The lingering scent of sulfur and extinguished darkness stung Kael's nostrils. He lay prone in the mud, his lungs still burning from the temporal boost's violent surge. He was alive, which was a vast improvement over the fate of everyone else in the compound, but his exhausted muscles screamed a protest that was louder than the rain.
Vitality: -50%. The warning on the System screen was a constant, stark reminder of the cost of survival. He pushed himself onto shaky elbows, the Apex System humming a low, almost meditative frequency in his mind. He focused on the panel, ignoring the pain to decipher the secrets that had just saved his life.
The Apex Sword Cultivation (Level 1) glowed brightly. He scrolled through the new menu, his eyes hungrily consuming the data. The Apex Cultivation wasn't just a list of techniques; it was a martial philosophy converted into pure data, a cheat designed to bypass years of grueling training. At Level 1, only one major skill was available:
[Apex Form I: Rending Flow]
Description: Focuses spiritual energy into a single, high-speed strike, capable of bypassing low-tier defenses.
Cost: 5 Stamina per activation.
Cooldown: 1 second.
Required: 10 XP
Kael checked his status. He had received 15 XP from the single Low-Grade Creature. Just enough. Activate Rending Flow. A searing, cold heat flooded his sword arm, yet his mind remained utterly clear. The System didn't just teach the skill; it integrated it, filling the gaps in his muscle memory with perfect form and precise control. He rose, lifting his rusted sword, and executed the move—a soundless, lightning-fast strike that cleaved the air and sent a shockwave splashing through a puddle ten feet away. It was perfect. It was cold. It was terrifyingly efficient. This was not the flawed, passionate swordsmanship of the old Guard. This was power.
He sheathed the blade and turned his back on the headquarters, the Master's sacrifice now a heavy, undeniable weight on his shoulders. He moved quickly, focused on getting out of the blood-soaked valley, but only minutes into his retreat, he heard something that stopped him dead: a quiet, desperate sob.
He rounded the corner of a collapsed barracks and found them huddled beneath the remains of a stone arch: three figures—two older men in civilian clothes, clearly servants or merchants who frequented the compound, and one young woman dressed in the faded, low-ranking uniform of a Quartermaster's assistant. They were soaked, shivering, and looked barely alive.
They saw Kael, bloodied and emerging from the death-zone, and their eyes widened with a mix of relief and immediate suspicion.
"Kael?" the older man, a familiar groundskeeper named Barus, whispered, his voice cracking. "They said you were exiled... You were the only one who made it out?"
The young woman, gripping a heavy brass-bound ledger, regarded Kael with wide, judgmental eyes.
"You should have been here," the merchant Torvin spat, his fear quickly turning to resentment. "If the Sword Masters hadn't been so arrogant, perhaps we wouldn't be hiding like rats!"
Kael didn't flinch. "I am here now," he stated simply, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't owe them an explanation for his exile, and he wouldn't waste time on defending the dead. He had a quest to complete. "Tell me what you know. Where are the creatures now?"
Just as Barus began to speak, detailing the chaos of the night, a high-pitched, echoing snarl cut across the compound. It was louder than the creature Kael had slain, and it was quickly joined by two others—a dissonant chorus of predatory hunger. The scent of blood, Kael realized, was still fresh on his sword and in the soil. The survivors' presence, coupled with the lingering scent of the Guard's annihilation, had created a beacon.
"They've found us!" Torvin shrieked, scrambling backward.
Three Mid-Grade Creatures—taller, faster, and armored with thick, chitinous plating—emerged from the smoke. Their red eyes locked onto the soft, easy prey huddled beneath the arch. They were not the low-grade shamblers. Their hide looked thick enough to shrug off a dozen ordinary strikes.
Kael did not panic. He had Rending Flow now. He had the Apex System. He drew his sword, the plain steel humming softly with the faint energy of his newly acquired skill. He stepped forward, placing himself squarely between the survivors and the monsters. He saw his targets not as beasts, but as three distinct opportunities for XP.
The closest creature lunged. Kael met it not with defense, but with pure aggression. Activate Rending Flow!
His sword became a blur, disappearing and reappearing in a flash of motion too fast for the naked eye to track. The technique focused his spiritual energy perfectly, and where a normal strike would have simply dinged off the creature's thick chitin, Rending Flow found the seams and joints. The creature let out a bubbling cry, blood spraying from multiple points as Kael instantly executed three precise, shallow cuts. It was crippled but not dead.
He spun, avoiding the clumsy swipe of the second monster's claw. The System flashed a new message: [Stamina: 7/12]. The Rending Flow was powerful, but costly. He couldn't afford a prolonged fight.
"Get behind me, and stay silent!" Kael commanded the survivors.
He focused on the first wounded creature, channeling a final burst of Rending Flow into a deep, downward chop that finally severed the monster's spine. The creature dissolved into black smoke.
A rewarding chime rang in Kael's mind: [XP Gained: 20!]
The two remaining creatures hesitated, momentarily confused by the loss of their comrade.
"The Shadow Lord," Barus, the groundskeeper, stammered from behind Kael, his voice laced with terror and awe. "The one they follow... he is gathering them at the Old Temple, less than half a day's ride!"
Kael didn't look back. He had his mission. He had his next target. He had his new focus. With two creatures still standing, he knew exactly what he had to do: finish them quickly, earn the necessary experience, and prevent the Shadow Lord's power from growing. He gripped his sword tighter, already planning the sequence of Rending Flows needed to ensure he survived the next sixty seconds.