Ilias stepped outside the cottage, feeling the cool evening air brush against his skin. The quiet stillness of the forest was punctuated by the soft rustling of leaves. The cottage behind him was simple yet spacious—three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living room, and even a guest room. But what truly mattered wasn't the comfort inside. It was the barrier surrounding the cottage, powered by mana stones embedded in a stone tablet etched with five inscriptions. It was that barrier which kept the dangers of the forest at bay.
His eyes settled on the dark silhouette lurking just beyond the edge of the barrier—a Wolf. The creature's thick black fur bristled under the pale light, and its glowing yellow eyes stared blankly ahead. It couldn't see him or the cottage. The barrier shielded them both from its senses.
But Ilias knew it was only a matter of time before he'd need to face such threats. His grip tightened on the spear he held. 'I need to know where I stand,' he thought. He couldn't rely on the cores, not yet. They were too dangerous, and the memory of their uncontrollable power haunted him. He wanted to measure his current abilities first—without resorting to the force that had once destroyed him.
As soon as he stepped through the barrier, the wolf's head snapped toward him, its glowing eyes narrowing as they locked onto his form. It was watching him, evaluating him. Ilias felt a flicker of tension as he approached, but he kept his movements steady, calculating.
'I won't give it the chance,' he thought as he dashed forward, spear aimed at the wolf's chest. The beast reacted instantly, sidestepping his thrust with eerie grace and lunging back with teeth bared. Ilias barely dodged in time, the wolf's claws swiping dangerously close to his arm.
Its speed was astounding, and for a moment, Ilias faltered. The wolf's eyes gleamed with intelligence, almost mocking him. But Ilias pressed on, determined to take control of the situation. He swung the spear with precision, aiming for the wolf's head this time. The tip of the spear grazed its fur, but the beast dodged again, its body moving like a shadow.
The creature circled him, muscles tense, waiting for the right moment to strike. Ilias knew what it was doing—testing him, watching his every move. But two could play that game.
Suddenly, the wolf lunged, its jaws snapping at his throat. Ilias sidestepped and thrust his spear again, this time connecting with the wolf's side. A sharp yelp pierced the air, but the wound wasn't deep. The wolf staggered back, clearly angered. 'Good,' Ilias thought. Anger clouds judgment.
The next strike came faster than expected. The wolf pounced with incredible force, and although Ilias managed to deflect the initial blow with his spear, its claws raked across his chest. He gasped as pain flared through his body. A shallow but painful gash now stretched across his torso, and warm blood began to seep through his shirt.
Ilias didn't let the pain distract him. His face remained calm as he twisted his body and slashed the wolf across its face, aiming for its eyes. The spear found its mark, cutting into the beast's eyes. The wolf howled, a piercing cry of agony, and thrashed about in a desperate frenzy.
But even blind, the wolf was still deadly. It didn't retreat. Instead, it seemed to focus on him with an unnatural precision, its head fixed on Ilias with burning intensity. The wolf moved again, faster than ever, as if driven by some unseen force. Before Ilias could react, its claws found him again, slashing deep across his chest and sending him sprawling backward.
Blood sprayed onto the ground as Ilias struggled to stay upright. His vision blurred, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He clutched his chest in a vain attempt to stem the bleeding, but the wound was too deep. He could feel his strength slipping away with every drop of blood that hit the earth.
The wolf was closing in, its growl low and menacing as it approached. It was mere seconds away from finishing him off.
'I'm going to die again,' he thought bitterly. A wave of helplessness surged through him, but he forced it down. He couldn't let it end like this. Not again. Not like this.
With a trembling hand, Ilias sunk into the depths of his soul. He felt the two cores pulsing within him—the blue and the green. He had no choice. Without hesitation, he poured his remaining mana into the blue core.
{Host has acquired skill (Water Manipulation: Stage 1)}. {Host has acquired skill: Healing Palm}.
Knowledge of these skills embedded themselves into his brain.
The wolf leaped at him, fangs bared. But this time, Ilias was ready.
With a flick of his wrist, he raised his hand toward the wolf and commanded, "Stop."
The wolf froze mid-air, its body jerking unnaturally as if an invisible force had taken hold of it. Ilias's voice was cold and calm as he gave the final command. "Burst."
In an instant, the water inside the wolf's body obeyed his will. Its muscles tensed as its body bloated grotesquely, the liquid expanding beyond control. There was a sickening crack, and the wolf exploded, showering the ground with blood and viscera. The air hung heavy with the scent of death.
Ilias collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. The use of the blue core had drained his mana far too quickly, and the blood loss from his wounds wasn't slowing. He placed his hand weakly over his chest and activated Healing Palm. Slowly, his flesh began to knit together, the flow of blood stemming slightly, but the weakness remained. After a few minutes, the gash was gone, though his body still felt weak from the strain.
He stared at the remains of the wolf, a small spherical object—the wolf's core—left behind in the carnage. But he couldn't bring himself to move just yet. His body was shaking, not from the exertion, but from the weight of his thoughts.
'I should be happy,' he thought, But in truth, he felt nothing. His wounds were healed, but there was still the gaping emptiness in his soul.
'I'm too weak,' he admitted to himself, bitterly. 'My only real advantage is these cores. Without them, what am I?' He looked up at the night sky, the stars cold and distant above him. 'How can I hope for revenge when I can barely survive this?'
A quiet sadness filled him, not from his wounds but from the emptiness that had crept into his soul over the years. Who was he now? Was he still Ilias, or had Alypos consumed what little of the boy remained?
He sighed, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "Who am I?" he whispered. "Am I Ilias or Alypos?"
But as the wind whispered through the trees and the bloodstained ground cooled beneath him, a strange peace settled over his mind. The confusion didn't matter—not now. His existence, fragmented as it was, would find its own meaning.
"The answer is simple," he murmured to himself, standing shakily. His voice grew stronger, more resolute. "I am me."
He looked at the cottage behind him, at the life he would build, at the revenge he would claim. "From today onwards, my name is Alypos Ilias."
And with that, he walked back with the wolf's core into the cottage. The stars shined and shimmered brightly that night.