Heavy rain battered Vaelen's face like pebbles of ice. Gravity pulled him down from the second-floor balcony with sickening speed.
In his old life, Adrian would have surely broken his legs or died from a fall of this height. However, Vaelen's body, freshly injected with supernatural steroids by the System, reacted differently.
Focus.
As the ground rushed up, Vaelen bent his knees, bracing for impact, then dissipated the momentum by performing a forward roll onto the muddy garden grass.
THUD.
It still hurt. His heels stung, and his shoulder, grazed by Gareth's sword, screamed in protest. But no bones were broken. He rolled once more, immediately sprang to his feet, and started running.
He didn't look back. He knew what was happening up there. Torchlights began to flare in every window of the mansion. The shouts of guards echoed through the roar of the storm.
"THERE HE IS! IN THE LOWER GARDEN!" "CATCH THAT BASTARD!" "ARROWS! READY THE ARROWS!"
The twang of bowstrings could be heard amidst the howling wind. A split second later, something whizzed past Vaelen's right ear. An arrow embedded itself in the trunk of an oak tree, vibrating violently right next to his head.
Vaelen growled. He forced his legs to move faster. Gareth's stolen leather boots were too big, making him nearly slip in the slick mud, but his enhanced Agility forced him to keep his balance.
He didn't run in a straight line. He zigzagged, vaulting between garden statues and ornamental bushes, using the Blackwood family's lavish decorations as his living shields.
"Don't let him reach the woods!" shouted the heavy voice of a commander. "If he gets in there, we can't chase him!"
The mansion's perimeter fence was dead ahead. It was a three-meter-high wrought iron fence separating the "civilization" of the Kingdom of Eisenwald from the "madness" of the wild. Behind that fence, the darkness became absolute. Ordinary trees gave way to pale grey-barked trees that twisted strangely.
The Grey Woods.
Vaelen didn't slow down. He leaped, his foot finding purchase on the iron ornaments of the fence, then with one heavy heave of breath, he threw his body over the sharp spikes at the top.
The fabric of his trousers caught slightly, tearing with a rrrip sound, but he managed to land on the other side.
The soil here was different. Not the loose, humus-smelling garden soil. The earth of The Grey Woods was hard, cold, and smelled like rotting meat buried shallowly.
Vaelen rolled and immediately crouched behind a thorny bush, his breath heaving like a broken steam engine. His hand gripped the hilt of his short sword tightly, ready to fight.
However, no one jumped over to follow him.
Vaelen peeked through the gaps in the fence.
Five fully armed guards stood on the mansion garden side. Their torches illuminated the iron fence, but not a single one of them dared to step past that boundary. Their faces were pale, their eyes staring into the darkness behind Vaelen's back with pure fear.
"Let him go," said one of the guards, lowering his crossbow. His hands were trembling. "He's already dead. The Greys will eat him before morning."
"Do we need to report to the Master that we failed to catch him?"
"Failed? Just say he committed suicide. Entering The Grey Woods is the same as jumping off a cliff."
They turned around, hurrying back to the mansion as if the forest's darkness might extend a tongue and drag them in if they lingered too long.
Vaelen sneered in the dark. Rainwater dripped from his nose, which was crooked from being broken.
"Thanks for your pessimism," he muttered. "It saved my life."
He turned away, putting his back to the warm lights of the mansion, and limped into the embrace of the deadly forest.
After ten minutes of walking, the sound of the storm somehow subsided, replaced by a silence that pressed against the ears. This forest wasn't quiet; it was mute. Like a beast holding its breath before an ambush.
The trees here towered high, their bark pale grey like the skin of a dead man. Their branches had no leaves, only sharp twigs intertwined to form a dense canopy that blocked out both moonlight and rain. A thin mist crept along the ground at knee height.
Vaelen found a large hollow beneath the roots of a giant tree protruding from the ground. The place was dry enough and hidden.
He crawled inside, leaning against the hard wood.
Now, as the adrenaline faded, the pain came to collect its debt. His entire body screamed. His nose throbbed violently. His shoulder stung.
Vaelen took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He needed to see what he had just gained. The profit from his gamble with death.
"System," he called out in his mind.
A transparent blue screen—though with edges that looked like dripping black ink—appeared in front of him.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Vaelen Blackwood
Race: Human (Awakened Anomaly)
Rank: Mortal Realm - Rank 9 (Middle Stage)
Job: None
Titles: Gravewalker, Kin-Slayer.
