It was obvious the students were going to lose to the wolves.
Kael didn't waste time.
Slipping behind the pack, he picked up a rock—heavy, about the size of a softball or a piece of fruit. He hurled it toward the far side of the courtyard, away from the students.
Clink—clack!
The rock struck a fallen metal gate. The noise echoed—sharp, sudden.
Several of the wolves turned. So did one of the students.
It didn't matter.
That moment of confusion was all Kael needed.
He broke cover and lunged, spear drawn. His head pierced through the neck of the nearest wolf in a clean, fluid motion. Blood sprayed. Before the others could react, he pivoted and slashed across the flank of another, tearing into muscle and bone.
"Help me here!" Kael shouted, voice cutting through the chaos. "We've got them off balance!"
The student with the bone axe—the only one with real instincts—didn't hesitate. While his classmates flinched or faltered, he surged forward, bringing his weapon down hard on the same wolf Kael had wounded.
The axe struck the creature's snout, splitting it open in a spray of black blood.
The wolf howled in agony.
And while it was reeling, Kael struck again.
He drove his spear into the wolf's ribs, lifting the beast with sheer force, and slammed it into the ground hard enough to shake the tiles.
The fight was far from over.
But for the first time… the wolves weren't the only predators on the field.
The wolf howled in pain as it died, its body collapsing and leaving behind a faintly glowing Hexagon Cube on the ground.
"Keep attacking! Don't let up—keep the pressure on them!" Kael shouted as he charged forward, striking at the nearest wolf without hesitation.
As if shaken from a trance, the two remaining students snapped into action. Gripping their weapons, they joined the fray, their strikes wild but determined.
The battle turned into a bloodbath.
Thanks to Kael, what had once been certain death for the students was now true for the wolves—especially with Kael fighting like three men rolled into one.
With a final slash, the last wolf collapsed, twitching as it hit the blood-soaked ground. Out of the seven wolves, only three Hexagon Cubes remained.
'Good. At least wolves leave better drops than zombies,' Kael thought, wiping the sweat from his brow. His limbs were starting to ache, fatigue creeping in from the relentless fighting. He needed rest.
"Thank you so much!" a short girl with long brown hair said, stepping forward and bowing slightly.
"Um, yeah. No problem," Kael replied, trying to keep himself upright.
"No, really—thank you. We would've died if it weren't for you," said the man with the bone axe, wiping sweat from his beard.
"Well, if you really want to thank me, I'll take my pick of the three Hexagons and call ourselves even," Kael said, trying to strike a deal.
"No man, that's perfectly fine with me," one of them said quickly.
"Yeah," the other nodded. "Makes sense. You saved our asses. Take your pick, man—we don't care."
Both guys spoke in near unison, fully aware they weren't in a position to argue about loot rights.
"Alright then. I'll take my pick once we know what's inside," Kael said as he bent down and picked them up to open.
Kael opened the first Hexagon Cube.
A shimmer of pale light pulsed, and from the cracked crystal emerged a weapon—a curved fang dagger. The blade gleamed with a white sheen, serrated like a predator's tooth. Its handle, dark and rough, was made from bone wrapped in sinew—lightweight, primal, deadly.
It settled into his hand with ease.
Like an extension of his arm.
[Item Acquired: Fangblade – Tier 1]
— Weapon carved from corrupted apex predator bone.
— Passive Effect: Bleeding Rend – Attacks have a low chance to inflict a bleed status, causing minor damage over time.
"Pretty nice kill," Kael muttered, twirling the blade once before placing it on a broken bench.
He then reached for the next Cube. Another pulse of light, another object—this time, a vial filled with red liquid.
A faint glow curled inside like smoke.
[Item Acquired: Crude Health Potion – Tier 1]
— Alchemical-grade restorative. Restores minor Vitality when consumed.
— Warning: Ineffective if used more than once within a short period.
"A health potion," Kael said aloud, eyes narrowing. "At least, that's what the System calls it…"
"It is," Seraphiel confirmed, her voice curling into his thoughts like coals whispering in the dark. "A simple restorative. The first thing all alchemists learn to craft. Rudimentary, but useful."
Kael grunted in acknowledgment.
He opened the third Cube.
This one dropped with a heavier thud.
Kael crouched and picked it up.
A pair of dark hide leggings, rugged and worn, lined with soft inner fur. Wolfhide, just like his jacket. Faint silver etchings crawled along the hems.
It also match his jacket as if it was part of a set.
[Item Acquired: Wolfhide Reaver Leggings – Tier 1]
— Crafted from the essence of a corrupted beast. Offers light protection and improved agility.
— Passive Effect: Predator's Balance – Slightly enhances movement speed and jump height when engaging hostile creatures.
Kael held them up, turning them over.
"They match," he muttered.
Without another word, he slid them on. The fit was perfect. Comfortable. Tight in a way that felt secure—not restrictive.
Like something a caveman warlord might wear. Or a barbarian king standing on the bones of his enemies.
