The forest at night had its own kind of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but a silence that seemed to crouch in the undergrowth, waiting. Even the insects had stopped buzzing. A stillness so absolute it made the hair on the back of my neck rise.
That was when I felt it.
A pressure. Heavy. Predatory.
And then, from the shadow of the trees, it emerged.
The beast was panther-like in shape, but that was where the resemblance ended. Its body was grotesquely large, nearly twice the size of a warhorse, its muscles twitching and flexing under a sleek coat that gleamed an unnatural shade of black. Its eyes glowed faintly crimson, and a thick miasma of corrupted mana leaked from its body, staining the air like smoke. Jagged bone ridges jutted from its shoulders and spine, pulsing faintly as if alive, and its claws… longer than knives, curved, dripping with venomous saliva that hissed when it hit the ground.
The name came to my mind at once.
The Bloodhound.
A demonic beast, drenched in corruption. Once a panther, twisted beyond recognition by demon energy until only hunger and madness remained.
I glanced at Rufus, Dylan, and Amy. For once, their smug expressions were gone. Their faces had gone pale, eyes wide, bodies trembling.
Good.
I didn't need to lift a finger.
The Bloodhound's growl rumbled like distant thunder. Amy let out a shriek, stumbling backward, her hands glowing faintly as she instinctively tried to raise a psychic barrier. Rufus cursed under his breath, and Dylan muttered something incoherent, his entire frame shaking.
"W-what the hell is that thing!?" Rufus's voice cracked.
"D-demonic beast…!" Dylan stuttered. "It—it shouldn't even be here!"
Panic. Fear. Exactly what I wanted.
I kept my expression neutral, even as my pulse quickened. The truth was, this monster wasn't just dangerous to them—it was dangerous to me too. But I'd already calculated the outcome. I had seen this creature before—in the game. I knew its patterns, its savagery, and most importantly, how to survive it.
And I intended to use it.
The Bloodhound moved first.
It leapt. One moment it was crouched in shadow, the next it was a blur of black, slamming into Dylan with a wet, bone-crunching sound. His scream didn't even last a second before the beast's claws ripped through him, scattering blood across the grass. His body fell in two neat halves, the smell of iron filling the air.
Amy screamed again, this time louder, her psychic force lashing outward in a desperate wave. The Bloodhound barely flinched. The corrupted energy surrounding it ate away at her power, devouring it like flame consuming paper.
It lunged again. A claw caught her shoulder, ripping flesh. She staggered, shrieking, clutching the wound as blood poured freely.
Rufus's bravado had completely evaporated. He turned, bolting into the trees. Coward to the end.
I stepped into his path before he could escape. Sword raised.
"You—" he gasped, eyes wild. "You knew! You set this up!"
I tilted my head, voice cold. "You wanted me broken, Rufus. Consider this… repayment."
The Bloodhound barreled into him from behind before he could respond. His scream was cut short, his body crushed under the monster's weight. Blood soaked the soil.
Amy was the last. Her face was pale, streaked with tears and blood, eyes filled with pure terror as the Bloodhound towered over her.
"P-please! H-help me—" she begged, looking at me.
I met her gaze. Flat. Unmoved.
"I don't interfere with nature," I said. "And this… is natural selection."
The beast's jaws closed around her neck. The sound was wet, final.
And just like that—three problems were erased.
But the Bloodhound wasn't done. Its crimson eyes turned on me now, hunger burning within them.
My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword. I could have fled—my plan was already complete. But instead, I steadied myself.
This thing… it wasn't like the forest beasts I'd fought before. This was a different class altogether. Dangerous. Powerful. But maybe—just maybe—it was exactly what I needed.
"I'll see how far I can go," I murmured.
I activated **Dash**, launching forward, sword flashing. My blade struck its side with an audible crackle as I poured **Arc Discharge** into the strike. Lightning flared, searing fur and flesh. The Bloodhound roared in pain and fury, twisting faster than I expected, its claws raking across my ribs. The force sent me skidding back, pain exploding in my side.
I hissed, forcing my feet steady.
Not even close to critical damage.
Fine. Then let's try this.
