Aelion approached the fallen rabbit with a hunter's caution, his enhanced senses stretched to their limit.
He scanned the surrounding bushes and the dappled shadows beneath the trees, detecting no movement or threat for a considerable distance.
The forest was momentarily still, holding its breath.
Satisfied he was alone, he reached down to touch the corpse, intending to store it in his inventory for later use.
His 10-square-meter storage space was a finite resource, and he knew he would need to find a proper storage artifact soon to manage his spoils effectively.
The moment his fingers made contact with the still-warm fur, the heart symbol branded on his palm flared with a sudden, crimson light.
A visible gust of wind, generated by the flow of energy, whipped around his hand. He watched, fascinated, as the very vitality of the rabbit—a shimmering, sanguine essence—was siphoned from the corpse and drawn into the symbol on his palm.
The body instantly became desiccated and dull.
Before he could process this, a small, shimmering orb of soft white light emerged from the remains and flew directly into his chest.
Aelion felt a strange, tingling energy suffuse his body, a subtle restructuring occurring deep within his muscles and nerves.
It was not a painful sensation, but one of integration, as if a new piece of code was being written into his physical form.
He immediately stood up and summoned his status screen, his eyes scanning the information until they landed on a new entry.
[Traits: None]→[Traits: Light Foot]
[Trait: Light foot]
[Effect: Increases Movement by 10%]
His gaze brightened with sharp understanding.
The [Heart of True Bloodlines] was not just for absorbing bloodlines from powerful beasts; it could also extract and integrate passive traits from any monster he slew.
This changed everything.
It turned every encounter into a potential source of permanent, cumulative enhancement.
Driven by this revelation, he sent his consciousness into the heart symbol itself.
Within its conceptual space, he could sense the reservoir of raw vitality he had just absorbed, a pulsing, crimson energy waiting to be utilized.
Methodically, he moved through the forest's edge, seeking out the other small creatures.
Aelion could already feel the tangible benefits of his newly acquired traits. With each step, the [Light Foot] trait made his movement noticeably easier, his feet barely disturbing the undergrowth as he moved with a predator's silence. The forest around him began to change, the dense thickets giving way to sparser woodlands.
The rich, complex scent of the wilderness, now sharper thanks to [Keen Nose], began to be dispersed by a different, colder air flowing from ahead.
He soon emerged from the treeline and stood before a formidable sight: a massive, sturdy iron gate set into a high stone wall that stretched into the distance in both directions.
It was a clear boundary, marking the end of the wilds and the beginning of something structured.
The moment he appeared, four soldiers in polished, functional armor materialized from concealed positions, surrounding him with practiced efficiency. Their expressions were neutral, their eyes assessing.
Aelion's gaze grew instantly cold, the memory of betrayal and hidden shackles fresh in his mind. A katana, its blade simple and unadorned, appeared in his hand from his inventory.
In response, heavy, dark iron chains, links etched with faintly glowing runes, uncoiled from the soldiers' gauntlets, hovering in the air with a menacing readiness.
Without a word, Aelion sent a surge of his mana into the blade. A blue sheen, the color of concentrated will, enveloped the steel.
He didn't know a specific technique; he simply visualized his intent and acted. With a sharp, horizontal wave of the sword, a crescent arc of pure mana shot forward.
[Created skill: Sword Arc]
[Achievement unlocked: First skill]
The system notification flashed, but Aelion had no time to acknowledge it. The four soldiers moved in perfect unison.
Their individual chains wove together in mid-air, forming a dense, interlinked net that met the mana arc.
There was no explosion, only a sizzling sound as the blue energy dissipated against the runic barrier, the net holding firm.
Aelion's eyes narrowed. He responded by slashing out several more arcs in rapid succession, forcing the guards to maintain their defensive formation.
In the brief opening, a glow—a manifestation of his [Light Foot] trait and enhanced agility—flared around his feet.
He swished sideways with impossible speed, breaking their encirclement in a blur of motion.
Now positioned at a more advantageous angle, he raised his sword overhead, both hands gripping the hilt.
The Formless Sword Art was not a set of rigid forms, but a principle of adapting intent to circumstance.
He poured his will into the blade, visualizing not a cut, but a division, a cleaving of the very earth.
"[Formless Sword Art: Mountain Splitter]"
He brought the sword down. It did not clash with a chain directly.
Instead, the concentrated force of the strike met the space where several chains were converging to block him.
A resounding clank, like a massive bell being struck, echoed across the plain. The impact generated a visible shockwave, a gust of wind that shot forward, tearing a furrow in the earth and forcing the soldiers to brace themselves, their chain net shuddering violently from the concussive force.
The standoff had escalated into a relentless dance of steel and shimmering chain-links. Aelion moved with the fluid grace granted by his new traits, his Formless Sword Art allowing him to adapt to the soldiers' coordinated assaults.
He parried, dodged, and countered, his mana-infused sword clashing against the rune-etched iron.
Yet, with each exchange, he felt a worrying drain on his concentration and energy reserves.
The soldiers were unyielding, their defense impeccable, their offense a constant, pressing threat.
A frown marred his features.
The expenditure was far greater than he had anticipated; the passive drain of maintaining his enhanced state and the active cost of his mana techniques were rapidly depleting him.
He calculated coldly that if this intensity continued for just five more minutes, his energy would be spent, his defenses would crumble, and he would be defeated.
It was at this critical juncture that the nature of the battle shifted.
The four soldiers, moving as a single entity, began to glow. One of them exuded a deep, aquatic blue aura that clung to the air with a palpable humidity.
The other three were wreathed in a vibrant, life-filled green energy. The very atmosphere grew heavy with the scent of ozone and damp earth.
Aelion's eyes narrowed to slits, his enhanced perception instantly identifying the energies.
'Wood element and water element,' he realized.