The morning sun barely crept over the horizon, casting a muted glow over the jagged rocks. Alypos stood still, his breath steady, eyes closed as he concentrated on the power coursing through his body. It felt different now—stronger, sharper. He was taller, his muscles denser, and every movement seemed to hum with an intensity that wasn't there before.
His transformation from (G+) to (F-) rank was unmistakable. Power radiated from every pore, and yet, that power felt unfamiliar, like wearing clothes that didn't quite fit. He needed to adjust. Fighters like Alypos were more than just vessels of strength—they were masters of their own bodies. Every inch, every muscle, every joint had to work like a well-oiled machine, with no room for error.
Today was about reacquainting himself with his body.
He strode toward one of the larger jagged rocks nearby, the same rock he had tested his strength on when he was (G) rank. Back then, he couldn't leave so much as a mark. Now, with a casual punch, he shattered it into countless pieces, the fragments scattering across the ground like dust.
Alypos stared at his fist, momentarily surprised at the ease with which the rock crumbled. This was the difference between (G) and (F) rank. It was staggering. A cold, calculating part of his mind began to measure the gap. How many of his past selves could he defeat now? Ten? Twenty? He reckoned he could face 20 of his old (G+) ranked self without breaking a sweat.
But raw power wasn't enough. Control was everything. He had always valued precision over brute force, and now he needed both.
With a sharp exhale, Alypos fell into the forms of his Flowing Style, the martial art that had become an extension of his very essence. Each movement was fluid, each strike blending into the next without hesitation. The new power in his body made the style even more graceful and unpredictable. He moved like water—relentless, adaptive, and impossible to pin down.
For hours, he practiced. Punches, kicks, and sweeps flowed seamlessly, his body adjusting to the new strength and speed. He could feel the improvement with every repetition. His enhanced agility allowed him to perform feats of balance and coordination that would have been impossible just days ago.
Yet something was missing. He had mastered the basics of his Flowing Style, but it needed more. More precision. More versatility.
***
After hours of practice, Alypos paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. His mind was racing with ideas. The Flowing Style was, at its core, about unpredictability. Like water, it could take any shape, adapt to any situation, and strike without warning. But for it to be truly effective, he needed to expand its repertoire.
"Four moves," he muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Four new techniques to complement the core of the style."
His first priority was defense. He couldn't rely solely on evasion. He needed something solid, something that could withstand an enemy's attack and buy him time. His mind drifted to water's defensive properties—its pressure, its ability to form barriers. That would be his first move.
Move One: Water Wall
He envisioned a thick wall of water, dense and high-pressure, capable of withstanding both physical and magical attacks. The idea was simple: a shield of water that could block incoming strikes. For added versatility, he would adapt it to form a sphere around him when faced with multiple opponents.
But offense couldn't be ignored either. His final attack—the Swirling Water Pool—was a devastating, all-encompassing strike, but it was also mana-intensive. He needed something more efficient, more practical for prolonged combat.
Move Two: Water Spear
His second move would be the return of the Water Spear. It was a technique he had used before, but now it would be refined. The spear would be denser, sharper, and infused with water mana to increase its cutting power. It would be a weapon of precision, allowing him to strike at range without exhausting his mana reserves.
But speed was just as important. His Flowing Style depended on constant movement, on staying one step ahead of his opponent. For his third move, he needed something to enhance his mobility.
Move Three: Water Glide
He pictured himself gliding across the battlefield, water channeled beneath his feet, allowing him to move faster than any normal human could. The water would reduce friction, making his movements not only quicker but more fluid. Combined with the spear, he would be a blur, able to strike and retreat before his enemies could react.
That left the fourth move. Something to control his enemies, to keep them where he wanted them while he prepared his final attack.
Move Four: Tendril Trap
Water, when pressurized and directed, could become as strong as steel. He would use this to his advantage. His fourth move would be Water Tendrils—long, flexible chains of water that could latch onto his enemies and hold them in place. They would be nearly impossible to break free from, allowing him to finish them off with his final attack. He could already envision the tendrils wrapping around an enemy, tightening like chains, while he summoned the Swirling Water Pool to obliterate them.
The plan was set. Over the next two days, he would perfect these moves. By the time the forest wolves—the overlords of this region—noticed the thinning prey population, they would come. And when they did, Alypos would be ready.
This time, the predator would not be them. It would be him.
***
From a distance, Nibbles watched Alypos with keen, beady eyes. Perched high on a nearby tree branch, the small squirrel's tail flicked back and forth as he observed the human below. Alypos had changed—Nibbles could see it, even if he couldn't fully comprehend the nuances of human transformation.
But the energy was different. More focused. More dangerous.
Nibbles knew this because, as Alypos's self-appointed companion and occasional scout, he had grown attuned to the boy's presence. The waves of mana that radiated from him were far more intense now, like a river surging after a storm.
The squirrel's nose twitched as he scanned the area. Even Nibbles could sense that the balance of power in the forest was shifting. Prey animals were becoming scarce, and that meant the larger predators would be on the move soon. Nibbles didn't like that one bit. The wolves were bad news. They were smarter than the usual beasts, more cunning, and worse—they hunted in packs.
Nibbles scurried down the tree, his small paws moving quickly but quietly. He darted across the ground, coming to a stop at Alypos's feet. With exaggerated gestures, he mimed the act of biting and slashing, then pointed toward the deeper part of the forest.
Alypos, in the middle of his meditation, opened one eye and glanced down at the squirrel. "Wolves?"
Nibbles bobbed his head, making a soft chittering sound.
Alypos smirked. "Good. Let them come."
The squirrel tilted his head, confused. Alypos wasn't usually this... eager. Usually, he was calm, calculating, always planning three steps ahead. Nibbles flicked his tail again and gave a resigned squeak. If Alypos was confident, then so was Nibbles—well, mostly.
After all, Nibbles had faced goblins and wild boars by Alypos's side. They had survived those encounters, and surely they could handle a few wolves, right?
Still, the small squirrel wasn't one to take chances. With a quick leap, he darted back into the underbrush, his sharp eyes scanning for anything out of place. If Alypos was going to be the predator, Nibbles would make sure the prey didn't sneak up on him.
Alypos POV
As the sun dipped low, Alypos stood, his mind clear and focused. He had run through the new techniques in his head multiple times, calculating every angle, every potential flaw. He had a plan. And tomorrow, he would begin the real work of turning those plans into reality.
With Nibbles scouting and the wolves on the horizon, the next two days would be crucial. But Alypos wasn't afraid.
The forest belonged to the strong. Soon, it would belong to him.