I shifted mana, channeling through my blade. **Moon Slash.** A crescent of shimmering energy erupted, slicing across the Bloodhound's flank. The strike drew blood, dark and steaming—but shallow. Too shallow.
Frustration gnawed at me. Every strike I landed barely scratched it. Meanwhile, every blow from the beast threatened to tear me apart.
The Bloodhound lunged, corruption dripping from its fangs. I raised **Dimensional Veil**, space rippling around me. Its claw passed through where I stood, barely grazing as I slipped sideways through warped space. My counterstrike slashed across its shoulder, lightning arcing again—only to cut into muscle, not bone.
Not enough. Always not enough.
I gritted my teeth, panting hard. My chest burned. My body screamed with pain from cuts, bruises, bleeding wounds.
It wasn't working.
This was reality. Just because I had talents, affinities, and flashy skills didn't mean I was suddenly invincible. Growth didn't happen overnight. The gap between raw potential and true strength was vast, and this beast was reminding me of it with every failed strike.
I knew this. Rationally, I understood. But the futility still gnawed at me, irritating me to the core.
Then… something clicked.
**Perfect Poker**. The passive activated on its own, as if sensing the storm in my chest. My heartbeat slowed, my mind clearing, frustration cooling into icy focus.
Breathe. Calculate. Move.
I steadied myself, eyes narrowing on the Bloodhound.
It lunged again. I sidestepped, twisted, my blade carving in a precise arc. A spark of resistance jolted up my arm—bone. Not deep, but enough.
Again.
I poured everything into my next strike. **Dash. Arc Discharge. Moon Slash.** All layered, all focused. My blade burned with lightning and light, cutting through corrupted muscle. And this time—
I severed its leg.
The beast shrieked, collapsing to one side as black ichor poured from the stump. Its massive frame thrashed, tearing up dirt and trees, but crippled now.
I staggered back, panting, chest heaving, body screaming in protest. Cuts and bruises painted my skin, blood seeping from my ribs. But I was still standing.
Barely.
That was when I felt it—another presence. Heavy, suffocating, approaching fast.
A professor.
My eyes narrowed. If I was seen here, surrounded by corpses, next to a demonic beast… there would be too many questions.
I couldn't risk it.
I used **Dash**, forcing my battered body to move. Pain lanced through me with every step, but I didn't stop. I slipped through the trees, pushing deeper into the forest, then toward the dorms.
By the time I reached my room, the campus was silent. Night shielded me. No one saw me stagger across the courtyard. No cameras tracked me.
I slammed the door shut behind me, leaning against it, panting hard.
Blood. Sweat. Cuts across my arms, legs, chest. Nothing too deep. A relief. If I'd had to explain these in the infirmary, it would have been troublesome.
I let out a slow breath and raised my hand.
The sigil flared. **Sylandra's Blessing.**
Light spread over my body, stitching flesh, closing shallow wounds. The deeper cuts resisted, but dulled. Enough to move. Enough to endure. But the mana drain was heavier than I liked, leaving me lightheaded.
Still… relief.
I sank onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind replayed the fight—the Bloodhound's speed, its durability, my shallow strikes, my failures.
"I overestimated myself," I muttered. "I'm stronger than before, but… it's barely a step forward."
The truth stung. I wanted to be strong. Needed to be strong. But strength wasn't given—it was built. Slowly. Painfully.
It would take time.
The system's chime interrupted my thoughts.
\[Quest Completed]
\[Congratulations. You have received the skill: **Sword Mastery**]
\[Sword Mastery: A passive skill that increases one's innate understanding of the sword. Improves precision, efficiency, and instinctive reaction speed in combat. Allows the wielder to grow with the blade naturally, bridging the gap between raw talent and technique.]
I blinked, then let out a dry laugh. "Haa… I completely forgot about this."
The weight of the new skill settled over me. My hand brushed the sword beside me, and for the first time… it felt right. Natural.
"This is going to be useful," I admitted quietly. "Considering I had no clue what I was doing before…"
I leaned back, exhaustion flooding through me. My stomach growled faintly, reminding me I hadn't eaten since earlier.
"Great. Forgot to eat too."
But fatigue crushed me. My eyelids sank, too heavy to resist.
I let them close.
Tomorrow would come. And with it, another step forward.
For now… sleep.