"Alright then—here, you take the dagger. I'll grab these pants, and you can have the health potion. Don't think I didn't notice your friend hiding in the corner, bloodied up. Go ahead and help him."
Kael's tone softened just a bit.
"Are you sure that's all you want? Just the pants? You don't want the dagger?" the girl asked.
"Yeah," Kael replied. "That's all I need."
"Okay… and what about now?" she asked, a little hopeful. "Will you let us follow you?"
Kael shook his head. "Look, I don't feel comfortable moving with a group. The bigger the crowd, the more monsters we'll attract. But if you don't feel safe in your small group, head to Korn Dorm. I've been telling everyone I run into to go there."
He pointed behind him.
"I've been clearing a path in that direction. Obviously, more zombies might've shown up since, but you should have a decent chance of getting there and meeting up with the others. And… tell them Kael sent you."
He hesitated for a second, then added:
"I didn't tell everyone my name, but a few of them will know who I am. So regroup. Figure things out."
He turned, already preparing to leave.
"I need to hit level ten. I've got a feeling something special might happen when I do."
He gave them a short nod.
"Good luck."
Without waiting for a reply, Kael jogged off into the distance, already disappearing into the ruins, ready to continue his mayhem.
Jogging through the shattered amphitheater, Kael stepped over a carpet of corpses.
Monsters. Humans. Zombies.
You name it—it was probably there.
But despite the slaughter, something felt off.
There was no life left. No movement. No breath.
"Seraphiel… didn't you say 80% of humans would survive the System?" Kael muttered aloud. "Then why are there so many dead?"
"While 80% were compatible, Kael, that doesn't mean they all survived. Think about it. What's the first thing that came after the System activated? Monsters. Chaos. Hunger."
Seraphiel's voice flowed through his thoughts like smoke—soft, but edged.
"Most of your kind can't even make it up a flight of stairs without wheezing. Now picture them facing zombies, beasts, and creatures that were never meant to exist in your world. That initial wave? It culled the weak."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Your elderly population? Gone. Most people over sixty didn't stand a chance. Probably even those in their fifties and forties too, if they were unprepared. And let's be honest—how many of you were prepared?"
A pause.
"Don't let it alarm you, though. I'd wager only a quarter of that original 80% are still alive now. The System gives you a shot… but it doesn't hold your hand."
"Are you kidding me? A quarter?!"
Kael's voice cracked, raw with disbelief.
"You're trying to tell me that's good? A quarter?"
He laughed—bitter, hollow.
"There were eight billion people on this planet. And now you're telling me only two billion are going to survive?"
His fists clenched.
"And that's just an estimate."
He shook his head, voice rising.
"Are you serious right now? The System doesn't give a damn! Doesn't do shit!"
His blood felt like it was boiling—anger bubbling up and spilling over.
"And this is what God calls a gift? His final gift?" he snarled.
"A twenty percent chance to live? That's like flipping a coin and landing heads twice in a row!"
He staggered forward, pacing without direction, breathing hard.
"Hell—my life should've been over already! And—wait…"
He paused, then snapped his head up.
"I did the math wrong."
His eyes widened, breath stuttering.
"You said only eighty percent were eligible… not that they'd survive. That means—"
"GOD!"
Kael screamed, voice echoing across the desolate amphitheater.
His chest heaved, each breath ragged. But before he could spiral further, a low groan cut through the silence.
He turned.
There it was.
A zombie.
Hunched. Twitching. Dead eyes locking onto him.
Kael's rage found a target.
"Perfect timing," he growled.
Then he charged—fury and flame trailing behind his fists.
All the calm. All the poise and collectedness Kael had been clinging to—
It shattered.
The pain.
The agony.
The truth of this new reality.
It was just too much for one person to bear.
No matter how well he'd adapted… there's only so much a soul can take.
And Kael had reached his limit.
It boiled over.
Rage and sorrow coalescing into fire—twinned flames igniting across his body as he unleashed it all, fists raining down on the twitching corpse until it crumbled into ash.
His chest heaved. Hands trembled.
Then—
"Are you done?"
A voice, calm and quiet, echoed in his mind.
Kael stood over the scorched body, breath ragged. "Yeah… yeah," he muttered, voice low and hollow.
"Good. Because everything you said is true."
Seraphiel's voice softened, heavy with grief.
"Everything is fucked. Everything is god-awful. God left us. He left me, my brothers, my sisters—his children. His creations. The world that worshipped him? Gone."
A pause.
"So yeah… your anger? It's justified."
"And why do you think I came down here?"
"Why I gave up my divinity? My rank? My secret vow?"
She hesitated. Then—
"Because I feel the same way, Kael."
"But we can't lose ourselves to it. We have to stay calm. Focused. Collected."
"Otherwise, what's the point? What was all this pain for?"
Her words echoed like a slow-burning truth.
"We might be the forsaken—cast out, left behind. But that doesn't mean we're finished."
Kael didn't answer, but his fists unclenched.
"We'll forge our own light," Seraphiel said gently, a vow sealed in flame.
"One that shines on the path we write."