The forest was quiet again.
Ming leaned against a splintered trunk, breath ragged, the taste of iron clinging to his mouth. His side throbbed where the rogue spirit's claws had torn through him, blood soaking the fabric until it clung to his skin. The dirt beneath him was already dark with it.
He pressed a hand against the wound, gritting his teeth. The fight replayed in his mind the blur of claws, the weight of Soul Rend, the moment the spirit unraveled into nothing. He'd won, but the victory felt thin. Survival didn't mean safety.
"…Damn thing."
His voice was low, hoarse, swallowed by the silence of the forest.
The system's last message flickered across his vision.
[System synchronization: 40%]
[New ability unlocked: Soul Step]
He let the notification linger while he tore a strip of cloth from what was left of his shirt. His hands were slick with blood, the fabric refusing to hold at first. The smell of iron stung his nose, sharp and metallic. When he pressed the strip against his ribs, fire shot through him, his body jerking in protest. He hissed, nearly losing grip of the cloth as his vision blurred.
"Not yet," he muttered, jaw locked tight.
Each pull around his torso dragged the wound open before squeezing it shut again. By the third loop, his breath came in sharp bursts, sweat rolling down his face. The sting of raw flesh against rough fabric was unbearable, but he forced his hands steady, knuckles white, refusing to let them shake. His ribs screamed with every movement, but slowly the bleeding eased, the fabric turning dark and heavy with blood.
Not clean. Not perfect. But enough to keep him moving.
Ming sat back against the trunk and exhaled, letting his body ease into the ache. His whole frame felt hollow, drained from Soul Rend's pull. It hadn't just cut the rogue spirit it had eaten into him, scraping away his life force. His heartbeat still stumbled now and then, as if reminding him he'd borrowed too much.
The system didn't lie. Life force depletion.
His hand curled, nails digging into his palm. "So that's the price."
He closed his eyes briefly, listening to the forest breathe. For a moment, it almost felt alive again distant leaves rustling, the faint shift of unseen things moving. No monsters. Not yet.
The thought of another fight made his stomach knot. He wasn't ready. His body wasn't ready.
The system pulsed once more.
[Ability Details: Soul Step]
[Description: Allows the user to shift their position instantly by stepping between layers of reality. Range limited to short distances. Cooldown: 00:00:30.]
Ming's eyes opened. Slowly, he pushed himself upright. Every movement dragged pain along his ribs, but curiosity outweighed the ache.
"…A step, huh?"
He tested it. Focused. The system's explanation was simple, but the feeling wasn't. His body leaned forward, one foot raised and the world folded.
It wasn't speed. It was absence. For a breath, he wasn't in the clearing. He wasn't anywhere. Then
His boot struck earth again, three paces away.
The shift jolted through his bones, leaving him wide-eyed, heart hammering.
"…That… could work."
It hadn't hurt. No pull like Soul Rend. Just a flicker of disorientation, like missing a step on uneven ground. Manageable. Useful.
He tried again, this time aiming toward a fallen branch near the treeline. The moment he thought of it, his body carried him there, snapping into place with the same strange emptiness. Leaves scattered underfoot where he reappeared.
But the third time, something slipped. His focus wavered, and instead of landing upright, his body tilted, knees buckling as he reappeared half-turned. He stumbled, crashing into the branch with a curse. His vision spun, stomach lurching as though gravity itself had twisted mid-step.
He gritted his teeth, forcing his body still until the dizziness faded. "So… not foolproof."
Even so, the potential was undeniable.
A slow grin tugged at his lips despite the fatigue. "Finally… something that doesn't try to kill me."
He spent the next few minutes testing its limits. Ten steps. Twenty. Each time, the system's timer blinked thirty seconds, then ready again. The distance wasn't far, maybe ten meters at most, but in a fight, ten meters was everything.
A claw would miss. A strike could land. Survival could hinge on less.
Still, every use tugged at his stamina, not in chunks but in threads. His body wasn't built to handle endless strain, not yet. The cooldown forced him to pace himself, and he filed that detail away. Tools were only as sharp as the hand using them.
And then a thought struck him. Soul Sense.
His grin widened faintly. He pictured it the world slowing as his senses sharpened, every movement of his enemy laid bare. Combine that with Soul Step, and he wouldn't just dodge; he'd disappear before the attack landed, reappearing behind them, blade already descending.
He could see it clearly: a spirit lunging, claws wide Soul Sense guiding him through the angle, Soul Step carrying him past it in a flicker of absence, and Soul Rend finishing the strike.
The thought sent a thrill through him, a glimpse of what was possible. Alone, each ability was dangerous. Together, they could turn the fight before it began.
When the testing was done, he collapsed back onto a stump, sweat rolling down his temple. His ribs burned where the bandage pressed tight, but the blood had slowed. He leaned back, staring up through the canopy.
The sky above was strange neither day nor night, a constant twilight pressing down on the world. Shapes moved faintly across it, drifting like shadows behind glass. He didn't know if they were real or just another trick of this place.
Didn't matter.
The memory of the rogue spirit's shriek lingered in his ears. The way it had fought. The way it had healed. He was seconds from being carved apart.
If not for Soul Rend, he would be.
His hand flexed unconsciously, remembering the weight of that black blade. Power with a price. A weapon that wanted something from him.
He exhaled, long and steady. "Not yet. Not again."
Soul Rend would stay buried until he had no other choice. Until his body could pay its price without collapsing.
For now, Soul Step was enough.
Silence stretched on. The Veil seemed endless, its air thick with unseen weight. Yet Ming didn't move. He couldn't. His body demanded rest, and for once, he listened.
He sat in the quiet, binding his thoughts the same way he had his wounds. Piece by piece. Breath by breath.
Not a soldier. Not a savior. Just a man who refused to stay dead.
His eyes drifted shut. Sleep clawed at the edges of him, heavy and insistent. He let it take him, even knowing rest here was dangerous. The forest was full of predators. But so was he.
And when he woke he'd be ready to cut deeper into the Veil.