Osric stayed where he was, shoulder pressed to the damp stone, breathing slowly until the tremor in his arms faded.
The tunnels were quiet again.
No skittering. No movement. No pressure clawing at the edge of his awareness.
And yet—
Nothing happened.
No blue light.
No system voice.
Osric frowned and straightened, eyes lifting instinctively.
The challenge hadn't ended.
His gaze drifted back toward the far wall.
The nest.
Dozens of small bodies lay bundled together in filth and shredded debris, blind and unaware, their breathing shallow and uneven. They hadn't fled. Hadn't reacted. They didn't understand what had happened—or what was coming.
Osric exhaled slowly.
"Of course," he murmured.
The objective hadn't been to kill the alpha.
It had been to eliminate the nest.
He stepped forward and unsheathed his sword again.
The iron blade caught faint light as he approached, its edge steady in his grip. He didn't hesitate—but neither did he rush. There was a brief, distant discomfort in his chest, an echo of something human.
It didn't stop him.
Osric had no pity for monsters.
He wasn't soft-hearted. He wasn't naïve. And he had long since learned that strength wasn't built on clean choices.
If this was the cost—
He would pay it.
He raised the sword and brought it down.
Not wildly.
Not cruelly.
Precisely.
The iron tip pierced small bodies one after another, each movement controlled, efficient, final. No anger. No hesitation. Just resolve carried through motion until the nest fell silent.
Only then did the pressure lift.
Blue light filled his vision.
[Challenge Completed]
Osric lowered the blade and let out a long, steady breath.
The tunnels felt different now.
Empty.
And for the first time since entering them, Osric knew—without doubt—that he had crossed another line.
Not because he enjoyed it.
But because he would do worse if that was what it took to become stronger.
Osric remained still for a few breaths after the light faded.
Then he turned back toward the alpha's corpse.
The massive rat lay sprawled where it had fallen, limbs slack, glassy eyes already dulling. Osric worked without ceremony, carving away the proof required for the mission—one of the long, curved claws and a section of the thick hide marked by his final strike. He wrapped them carefully, hands steady despite the ache settling into his muscles.
Only then did he begin the walk back.
The tunnels felt shorter on the return.
Not because the distance had changed—but because his awareness had. Shadows no longer pressed in. Sounds no longer blurred together. Even the darkness felt thinner, less oppressive, as if the tunnels had lost their claim on him.
As he walked, Osric raised a hand and checked his status.
Status
Name: Osric
Potential: E
Strength: 11
Agility: 11
Stamina: 11
Endurance: 9
Vitality: 9
Mana: 0
Skills:
Pain Resistance (E)
Combat Instinct (E)
Heightened Senses (E)
Agility had increased.
Heightened Senses had advanced.
He let the information settle.
It wasn't overwhelming power. It didn't suddenly make him safe from real monsters—or knights.
But it was progress.
Earned.
Osric lowered his hand.
'I'm still not strong enough,' he thought calmly.
Not frustrated.
Not disappointed.
Just aware.
What he had gained today wouldn't save him tomorrow if he stopped here. And that was fine. Wanting more wasn't greed—it was survival.
By the time he emerged back into daylight, the city air felt almost clean by comparison.
Osric headed straight for a nearby inn and paid without haggling. A warm bath washed the filth from his skin, stinging where claws had torn him but easing the deeper tension from his muscles. He followed it with a proper meal—simple, hot, filling.
Twelve copper gone.
Worth every coin.
When he left the inn, his clothes were cleaner, his wounds bandaged, his steps steady again.
An hour later, he entered the Adventurers' Guild.
The familiar noise wrapped around him as he crossed the floor, eyes already finding Franklin behind the desk. This time, he didn't hesitate.
Osric placed the wrapped proof on the counter and unfolded it carefully.
Franklin examined it in silence.
The claw.
The hide.
The size.
His expression didn't change—but his eyes sharpened slightly.
"Small nest?" Franklin asked.
"All of it," Osric replied. "Including the alpha."
Franklin studied him for a heartbeat longer, then nodded.
"Seventy copper," he said, setting the pouch down. "You earned it."
Osric took it and secured it without counting.
As he turned to leave, he felt it again—that quiet, assessing gaze on his back.
Not suspicion.
Interest.
Osric didn't look back.
He had what he came for.
And tomorrow, he would come back for more.