him off. "You didn't hear this from me, but if Rock Head gave you extra cores, he's testing you. Let's push it a bit further."
Zeyren blinked. "Push—?"
Before he could finish, Nyx flicked his wrist, and something small and round flew toward him. On instinct, Zeyren caught it, the raw power thrumming against his palm. His eyes widened as he looked down.
More cores.
Not just any cores.
One Legendary (Level 55) and five Superior (Level 45).
Zeyren's jaw practically unhinged. "Wha— I… I'M RICH! My stats are gonna SKYROCKET!"
Nyx leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That is… if you survive absorbing all of them." He arched a brow. "If you can pull it off by morning, maybe you won't die tomorrow."
Zeyren's excitement froze midair. His grip on the cores tightened. "Wait. Die?"
Nyx just winked. "Sleep tight," he said, strolling off as if he hadn't just tossed a potential death sentence in Zeyren's lap.
Zeyren stared at the glowing orbs in his hands. The sheer energy pulsed violently, humming with raw potential. He swallowed.
Absorbing this much power at once… Could he handle it?
A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Heh… what's the worst that could happen? I have a system, after all."
Then, slowly, he lifted his head—his gaze shifting toward the sky.
"You guys wouldn't let anything bad happen to me, right?" he muttered, his grin twitching.
Silence.
His eye twitched. "…Right?"
The scene faded to black.
---
The Power Boost – SP Distribution
As he entered his room, Zeyren poured out the monster cores onto his bed, their glowing energy making the air thick with power. The pulsating hues of the cores bathed the room in an eerie light, a testament to the sheer strength they held.
Zeyren (Mc): "System, exchange these cores for SP."
System:
SP Gained from:
+1x Legendary (Level 65) → 975 SP
+3x Superior (Level 50) → 1,200 SP
+1x Legendary (Level 75) → 1,125 SP
+1x Legendary (Level 55) → 825 SP
+5x Superior (Level 45) → 1,800 SP
Total SP Gained: 6,120 SP
Zeyren's eyes gleamed as he watched the numbers tally up.
Zeyren (Mc): "Alright, I need to allocate this SP carefully for maximum efficiency."
He took a deep breath, contemplating his choices. Every point mattered, and a wrong allocation could mean the difference between victory and defeat. His mind worked quickly, prioritizing the most essential attributes.
Zeyren (Mc): "System, increase my Spiritual Power from level 10 to 15, Constitution from level 6 to 12, Mind from level 7 to 13, and lastly, level up Mimix from level 6 to 10."
System:
[1]Spiritual Power (Energy Reserves) → Level 10 to 15, Total SP Used = 1,300 SP
[2]Constitution (Defense & Endurance) → Level 6 to 12, Total SP Used = 1,140 SP
[3]Mind (Focus & Reflex) → Level 7 to 13, Total SP Used = 1,260 SP
[4]Mimix (Left Arm Power) → Level 6 to 10, Total SP Used = 2,325 SP
Total SP Used: 6,025 SP
Remaining SP: 95 SP
Zeyren exhaled, feeling the rush of power settle within him. His muscles tensed for a brief moment before relaxing, his body adjusting to the newfound strength. His senses sharpened, every sound and movement around him suddenly clearer than ever before.
Zeyren clenched his fists. A surge of energy coursed through his veins. His entire body felt different. Stronger. Faster. Sharper.
Zeyren (Mc): "Okay, save the remaining SP for emergencies."
His gaze shifted to his left arm.
Zeyren (Mc): "Now that Mimix is enhanced, my left arm should be even stronger than before."
He flexed his fingers, feeling the raw power at his fingertips. The upgrade was more than just numbers—he could feel it, deep within his bones.
Zeyren (grinning): "Tomorrow's gonna be interesting."
With a satisfied smirk, he stretched out on his bed. The fatigue from the day's battles and upgrades finally settled in, but unlike before, he felt invincible. Stronger than ever.
As he closed his eyes, his mind drifted to what awaited him next. Tomorrow would mark a new beginning.
---
Suddenly, the world around him shifted.
The sky was painted in a storm of swirling black clouds, lightning crackling like the heavens themselves were waging war. The battlefield stretched endlessly before him—scarred, broken, and littered with shattered weapons. The scent of ash and blood clung to the air.
