The countdown timer shone in his vision.
Ten seconds. It wasn't a timer. It was an executioner's clock.
Edward didn't have time to think. No time to rage. No time to panic.
He only knew one thing.
He took a breath. And then, he was moving.
A powerful suction erupted from the portal. It yanked him off his feet.
The world dissolved. It felt like being ground between two gears. A scream was torn from his lungs. It made no sound.
He was just a piece of debris, tumbling through an impossible space.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it was over.
He was spat out onto a hard surface. He landed in a heap. He gasped for air. His lungs burned.
The ground wasn't cobblestone. It was jagged, black rock, sharp enough to cut.
Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself to his feet.
He was in a vast, desolate landscape. Jagged spires of stone. A sickly grey sky.
No sun. No moon. No stars.
A low, mournful wind snaked through the stone canyons. The Howling Abyss. The name was accurate.
His system screen was still active. A new timer had replaced the quest notification.
`[Punishment Duration: 02:59:59]`
Three hours.
He had to survive here for three hours. Unarmed. Alone.
A cold dread settled into his bones.
Right, he thought. Survive. Simple instructions. Step one: don't die.
A howl, much closer this time, cut through the wind. A sharp, predatory sound.
He scrambled for cover. He peeked around the edge. And saw them.
Patches of shadow. Then they took form.
Hounds, but made of nightmare.
Their bodies were roiling black smoke. Their claws and teeth were solid points of polished bone. Their eyes glowed with a feral, crimson light.
Four of them. They were hunting.
And he was the only prey.
His heart hammered against his ribs. He had no weapon. His stats were pathetic.
A direct fight was suicide. Running was his only option.
He waited. Then he broke from cover, running as quietly as he could. He sprinted through the labyrinth of black rock.
But the hounds were faster.
He heard their paws behind him. The sound grew closer. A wave of hot, foul breath washed over his ankle. Searing pain. Claws raked his calf.
He cried out, stumbling. He crashed hard against a rock face. He scrambled to his feet.
The pack had him cornered.
This was it.
He had survived a spear through the heart, only to be torn apart by shadow dogs in some hell-dimension. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
He backed away, his hands scrabbling against the rock wall. His fingers brushed against something heavy. A rock.
A weapon.
And then… something inside him snapped.
The fear was still there. But something else rose to meet it.
A raw, defiant anger.
He wasn't going to die here. Not like this. Not as prey.
He looked at the wraith-hounds. The system wanted him to survive. Survival wasn't about running. It was about fighting. It was about killing.
He had to stop being Edward Ross, the humiliated student.
He had to become what the system had made him.
A predator.
His expression hardened. The panic in his eyes vanished. Replaced by a cold focus. He gripped the rock in his hand.
He watched the hounds. Not as a victim. But as a hunter.
The largest one, the alpha, was confident. Too confident. But there was one, slightly smaller, that hung back.
The weak link.
He took a deep breath. And charged.
He launched himself upwards onto a small ledge. The alpha lunged. Its jaws snapped on empty air.
From his vantage point, he looked down at the pack. They snarled and leapt, but the ledge was just high enough. He waited.
The alpha, enraged, made a high leap, its claws scraping inches from his feet.
While the pack was distracted, Edward pushed off the ledge. He aimed for the lone hound.
He crashed down on top of it. A whirlwind of shadow and claws. He ignored the pain as teeth sank into his shoulder. He raised the rock high… and brought it down.
A sickening, wet crunch. The hound went limp.
But it wasn't dead. Its smoky form flickered. It began to dissolve.
The hunger returned. A raging inferno. He didn't hesitate.
He plunged his hand onto the hound's chest. The icy torrent of soul-energy flooded into him. The hound dissolved completely. Turned to dust.
A wave of warmth washed through him. His wounds healed. The gash on his calf knitted shut. The exhaustion vanished.
`[Soul Points Acquired: 15]`
`[You have reached Level 2!]`
`[All Stats +1]`
`[New Skill Unlocked: Soul Rend]`
The other three hounds stared. Confused. One of their own had not just been killed. It had been… unmade.
Edward got to his feet. He looked at the hounds. No fear in his eyes. Only a cold, predatory light.
He clutched the bloody rock in his hand. The timer on his screen read `02:55:48`.
"Alright," he whispered, a grim smile on his lips. "Who's next?"
The remaining time was a blur of brutal combat. He didn't survive by hiding. He survived by hunting. Each kill fed the hunger. Each devoured soul made him stronger.
When the timer finally hit zero, a portal ripped open. He was yanked upwards.
He crashed back into the alley in Sunstone City. He was alive. He was changed.
He stood up. He felt… different. Stronger. Colder.
The sound of armored footsteps echoed from the mouth of the alley. A squad of academy guards marched into view. Their captain took in the scene: the Rankless boy, standing alone, surrounded by piles of black dust.
The captain scoffed. "Look at this trash, frozen in fear long after the fight is over. Useless."
Edward didn't reply. He didn't even flinch.
He just looked at the guard, his head tilted slightly. His new, cold eyes weren't seeing a captain. They were assessing a target.
The captain's sneer faltered. He took an involuntary step back, a sudden chill running down his spine.
For a terrifying second, under the gaze of this Rankless boy, he felt like prey.