Ian's dagger danced through the air, slicing effortlessly through the thick hide of another vermin rank mana beast.
The creature let out a gurgled snarl before collapsing, lifeless. Its dark blood seeped into the earth, mixing with the countless other stains he had left along their path.
Ian exhaled sharply, flicking the blood from his blade before stepping over the carcass. The difference in difficulty was night and day. He remembered the struggle of fighting these creatures when they had first entered the Blood Forest—how each encounter had been a desperate scramble between survival and death.
But now?
Now he carved through them with practiced ease.
It wasn't just perception.
Eli had been right—his sluggish awareness had been his greatest weakness, and sharpening it had made all the difference. But Ian knew his growth wasn't solely due to training.
Every vermin he slew left something behind—soul essence, a fragment of vitality that fed into him through his necromantic abilities. With each soul absorbed, his strength grew, his body hardened, his reflexes quickened.
The changes were subtle, incremental, but undeniable.
Yet, he had also noticed a limit.
At first, the growth had been significant. The first few souls had been like a surge of power flooding his veins. But as he continued, each kill yielded less and less.
The gains dwindled, the improvement barely noticeable. It was as if his body—or perhaps the system itself—had diminishing returns on the souls of weak creatures.
Vermin were no longer enough.
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"We camp here, for now," Eli announced, stopping suddenly.
Ian halted beside him, instinctively scanning his surroundings. There was an eerie stillness to the air. Unlike before, where the forest had been alive with the chittering and growls of vermin lurking unseen in the shadows, here—there was nothing.
No noise. No skittering claws. No low growls of unseen threats.
Yet Ian knew they were not alone.
His skin prickled with an instinctive awareness, an unspoken certainty that there were things in the darkness, watching.
He turned to Eli. "I'm guessing we're in Predator territory now?"
"Yes," Eli confirmed, rolling his shoulders before stepping toward a nearby tree. With a single smooth motion, he unsheathed his sword and swung. The blade met wood, and with a loud crack, the tree splintered and fell, crashing into the earth.
Eli wasted no time, moving efficiently to cut the fallen wood into logs for both fire and seating.
Ian, still scanning the darkness, let his curiosity get the better of him.
"Why do they do that?"
Eli, now stacking the wood, glanced up.
"Do what?"
"Hesitate," Ian said, narrowing his eyes into the dark. "I can sense them. Their bloodlust, their hunger… yet instead of attacking, they're just watching. Same with the vermins before."
Eli smirked. "Why do you think?"
Ian thought for a moment before replying.
"You. They fear you."
Eli chuckled. "Mana beasts have instincts far keener than any human. They can feel overwhelming power, even if you can't perceive it. To them, they understand that to approach is to die."
Ian nodded slowly. "But that hesitation has a limit, doesn't it?"
"It does." Eli split another log with a single swing of his blade. "For most beasts, survival instinct overrides everything. But for some, bloodlust and hunger are stronger than logic. A few will still come, believing they can win."
Ian glanced at the shadows again. He had no doubt those few would make themselves known before long.
Eli stacked the last of the wood, wiping the dust from his palms before stepping closer to Ian.
"Well, enough talk. We're moving to the next phase of your training."
Ian turned to him. "And what's that?"
Eli's golden eyes gleamed in the dim firelight.
"You're going to fight a Predator Rank beast."
Ian exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on his dagger.
"If you are the slightest bit unprepared," Eli continued, "you will die."
Ian met his gaze, heart pounding but firm.
"Then let's begin immediately."
———
Eli wasted no time. The moment Ian confirmed his readiness, the brutal training resumed.
It was no longer about improving perception—it was about battle.
Soon enough hours had gone by and Eli trained Ian in the best method he knew—delivering a beating.
Eli was relentless. His strikes came fast, unyielding, each movement an execution meant to cripple or kill. Ian had no choice but to react. He ducked, rolled, and parried where he could, sweat slicking his skin as his body moved with instinct honed over the past few days.
But Eli was faster. Stronger.
Every time Ian managed to evade a strike, another was already coming. Every counter was met with overwhelming force. It was less a spar—it was survival.
"Move faster!" Eli barked as he swung his wooden stick in a brutal downward arc.
Ian barely managed to roll to the side before the strike splintered the ground where he had stood.
He leapt up, spinning on his heel to strike back, but Eli's foot was already colliding with his gut.
Ian's breath exploded from his lungs as he was sent sprawling backward, skidding against the dirt before slamming into a tree.
Pain flared through his ribs, but he grit his teeth and forced himself up.
Eli approached, tilting his head.
"You think that hurt?"
Ian coughed but didn't reply.
Eli let out a disappointed sigh. "You're too slow, Ian. Even after all this time, you're still reacting instead of predicting. Against a Predator Rank beast, that means death."
Ian's fists clenched. He knew Eli was right. He had improved, but against something truly fast—against something strong enough that wanted him dead—he was still too slow.
But he refused to stay that way.
Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward, dagger poised.
"Again."
Eli smiled. "Good."
And so, the cycle continued.
Night fell, and the training didn't stop. Ian fought until his body felt like lead, until bruises and welts covered his skin, until exhaustion clawed at his mind. But he pushed forward.
For hours, he dodged. He countered. He adapted.
And slowly—painfully—he got faster.
He felt the difference in the way his feet moved, the way his body anticipated strikes before his mind could consciously process them.
The system confirmed it.
---
[Agility Increased: +1]
[Strength Increased: +1]
---
It was a small gain, but one Ian knew would be the difference between life and death.
By the time Eli finally relented, the sky was turning grey with the first hints of dawn.
Ian collapsed onto the dirt, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. His entire body ached, but there was something else—something stronger than the exhaustion.
A hunger.
A desire for more strength.