Zeyren stood at the center of it all.
His body felt weightless, yet overflowing with power. Every fiber of his being thrummed with energy. His vision sharpened beyond human limits—he could see the subtle shifts in the air, hear the distant echoes of his enemies' heartbeats.
He could feel everything.
Then—
A flicker of movement.
A monstrous force lunged toward him.
A blur of speed, claws slashing through the air with lethal precision.
Fenrir.
His red eyes burned like embers, his colossal form moving like a beast that had torn through countless battlefields. His attack was instant, relentless—a strike that could tear through mountains.
But this time—
Zeyren dodged with ease.
Not just dodged—he anticipated it. As if the world had slowed to a crawl for him, he shifted his body just enough to let the claws pass inches from his chest.
Fenrir's eyes widened in shock.
Zeyren countered in a flash.
BANG!
A single devastating punch landed against Fenrir's ribs. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the battlefield, the ground beneath them fracturing.
Fenrir let out a grunt of pain, skidding backward, claws digging into the earth to stop himself. He stared at Zeyren, disbelief flashing across his face.
"You… what the hell was that?!" Fenrir growled, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth.
Zeyren smirked. "Surprised? I thought you said I was weak."
Fenrir's shock vanished, replaced with an eager grin. "Heh… not bad. But don't get cocky, brat!"
Before Zeyren could respond, a shadow loomed over him.
A dark figure descended from the stormy sky like a predator striking its prey.
Nyx.
His black wings stretched wide, a deadly glint in his golden eyes.
"You're fast, brat," Nyx sneered, "but let's see how you handle speed from above!"
He dived, talons glowing with razor-sharp energy.
Zeyren barely had a second to react.
Instinctively, he leaped back—but Nyx was too fast. The owl's attack grazed his shoulder, leaving behind a deep gash.
"Tch!" Zeyren clicked his tongue.
Nyx grinned. "Not so untouchable, huh?"
Zeyren flexed his fingers, feeling the rush of energy surging within him. "You talk too much."
Then he vanished.
Nyx's grin faltered.
"What—?"
Before he could react—
CRACK!
A single, precise kick slammed into Nyx's stomach, sending him hurtling toward the ground like a falling meteor.
The battlefield shook as he crashed, leaving a deep crater in his wake.
Zeyren landed smoothly, brushing off his injured shoulder. "That was for calling me 'brat'."
Nyx coughed, his feathers ruffled. "Damn… you really pack a punch."
But before Zeyren could celebrate, the temperature around him dropped.
A new presence filled the battlefield.
One even more suffocating than Fenrir or Nyx.
Kael Darven.
The legendary tamer stepped forward, his golden eyes glowing beneath the storm-filled sky. His expression was unreadable—calm, yet filled with an overwhelming pressure that made the very air tremble.
Zeyren swallowed. "...Great. Here comes the final boss."
Kael's voice was cold. "You're strong, but strength without control is meaningless."
With a single step, Kael vanished.
Zeyren's eyes widened. "What—?"
Then—
BOOM!
A fist connected with his stomach.
Zeyren gasped, his body bending from the impact. The shockwave sent him flying across the battlefield, smashing through boulders like they were paper.
Zeyren coughed, struggling to stand. "Shit... he's fast."
Kael appeared before him in an instant. "Get up."
Zeyren wiped the blood from his mouth and smirked. "Fine. But don't regret asking for it!"
Then, the real battle began.
A storm of fists, kicks, and counterattacks erupted.
Zeyren dodged, parried, and struck with inhuman speed, matching Kael's every move. Every impact sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, the very ground beneath them crumbling.
Kael's eyes narrowed as their fight intensified. "You're adapting fast."
Zeyren grinned. "I learn quick."
For the first time—Kael felt his own strength being pushed back.
Then—
A final, earth-shattering strike landed.
Zeyren's fist collided with Kael's chest, sending the legendary warrior skidding backward.
Silence.
The battlefield was empty except for the fallen warriors.
Fenrir, Nyx, Kael—all of them defeated.
Zeyren stood victorious.
His breath was steady. His power felt limitless.
He looked down at his trembling hands. "I… I won?"
A smirk crept across his face. "So this is what true power feels like."
---
||End of Chapter 7|
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