"Anyway, it's time to leave this place since it's almost time for the tournament," Sumit said aloud, as much to himself as to the lingering silence. "But first, it's time to claim my reward."
He turned and began retracing his steps to the spot where the remains of the black tree lay. Unlike the plant monsters that disintegrated into dust upon defeat, the tree hadn't completely vanished. Its upper sections were obliterated during the fight, but parts of its trunk still clung stubbornly to existence, though they were visibly decaying.
The sight was unsettling—the blackened remains were leeching energy from the ground as they decomposed, leaving patches of soil lifeless and brittle.
"If you're going to die, you should at least die alone," Sumit muttered, stepping closer. Without hesitation, he placed both hands on the decaying trunk, activating his 'energy drain' technique.
This time, he didn't release the absorbed energy. He simply pulled it in, fueling his energy while hastening the tree's decomposition. The process was rapid. The dark wood withered and crumbled, breaking apart into ash-like fragments that scattered in the wind. In mere moments, the once-menacing tree was gone.
What remained surprised Sumit. Among the debris, a single, dark wooden stick lay untouched. It was 34 inches long and shaped like a blade—sleek, curved, and sharp like a katana, though it lacked a hand guard.
Sumit picked it up, turning it over in his hands. The dark wood felt strange, almost alive, and it pulsed faintly with residual energy.
"Although I wanted something fancier, this isn't so bad," he said, admiring his new weapon. Curious, he channeled his energy into the blade. The moment his energy flowed through it, the sword felt different—lighter, sharper, and brimming with power.
"What's this feeling?" Sumit wondered aloud, giving the blade a test swing. It cut through the air with a low hum, leaving a faint shimmer in its wake.
His gaze shifted to a nearby boulder, towering at 100 inches tall and 170 inches wide—about the size of ten people standing shoulder-to-shoulder. With his aura coursing through the blade, Sumit stepped toward the massive rock and swung.
SLICE.
The sound was clean, almost surgical. The enormous boulder split in two, each half sliding apart and thudding to the ground.
Sumit stared at the result, his jaw hanging open. "What the hell!? Is this boulder made of paper or butter?"
He looked down at the blade in his hands, awe mixing with exhilaration. "This… this might be the coolest thing I've ever had but the problem is it consumes more energy than the staff."
Sumit swung the sword a few more times, his movements becoming smoother with each attempt. He focused on infusing less energy into the blade with every swing, observing the effects. Over the next hour, through trial and error, he managed to minimize the energy consumption. However, he noticed a trade-off—less energy meant reduced output.
"All right, that sums it up," Sumit said, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow. He stared at the sword, its faint wooden glow dimming as his aura settled. "I'll call this attack Aura-Slash. Even if it consumes more energy, the power it packs is insane. Let's leave it at that."
Satisfied with his progress, he walked over to the tree where he had hidden his bag before the battle. Retrieving it, he slung it over his shoulder and took a deep breath. "Time to move out of this forest," he muttered, determination settling in his eyes as he began his journey to the capital.
...
The dense forest canopy above filtered the sunlight into fragmented beams, guiding his path through the wilderness. As Sumit walked, his thoughts drifted to the tournament and his reason for participating. His eyes flickered to his wrist, and the faint weight of the device returned to his consciousness.
"This damn watch," he muttered under his breath. It had attached itself to him without warning and given him that cryptic piece of advice about joining the competition. He slowed to a stop, suddenly struck by a thought.
"Does this device have a feature to erase its presence or something?" He raised his wrist, staring at the device as if it might respond. "I completely forgot about this thing stuck to me. Scary."
It was just Sumit's thoughts, but in truth, he is just an idiot who easily forgets things. Plus, he is a person who accepted anything easily that was the reason he accepted the whole transported to another world simply.
Shaking his arm as if to emphasize his frustration, Sumit resumed his journey. Whatever the device's true purpose, he was determined to uncover its secrets. One thing was certain—the tournament held answers, and he was going to find them.
The hours stretched on as Sumit walked through the dense forest. After three hours, he stumbled upon the river. Grateful for the discovery, he decided to follow it upstream as instructed by the Wolf-man Jack. For the next seven days, the river was his guide, though his frequent detours to gather food slowed his progress. Each time he ventured off, it took him four to five hours to locate the river again, making his journey feel like an endless cycle.
By the seventh day, Sumit felt like a zombie, trudging along the riverbank with a single-minded focus. His persistence finally paid off when he reached a massive gate flanked by towering walls. The river, to his surprise, flowed straight through the city beyond the gate. Dusting off his clothes, he approached with cautious excitement.
"Stop right there!" a gruff voice called out. Two goat-man guards, clad in polished armor, stepped forward, blocking his path.
"State your purpose," one of the guards demanded.
"I'm here to take part in the tournament," Sumit replied confidently.
The second goat-man narrowed his eyes. "Do you have identity proof?"
"What? I don't have something like that," Sumit said, his tone laced with confusion.
"Then you can't enter the capital. Turn around before you get hurt," the first guard said firmly, gripping his weapon.
"Wait! Wait! Let me check my bag… where is it… is it this? No, that's just coins… maybe this?" Sumit rummaged through his bag with increasing urgency. Just as the guards exchanged a skeptical glance, Sumit pulled out the slate-like tablet he had taken from the Cat-man long ago.
He held it up triumphantly. "Is this what you're looking for?"
The goat-man took the tablet from him, examining it closely. After a moment, he punched a hole in the slate with his finger, handing it back to Sumit.
"Welcome to the Capital, Mr. Kaali Billi," the guard said, gesturing for him to pass through the gate.
Sumit froze. "Who?" he asked, utterly baffled as he stared at the guard.