Malrik stepped up to the corpse of a zombie and pulled a knife from its skull. Then, without pause, he began hacking at the head again, searching for the core.
After a while of chopping, to his surprise, he actually found it—a small, blood-red orb. Based on the knowledge Kunpeng had passed onto him, this was indeed a core.
"Haha, our luck's not bad at all. With this, our strength will improve. I can finally use a divine skill," Malrik laughed with satisfaction.
At last, he was on the verge of gaining enough power to truly accomplish something in this apocalypse-ridden world.
"Divine skill?" Lucien frowned. He suddenly felt like he'd hit the jackpot by betting on the right guy.
After all, just from the name alone, it was clear this wasn't anything ordinary.
"That's right. When I opened a mystery box, I got a divine skill. It's incredibly useful, especially for a delivery man like me. One day, I might actually become the fastest damn courier in the world," Malrik said with a grin. Every time he thought of that divine skill, a wave of satisfaction surged through him.
Hearing that, Lucien could immediately guess—the divine skill had to be related to speed. And judging from Malrik's expression, that speed must be absolutely absurd.
Trying to follow Malrik's lead, Lucien examined the zombie he'd just killed but this time came up empty-handed.
"Damn it! What's the logic behind this? The zombie I killed was clearly stronger, yet it didn't drop a core," Lucien cursed under his breath.
Though most zombies didn't have cores, it still felt like a stroke of bad luck that the very first one he killed had nothing at all.
"What are you worried about? Once I reach One-Star, I'll take you to hunt for cores. Even if we're super unlucky, smashing through a dozen of them should get us at least one. Now watch me—if you can learn, great. If not, no big deal," Malrik said, patting Lucien's shoulder.
Then, he pulled out a pair of medical gloves, slipped them on, and dipped his fingers into the zombie's blood. He knelt down and began drawing on the ground with his fingertips.
What he was drawing was called a One-Star magic circle—a circular formation filled with intricate details that looked overwhelmingly complex.
If it weren't for Kunpeng directly imprinting it into his mind, there would be no telling how long it would've taken him to memorize such an intricate design.
After completing the magic circle, it was time for the One-Star sacrifice.
In this case, the sacrifice was, of course, the corpse of the zombie that had dropped the core.
Not all zombies were created equal. Only those that carried a core were officially recognized as one-star creatures.
The zombie Malrik had fought was originally much stronger, but it seemed the person it had once been had suffered a severe accident before turning. Because of that, its power as a zombie had been significantly diminished.
Zombies might not feel pain or fear, but that didn't mean their strength remained intact. Damage to their muscles or bones could still weaken them.
Malrik placed the zombie's corpse atop the magic circle, held the core in his hand, and stood in front of the formation, muttering something under his breath.
It was a strange language—even Malrik himself didn't know what it meant. Kunpeng had taught him the chant, so he simply repeated it exactly as instructed.
The magic circle began to glow. The zombie's corpse slowly broke apart, dissolving into streams of energy that flowed directly into the core in Malrik's hand.
Then, without his control, the core floated into the air, hovering precisely one meter above the center of the drawn circle.
As the zombie's body fully disintegrated, the blood on the magic circle began to evaporate. The red energy streams merged and fused into the floating core.
The once solid blood-red orb transformed into a floating mass of liquid—thick, dark red, and absolutely putrid.
Even though Malrik had been warned it would stink, he hadn't expected it to reek even worse than a rotting zombie.
Still, for the sake of power, he was ready to endure whatever it took—even this repulsive experience.
He opened his mouth wide and, without hesitation, bit into the floating red sludge and gulped the entire thing down.
Malrik immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing himself to swallow.
The taste was even more revolting than anything he'd imagined. He nearly threw up everything he'd eaten earlier right onto the floor.
"How fearless..." Lucien murmured, genuinely impressed by Malrik's determination—even as he pinched his nose shut to block out the smell.
The moment he imagined himself having to gulp down that horrifying substance, he couldn't help but shudder all over.
After swallowing the potion, the veins all over Malrik's body lit up in vivid detail. His body heated up, and strange reactions began surging through him—though thankfully, it wasn't all that painful.
Within a few seconds, his condition gradually stabilized.
Lucien wasn't sure if he was hallucinating, but at that moment, he felt like Malrik could easily defeat him with minimal effort.
Malrik opened his eyes and looked down at his palm. He clenched his fist tightly, feeling the miraculous transformation that had taken place within him.
"Worth it. Completely worth it," he said with a satisfied grin.
His current sensation could only be described as phenomenal—like he could punch a hole straight through a concrete wall.
He felt like he was about to ascend into the sky.
Wait—scratch that—he actually had a skill that let him fly.
After all, Skyshatter Soar was a divine skill built for high-speed aerial movement.
"Was that the breakthrough?" Lucien asked.
"That's right," Malrik replied. "Now I just need to gather materials and brew a potion to help you break through too. Once you're One-Star, we can go hunting for cores and trade them in for uniforms."
"I feel like that core looked a lot like something I've read about in novels. If I just eat it raw, can I still break through?" Lucien asked curiously.
"Well… it's not impossible," Malrik said, not hiding the truth. "It's a simpler method, but the risk is way higher. They say out of ten people who try, maybe one survives. The rest? Dead."
He wasn't making it up either. The breakthrough method Kunpeng had given him had clearly explained the risks of consuming cores directly.
Hearing that, Lucien immediately gave up on the idea. He wasn't an idiot.
Why risk your life when there's a safer and better way? Unless he was completely desperate, there was no reason to gamble like that.
"Lend me your sword for a bit. Stay here and wait—I can move faster alone," Malrik said, though in truth, he didn't really expect the other guy to hand over his prized weapon.
But to his surprise, Lucien casually tossed the sword to him without a second thought.
Malrik caught it mid-air, casting a slightly odd glance in Lucien's direction.
"You're my cult master, and I'm a member of the Cult of the Evil God. If we can't trust each other, how the hell are we supposed to work together later?" Lucien said bluntly.
Was he worried?
No!
Once he decided to cooperate, then that meant absolute trust.
Anyone aiming to accomplish great things had to know when to put faith in others.
Until the goal was achieved, that trust would never waver.
"Hahaha, good. Very good! Looks like I didn't misjudge you after all." Malrik laughed heartily, genuinely pleased.
"Wait here for a bit—and don't forget to lock the door properly," he added, before quickly dashing out.