After devouring the ugly wolf monster's disgusting heart, Lyric replaced the bait and retreated behind the boulder, his body still digesting the foul meal. He stayed alert, waiting to see if any other monsters would end up caught in the snares. Time dragged on in the eerie stillness of the Rift, but Lyric was accustomed to patience.
Four more hours passed. The silence was broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures. Finally, his traps paid off again. Two more of the rotten wolf monsters were ensnared. Their appearance was no less grotesque, but Lyric didn't hesitate. With swift precision, he killed them both and devoured their disgusting hearts, forcing down the bitter blood to hydrate himself. Each heart was a necessary evil, but at least it was keeping him alive.
Through the continuous use of the [Heartbound Devourer Technique], Lyric started to notice the differences it was making.
First, his sensitivity to the ambient mana around him had grown stronger. It was subtle at first, a slight tingling in the air that he had never felt before. But the more mana he absorbed, the clearer it became. He was beginning to sense the flow of mana around him, something that increased with every monster he consumed.
The other change was more immediately noticeable: his physical strength and regeneration were improving.
Lyric had been paying attention to his body's recovery. The bruises he had woken up with had been healing at an alarming rate, faster than they should have, given the injuries. At first, he assumed it was just mana, but then he realized something. Mana didn't heal the body unless it had a healing affinity or attribute. He certainly didn't have that.
What was healing him was the constant intake of monstrous hearts. The technique was not just fortifying his mana but also improving his physical state. His body was becoming more resilient, his endurance increasing with each hunt and every trap he set. Even the physical strain of preparing the traps was no longer as taxing as it once was. He could feel the difference.
With every heart consumed, Lyric wasn't just surviving—he was becoming stronger. And that thought, unsettling as it was, gave him hope. The Rift was testing him, but with each victory, he was adapting. He would be ready for stronger prey if he didn't become prey himself.
Sneaking back to the crevice he was using as a temporary camp, Lyric finally felt a sense of satisfaction. His hunger was sated, the sickening taste of the wolf monsters' hearts still lingering in his mouth, but no longer a concern. The gnawing in his stomach had quieted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he could try to rest and recuperate.
But before he could sleep, there was still work to be done.
He wasn't naive enough to think the Rift would let him rest easily. Lyric spent the next hour setting up traps around the crevice, making sure that nothing could get too close unnoticed. Snares, pitfall traps, and even a couple of alarm systems with some makeshift noise-makers in case anything tried to get too close while he slept. He made sure the area was covered from every angle, each trap strategically placed for maximum effectiveness.
When he was finished, Lyric finally allowed himself to settle. His muscles ached from the day's work, but his mind was sharp, and he stayed alert. The night was still, but the Rift had proven time and time again that it wasn't safe to trust the silence. He lay there, his body stretched out on the cold stone of the crevice, but his eyes were open, ears straining for any suspicious noise.
Having slept soundly and not being abruptly awakened by stray beasts, Lyric woke up in a better mood, though he was still trapped in a Rift, so it wasn't the best mood.
He stretched and groaned, the aches in his muscles a reminder of the previous day's trials. Moving through the blackened forest, he made his way back to the snare traps. But when he arrived, he found them broken, the bait gone.
They broke out of the trap and took the bait, Lyric mused, his frown deepening.
He sighed. The creatures in this Rift were smarter than he'd expected. He'd have to move the traps to a new location, or else the beasts that broke the trap might come back looking for food.
While sneaking through the forest and collecting more usable vines, Lyric suddenly caught a shadow flash by in the corner of his eye. Before he could react, something swiped at him.
SWOOSH!
His heart pounded, the adrenaline surging through him in an instant. His survival instincts kicked in, screaming at him to either kill the beast or run. His twin knives were already in his hands, his body tense and ready.
The beast was a larger version of the rotten wolves he had hunted before, but this one was different. It radiated power, its mana much stronger than the smaller ones he had encountered. Lyric could feel the beast's presence, its aura almost suffocating as it stood before him.
Both Lyric and the wolf froze, their eyes locking. Neither made a move, each waiting for the other to strike first, trying to gauge the other's weaknesses. Lyric was wary of the wolf's strength and speed, but the wolf seemed equally cautious of Lyric's knives.
The standoff didn't last long. The wolf quickly lost patience.
SWOOSH!
With a burst of speed, the wolf lunged, its claws aimed directly at Lyric's lower stomach, seeking a vulnerable spot. Lyric had anticipated this kind of attack. With quick reflexes, he shoved the wolf's claws away using the flat side of one knife, while his other knife flashed, slicing through the beast's neck with precision.
The wolf let out a final, strangled growl before its body went limp, collapsing to the ground in a heap.
Lyric stood over the fallen wolf, his breath heavy but steady. He wiped the blood from his knives, his mind racing. This wolf had been stronger than the others, and its mana was a clear sign that he was nearing a new level of danger in the Rift. But for now, the threat was gone. He had triumphed.
One step closer to being ready for whatever comes next, Lyric thought, scanning the area. The Rift was harsh, but he wasn't backing down.
Walking up to the beast's corpse, Lyric mumbled to himself in the quiet forest.
"Let's see how much you give me, you stinking beast."
Quickly, he dug the heart out of the wolf, scarfing it down with a practiced ease. As the horrible taste filled his mouth, Lyric couldn't help but realize that he was starting to get used to gutting monsters for their hearts. The surge of mana that filled his body was undeniable, stronger than the previous ones.
'I can feel it...'
While Lyric was still in the early stages of the Commoner rank, nowhere near advancing to Knight rank, he could feel himself slowly growing stronger with each heart he devoured. The technique was working, but it still felt like a strange, unsettling process, but still soothing process.
He left the rest of the wolf's body where it fell. There was no way he could drag it back to the crevice without attracting even stronger beasts—ones that he wasn't sure he could handle just yet.
Alongside the mana coursing through his body, Lyric could feel the subtle shift in his mental state. His Affinity for fire was starting to take effect in ways he hadn't fully anticipated. His mind felt hotter and more intense, and his desire to fight grew. The urge to be less strategic, more reckless, was rising within him.
'This is what the academy was supposed to be for.'
Lyric had never wanted to go to the academy. He had dreamed of living the same life his father had—one of hunting in their village, living off the land. But his father had always known the risks of awakening mana, and he'd known about affinities long before Lyric had even tested his own.
Affinities were with a person from the day they were born. They could never be changed. You either accepted the affinity you were born with or rejected it, but either way, after awakening, it would affect your personality.
Lyric's affinity had been tested before he boarded the academy's airship, and it had shown up as fire. Now, his affinity was manifesting more clearly, making him feel more aggressive, and more prone to charging into situations rather than thinking them through.
Though it was still controllable, the fire inside him was harder to handle without the guidance of teachers or tutors—the very reason he had wanted to go to the academy.