—clink
—click
The sound of metal plates being fastened echoed in the stillness of the pine forest. A young man with dark hair hurriedly secured pieces of armor onto his body, his movements tense and deliberate.
Once he was fully armored, he crouched over the lifeless figure sprawled in a pool of blood before him, rummaging through the body with steady hands.
"Hmm, I guess this will have to do," he muttered, retrieving a sharp, curved dagger from the corpse's scabbard.
The heir of the Blackberry family lay motionless, pale as a ghost. Blood loss had claimed his life, and with it, his possessions. In this world, property of the dead was fair game, and the young man had no qualms about taking it.
—ROAR!!!
A feral bellow shattered the silence behind him, and he turned to face the source of the sound with a weary expression. The battle was nearly over; the last remnants of the hunting party had been slain by the beast.
(They didn't last as long as I thought they would,) the young man mused, his lips curling in a faint smirk.
He straightened his posture, fixing his gaze on the monstrous direwolf that loomed ahead. Despite having multiple opportunities to flee—from the initial attack to this very moment—he remained.
Why would he run? He wanted to be here.
Yes, this frail-looking slave boy had come to this clearing with purpose. Though his family had sold him into slavery, he viewed his new life not as a death sentence but as an opportunity.
Rumors about the Blackberry family hunting a grade-three sacred direwolf were true, and he had seized the chance to be part of it. Now, the beast stood battered and on the brink of death, a shadow of its former might.
—grip
The young man tightened his hold on the dagger, his knuckles whitening as he lowered himself into a crouched stance.
Then, without hesitation—
—woosh
He darted forward, angling to the left—the wolf's blind spot. His body remained low to the ground, a blur of motion as he reached for a discarded spear lying nearby.
With a deft motion, he hurled the spear into the air, aiming directly for the direwolf's ear.
—whiff
The wolf, weakened and distracted, howled in agony as the spear pierced its ear canal. Its howl faltered, replaced by an eerie silence as its hearing dulled.
Beasts.
In this world, creatures of unparalleled strength ruled the lands. From dense forests to arid deserts, monstrous beings prowled every corner, their power a constant threat.
Yet as terrifying as they were, beasts were also treasures. Their corpses held echoes—artifacts of immense power capable of changing the destiny of their slayers.
"The hind limbs."
The young man's voice cut through the din as he dashed forward, slashing the direwolf's hind legs with surgical precision. Tendons severed, and bones splintered under his blade, throwing the beast off balance.
(This beast will be the first of many,) he thought as he slid behind it, retrieving another spear from a fallen guard.
With practiced ease, he flung the weapon at the creature's other ear, then lunged for its vulnerable underbelly. Blood sprayed in arcs as his dagger struck over and over.
(When I'm done with it, I'll begin the path to true strength.)
Gritting his teeth, the slave boy pushed through the exhaustion weighing on his limbs.
He had come into this world with nothing but memories of betrayal and despair, burdens he had forged into anger and resolve.
(Only then will I stand on my own. Only then will I protect what's mine.)
—Aooooo
—winnnc
The direwolf whimpered. Its already-wounded body faltered under the relentless assault. One eye was swollen shut, and the other bled freely, blinding it.
Desperation overtook the beast as it lashed out wildly, its massive claws slicing through empty air. But its attacker moved like a shadow, never staying in one place for more than a heartbeat.
"Die!!" the young man roared, driving a spear into the wolf's neck. The beast crumpled to the ground, its body twitching in helpless spasms.
Panting, the boy stepped back and dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. He was still human, and the battle had pushed him to his limit. If not for the fire in his heart and the harsh lessons of his past, he might have collapsed alongside the wolf.
"I can't stop now," he whispered, straightening himself with effort. His eyes burned with determination as he approached the direwolf's prone form.
—heennnn
—heennnn
The beast's ragged breathing filled the air, each exhale a rasping reminder of its end. For weeks, it had fought against hunters, its body slowly succumbing to exhaustion.
But its suffering would not end naturally.
—Chuuu
With a final thrust, the dagger plunged into its skull, piercing the brain. The direwolf stilled, its labored breaths silenced forever.
[Ding, Grade-Three Sacred Beast Hunted: Wind Direwolf
Host has Awakened
Uploading stats…
Name: Gilliaman
Rank: Level 1
Affinity: ?? ?? ??
Agility: 15 Power: 20 Stamina: 25]
The notification echoed in his mind as a faint glow surrounded his body. After years of struggling as a mere mortal, Gilliaman had finally crossed the threshold.
He was a Slayer.
In his previous life, he had never been granted this chance before his world had been destroyed. Now, with his newfound strength, he vowed to take revenge and carve his name into history.
[Ding, Beast Echo Found: Wind Fang Blade
Wind Fang Blade:
• Attack Power: 22
• Agility Boost: +18
• Wind Element Affinity: +12%
• Durability: 150/150
• Special Skill: Gale Slash (Unleashes a sharp wind wave, dealing 130% weapon attack to enemies in a straight line. Cooldown: 10 seconds.)]
A radiant light appeared before him, coalescing into a blade suspended in midair. The dagger gleamed, its edge shimmering with an ethereal glow.
This was a Beast Echo.
With it, his power would grow exponentially.
But Gilliaman wasn't finished. Rising to his feet, he stepped back toward the direwolf's corpse.
Grunting, he wrenched his dagger free from the beast's skull. Dark blood dripped from the blade, pooling at his feet as he stared down at it.
"I hope this works," he murmured, voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.
The blood began to glow faintly, its shimmer spreading across the blade's surface. The air grew heavy, crackling with unseen energy.
Gilliaman took a deep breath, steadying his racing heart.
This was his gamble. The start of his path.
And there was no turning back.