"Violet? I've only seen white, blue, and green mobs so far… This one's different."
He checked his inventory. His potions were down to two. His daggers were chipped. He hadn't leveled up yet.
"I should go back…"
But something inside him said otherwise. A voice that echoed all the games he'd played since he was a kid. That voice—the one that whispered Just try.
He tightened his grip. "Let's dance."
Karkaskhan shrieked and charged.
Noir rolled sideways as her legs stabbed at the floor where he'd been standing. He slashed at her side, but his blade bounced off the thick shell. She spun, using her back legs to kick up dust and force him back.
He circled, searching for weak spots. Her underside looked softer, but every time he tried to slip beneath her, she lashed out with inhuman speed.
Suddenly, she spat webbing. It splattered across the floor—sticky and thick. Noir's foot caught, and his movement slowed.
"Damn it!"
Karkaskhan lunged. He ducked, feeling a leg scrape his shoulder. Pain flared.
HP: 36%
He coughed and rolled out of range.
Then she leapt into the air.
"Shit—!"
She landed, the ground quaking. Noir staggered back, panting.
[System Alert]
Unlock Condition Met: Hidden Skill Learned!
Skill: Critical Dash Slash
+50 movement speed for 4 seconds
Automatically dashes to the nearest enemy and slashes 6 times
Each strike has a 30% chance to critically hit
Cooldown: 30 seconds
He blinked. "Now we're talking."
He activated it.
His body surged forward in a burst of speed. His vision blurred as he slashed six times—across her legs, her neck, her exposed abdomen. Critical hits landed twice. She screeched, blood splattering the floor.
Her HP dropped rapidly—but not enough.
He landed hard, panting, out of stamina.
Karkaskhan hissed and reared back. Her human-like face cracked wide open, revealing rows of fangs.
She struck.
Noir raised his blades to block—but she crashed into him like a wall. He was thrown across the room. He hit the stone hard, his HP dropping to zero.
[System Message: You Have Died]
EXP Lost: -35%
Items Broken: Twin Daggers (Fractured), Light Vest (Torn)
Respawning at: Seldom
When Noir opened his eyes again, he was back in the small inn room in Seldom. The ceiling fan spun lazily above him.
He didn't move for a moment.
"So that's what dying feels like…"
He sat up, rubbing his shoulder even though the pain was gone. What stuck with him wasn't the loss of gear. It was the thrill.
You've unlocked the skill: Critical Dash Slash.
He smirked. "You win this round, Karkaskhan."
After gathering himself, Noir stood and headed straight to the local blacksmith. The bell above the shop door rang as he entered.
"Lost your first fight, huh?" the blacksmith grinned as he eyed Noir's scuffed outfit.
"Something like that," Noir replied, pulling out a pouch of coins he'd earned from earlier hunts.
He purchased a beginner dagger—basic but solid—and a dark, hooded cloak for stealth and protection.
"You're all set, rookie," the blacksmith said. "Try not to die this time."
With new gear in hand, Noir returned to the forest. He spent hours grinding through low-level mobs. He sliced through Wolf Fangs, dodged and countered packs of Goblins, and even took on a ridiculous gang of four-foot chickens that attacked with wild flapping and furious pecks.
Eventually, he got an idea.
He started luring them.
He rounded up a pack—two goblins, one chicken, and a wolf—and led them toward a small ridge. Once they were grouped tight, he stood still and let them close in.
"Alright… let's see what this skill can really do."
[Skill Activated: Critical Dash Slash]
The world snapped into slow motion for a second.
Then Noir vanished.
He blitzed through the mob with blinding speed. One goblin's head flew off, the chicken was slashed clean in two mid-squawk, the wolf was sliced across the ribs in rapid succession. Each strike landed perfectly. Two of them sparked with a golden shimmer—critical hits.
All four enemies dropped at once.
[System Alert: Enemies Defeated. +42 EXP. +Minor Loot Acquired.]
Noir exhaled slowly.
"Now that's more like it."
And still, hidden among the trees, Korb177 continued to watch.
Noir kept going.
His stamina was waning, but his will to fight hadn't dipped even a bit. He hunted without pause—testing timing, spacing, and combinations. Every swing, every step, had a purpose.
He fought smart.
Quick stab—dodge—spin to the back—critical strike.
Roll—kick off a tree—double slash—retreat.
He repeated these movements over and over on different mobs, slowly shaping his own rhythm. The Wolf Fangs got easier. The Goblins no longer overwhelmed him. Even the giant chickens, ridiculous as they were, didn't surprise him anymore.
His hands were cut and scraped. His daggers were bloodied.
"One more round…" he muttered to himself, eyes sharp.
As he moved deeper into the forest, the trees began to twist. The air grew heavy. The lighting dimmed unnaturally. He squinted and pulled his hood tighter.
Then he saw them.
Figures dragging their feet. Bodies rotting and warped, groaning lowly. The smell of decay thickened the air.
Their names hovered above them in blue text:
Cursed Human – Lv1
Zombies.
There were five of them at first. Slow, but their numbers made them dangerous.
"Never seen these before," he muttered, lowering into a stance.
He dashed forward, going for the nearest one. His dagger slid across its chest—but barely sank in. Thick, soggy flesh clung tight to their bones.
"Tough hide…"
The Cursed Human moaned and reached for him. Noir ducked and slashed across its kneecaps. The zombie buckled, but didn't stop.
Another lunged from behind. He barely turned in time—its fingers raked his shoulder.
HP: 78%
"Damn!" he hissed, staggering back.
He parried, striking the second zombie's elbow, snapping the joint. But it kept coming.
Another swiped. Then another.
He was surrounded.
"Okay… you wanna play rough?"
He vaulted backward, breathing hard. Blood ran down his cheek. His cloak was torn.
He tossed a rock to distract one of them and took a second to regroup.
"They're slow. But strong. If I don't take them out clean, they just keep coming."
He activated Critical Dash Slash.
He vanished, dashing between three zombies. Each slash was surgical—aimed at the necks, spines, legs. Critical hits landed on two of them, and they dropped with wet thuds.
The other three kept coming.
He ducked under a grab, stabbed into the chest cavity of one, twisted the blade, and kicked it off.
"Still not enough…"
They cornered him against a dead tree. One zombie lunged open-mouthed. Noir grabbed its head and slammed it into the bark.
Its skull cracked—but it didn't die.
So he stabbed it through the eye. That worked.
Another clawed at him, catching his ribs. He groaned but rolled out, stabbing upward under its chin as he rose.
Blood sprayed.
He was panting now. Wounded, but alive.
And then he noticed: the last zombie had backed off. It was limping, head tilted.
Noir approached slowly.
"You're the smart one, huh?"
He stabbed it in the throat before it could react.
Silence.
The fight was over.
[System Alert: Enemies Defeated. +62 EXP. Loot Acquired: Cursed Bone, Rotten Cloth, 4 Silver Coins.]
Noir knelt for a second, catching his breath.
"Note to self—don't let them group up again."
He wiped the blood off his blades and stared down the path deeper into the cursed zone.
"What the hell else is out here?"
And not far off, behind a decaying tree trunk, Korb177 watched.
Still silent. Still observing.