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength: 4 -> 6 (Stronger than average teen)
Agility: 4 -> 10 (Athlete level)
Vitality: 3 -> 6 (Recovering)
Mana: 0 (Locked)
Abyssal Qi: 5/50 (New Resource!)
Sanity: 92/100 (Stable)
[SKILLS]
Passive: Entropy Metabolism (Can digest toxins/corrupt energy).
Active: Prototype Siphon (Touch-based energy drain).
[CULTIVATION]
Meridian: Abyssal Root (Grade 1)
Technique: Scripture of The Formless Hunger.
Vaelen's eyes fixed on the Abyssal Qi line. It wasn't Mana. In this world, Mana was used by mages to manipulate external elements, while Qi was used by knights to strengthen the body. Vaelen, as trash without talent, possessed neither.
But now, he had something else.
"Abyssal Root... An artificial Meridian formed from that Outer God parasite," Vaelen murmured.
He closed his eyes and tried to follow the basic instructions implanted by the System into his brain regarding the Scripture of The Formless Hunger.
If normal cultivation was described as a calm flowing river, this technique felt like swallowing razor blades.
Vaelen winced as he tried to draw energy from the Abyssal Root in his stomach. The energy was cold, rough, and felt malicious. It flowed through his blood pathways, forcibly burning away impurities and weakness in his body.
Gulp.
He felt hunger. Not the hunger for bread or meat, but the hunger to tear something apart. This technique demanded fuel.
[Manual Tip: Scripture of The Formless Hunger]
[How to cultivate: Eat. Absorb. Do not meditate under a waterfall like a fool. Hunt other creatures. Drink their fear. Swallow their life core. The stronger your prey, the faster you Rank up.]
"Simple," Vaelen opened his eyes. "The law of the jungle with extra steps."
He liked the system's brutal honesty. No hypocrisy about "balance of nature" or "justice". Only the strong eat, the weak become food. Exactly like the business world on Earth, only this time more literal.
Snap.
The sound of a breaking twig came from outside the root hollow.
Vaelen froze. His eyes narrowed, piercing the darkness of the mist.
There, about ten meters from his hiding spot, a pair of red eyes glowed in the dark. It stood only as high as an adult human's waist.
Its form slowly became visible as the creature stepped forward. It looked like a wolf, but its skin was hairless, revealing wet red muscles. On its back, pulsating black mushrooms grew.
[Wild Mutation: Plagued Scavenger Dog]
[Rank: 9 (Low Stage)]
[Threat: Low]
The mutant dog sniffed the air. Its nose caught the scent of fresh blood from Vaelen's shoulder. It growled low, acidic saliva dripping from its yellow fangs, hissing as it hit the ground.
For a normal person who had just survived an assassination attempt, seeing this monster would trigger panic.
But Vaelen? He actually felt a strange vibration in his stomach. His Abyssal Root reacted. Hungry.
"Rank 9 Low Stage..." Vaelen muttered, his fingers caressing the hilt of his sword. "An appetizer."
The dog leaped, targeting Vaelen's neck inside the hollow.
Vaelen didn't retreat. He used the confined space of the root cave as an advantage. As the dog hung in the air, Vaelen swung his sword upward with both hands.
Not a panicked slash, but a calculated thrust.
SPLAT!
The sword pierced the dog's chest, using the beast's own jumping momentum. Vaelen braced the sword hilt with his shoulder, letting the heavy dog's body slam into him, splashing foul-smelling blood onto his face.
The creature thrashed, clawing at Vaelen's arms, but Vaelen didn't care. He activated Prototype Siphon.
His left hand gripped the dog's head.
SLUUURP.
The dog's life energy was sucked out, forcibly pulled into Vaelen's new meridian system. The beast's thrashing weakened in seconds until finally, it stopped completely.
Vaelen kicked the dried carcass of the dog out of the cave.
He wiped the blood from his face. There was a dangerous glint in his grey eyes. The pain in his body lessened again. His energy was slightly replenished.
He stared out at the vast expanse of The Grey Woods, dark and filled with the roars of monsters in the distance far more terrifying than just a mutant dog.
Here he was now. Among monsters. In a place where his noble status meant nothing.
"Adrian is dead," he whispered to the cold night.
He held his chest, feeling a new heartbeat that was slow but strong.
"The old Vaelen Blackwood is also dead."
He looked into the depths of the forest, as if challenging the darkness itself.
"From now on, I am just a hungry hunter."
Vaelen closed his eyes, leaning against the damp earthen wall, and for the first time since he arrived in this world, he slept. The light sleep of a predator ready to pounce as soon as the sun rose.