Chapter 29 – hunting resumes.
Slash.
Thud.
The blade cut cleanly through flesh and bone. A beast's head toppled to the ground, rolling a short distance before coming to a stop.
Seth exhaled through his nose, lowering his sword as the corpse collapsed beside him. It had been a level five beast—it wasn't particularly weak for an initiate, yet with Seth's physique where it now stood, the thing hadn't even had time to react before its life ended.
He bent down, dug out the glowing core, and slipped it into his pouch.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
Today's goal was simple: hunt enough cores to push himself to the ninth level. And if luck permitted, gather a surplus—enough to edge toward the peak of the initiate realm.
As he walked, his sharp eyes caught patterns in the silence. The streets and ruined buildings were emptier than before. Beasts were scarce. Level two beasts had completely vanished, and even level threes appeared only once or twice along his path.
He frowned. Strange…
For days he had noticed the decline, but now it was undeniable. Even level ones previously nowhere to be found now skulked through the corners, yet not a single level two crossed his path. Whatever was happening, the balance of the city was shifting.
Still, he pressed forward. Every level five and above he encountered met his blade, while the weaker ones ge scared off with the sharp edge of his presence.
The closer he drew to the Waterhouse, the denser the beasts became.
And stronger.
The empty streets gave way to skittering claws, guttural roars, and the heavy scent of blood. Shapes lurked in alleys and shadows, eyes glimmering in hunger.
Seth slowed his steps, his grip tightening around the sword hilt. He was confident in his strength, but he was no fool. Even now, he was under no illusion—if he were to be swarmed, not even his current strength would save him.
Worse yet, there was the possibility of novice-ranked beasts among them.
He still remembered the lizard that had nearly taken his life. Against a low novice he could now hold his ground, perhaps even win with relative ease. But a higher-level novice? He might be torn apart before he realized what was happening.
That knowledge kept his steps measured. Every move deliberate.
At some point during the hunt, his hardened expression shifted into boredom.
Even before, with a physique stat of twelve, he had outstripped most initiates. Now, with nineteen points and a better mastery of the sword, the gap was absurd.
His blade carved through beasts faster than their instincts could react.
When a pack of six wolves lunged from the ruins, Seth barely shifted his stance. One casual swing—half lazy, half precise—sent the blade expanding mid-motion. Flesh parted like wet paper, and all six dropped lifeless before their claws even touched the ground.
He had learnt his lesson and began implementing the weapon skills. The wolves probably never understood how they died.
Not that Seth was complaining. But a sigh still escaped his lips.
By the time the sky had darkened, his pouch was heavy. Blood streaked his face and dried against his skin, yet his eyes gleamed faintly with satisfaction.
He had enough cores for today. Maybe extra.
Thud.
He set down the limp body of a wolf in the ruins he had called home for the past two weeks. Wood piled into a crude firepit, sparks rose, and soon the air was thick with the smell of roasting meat.
He ate, then reclined to rest. Somewhere between breaths, sleep claimed him.
Crack.
Rumble.
Seth's eyes snapped open to the sound of thunder. Midnight. A storm was gathering, the sky swollen with heavy black clouds.
He sat up slowly, watching faint flashes ripple in the distance, and a rare smile tugged at his lips. Rain. It had rained weeks ago, but back then he had been too broken to care.
Now, the thought of washing away the dried blood and filth clinging to his body stirred a flicker of glee.
He grabbed his pouch, emptied it onto the ground, and crouched before the small mountain of cores.
The tally:
29 level fives
21 level sixes
19 level sevens
20 level eights
14 level nines
A harvest greater than anything he had gathered in a single day.
Setting aside the novice-ranked core, he began absorbing the rest. One after another, light streamed into him, filling his core until the familiar wall formed.
100%.
Seth sat cross-legged, his breath slowing. The breakthrough came.
Pain seared through his body, tearing at his insides—only to be replaced by the rush of relief. Muscles surged with power, bones thrummed with strength, and the last of his wounds faded faster than before.
When he opened his eyes again, his presence felt heavier. Denser.
He had reached the Initiate, level nine.
His stats reflected the leap—Physique: 20. Spirit: 14.
The imbalance remained, but he knew it was a problem easily solved with SP later. For now, it was enough.
Exhaling slowly, Seth returned to the pile and absorbed the rest. His core pulsed, settling at 16% saturation.
He did not know whether yo laugh or cry. The cores he thought would be enough till the peak of level nine, did not even go a fifth of the way. The difference was immense.
Signing.
He could only depend on the lizard's core now.