The forest was silent, save for the soft crunch of Vein's boots sinking into the thick snow.
Cold bit at his face, but he ignored it, focusing instead on his breathing—calm, steady.
The Duskwind Forest wasn't particularly vast, but it held dangers nonetheless.
The mana beasts lurking within rarely strayed too far, yet every so often, an adventurer would return bloodied, their corpses dragged out days later.
He adjusted his grip on the swords at his waist. Their weight still felt unnatural to him.
Was it because he had spent years wielding nothing but mana? Or perhaps because he was still not good enough?
His senses stretched outward, grasping at the faint traces of mana pulsing in the air.
Even with his crippled core, his ability to perceive mana had never faded.
There.
A strong presence.
Something massive.
Vein carefully made his way forward, maneuvering through frost-covered branches and uneven terrain.
The closer he got, the heavier the air felt—like standing in the presence of something that should not be disturbed.
Then, he saw it.
A Frosthide Bear.
Its sheer size was monstrous—easily over four meters tall.
Thick white fur coated its body, blending seamlessly into the snowy landscape, but what stood out were the ice crystals protruding from its back, pulsing with faint blue light.
A mana beast.
Vein took a slow breath. He had no spells, no circle to rely on.
Only his swords.
The bear's head suddenly snapped toward him.
A guttural roar ripped through the air, sending a wave of frost scattering across the ground.
The beast's deep blue eyes locked onto Vein, filled with instinctive hostility.
Then, it charged.
The ground shook beneath its massive steps. Snow sprayed in all directions as it closed the distance in mere moments.
Vein barely had time to react.
His body moved on instinct, rolling to the side just as the bear's clawed paw crashed into the ground where he had stood. A deafening impact followed, sending ice and dirt flying.
He gritted his teeth and steadied himself, bringing one sword up while keeping the other low.
The bear wasted no time. It swiped again, faster than something its size should be capable of.
Vein barely managed to parry, but the sheer force sent him skidding backward, boots digging into the snow.
"Tch—it's strong."
Musashi's lessons flooded his mind.
Adapt. Flow like water. Read your opponent.
The bear lunged again.
This time, Vein didn't try to block. He sidestepped, letting the beast's weight carry it past him.
As it stumbled forward, he struck—a clean slash across its hind leg.
A deep gash formed, but the blade barely sank in.
Its hide was too thick.
The bear roared, turning sharply. Its paw came crashing down, and Vein barely managed to throw himself backward, avoiding instant death by a hair's breadth.
He landed hard on the ground, his breath misting in the freezing air.
"Think, damn it."
He couldn't win through brute force. He wasn't strong enough.
But he didn't need to be.
The crystals on its back. They pulsed whenever the bear moved. Could they be its mana focus?
He had no time to confirm. The bear charged again, its maw open, aiming to crush him whole.
Vein reacted instantly—he ran forward.
Closing the distance instead of retreating.
The beast didn't expect it.
At the last second, Vein dropped low, sliding beneath the bear's massive frame.
His swords lashed out, cutting across its underbelly as he passed.
A howl of pain tore through the air.
Rolling to his feet, Vein spun around just as the bear staggered, its blood staining the snow.
The wound was deep, but not enough.
"I need to end this now."
Summoning every ounce of strength he had, he dashed forward, one sword raised.
The bear, sensing the kill, roared and lunged one final time.
Vein didn't hesitate.
As the massive paw descended, he twisted his body—using its own weight against it.
His sword carved upward, slicing into the exposed throat of the beast.
A spray of hot blood erupted into the cold air.
The bear's charge faltered. Its massive frame staggered, its roars turning into choked gasps.
Then, with a final thud, it collapsed.
Silence.
Vein stood there, breath heavy, hands trembling from exertion. The swords in his grip were slick with blood, their edges worn from impact.
He had won.
But it wasn't clean.
He looked down at himself—his coat torn, bruises forming along his arms. He had barely survived.
This wasn't like the sparring he had done with Musashi. There was no teaching, no mercy.
Vein exhaled, his breath visible in the frigid air.
His muscles burned, his coat was soaked in blood—some his own, some not—but he was alive.
The Frosthide Bear lay motionless behind him, its blood staining the snow in thick, steaming pools.
"If I had attacked its back…"
A shiver ran through him. If he had made that mistake, if he had struck the mana-infused crystals, the beast's latent energy would have exploded, and he wouldn't be standing here now.
"I need to check the Encyclopedia later…"
He turned to leave, but then—
A scream.
Distant. Faint. But unmistakably human.
Vein's breath hitched. His body moved before his mind caught up, legs carrying him toward the sound, toward the unknown.
Through the snow-laden trees, he saw it—a cavern, its gaping maw like the mouth of some ancient beast, swallowing the light from the outside.
An uneasy feeling settled in his gut. His instincts screamed turn back.
But he didn't.
He stepped forward, crossing the threshold.
***
The air inside the cave was stale—damp, thick with the scent of iron and decay.
Vein tread carefully, his boots brushing against slick stone as he descended further.
The tunnel sloped downward, narrowing as he moved.
Shadows flickered along the jagged walls, stretching like grasping fingers in the dim glow of the ice crystals embedded in the stone.
Then—a voice.
Weak. Desperate.
He crouched low, creeping forward until he saw them.
Four adventurers.
Three lay on the ground, their armor dented, bodies slick with blood. The fourth—a young woman, possibly a mage, clutched her stomach, her robes stained crimson.
Her breathing was shallow.
Then, as if sensing his presence, she slowly lifted her head.
Vein met her gaze.
Tears welled in her eyes as she mouthed words through trembling lips:
"Please… save us…"
Her body sagged, collapsing from exhaustion.
A wave of cold dread crawled up Vein's spine.
Then, a sound.
A low, guttural hum.
Vein's pulse slowed.
He turned his head toward the source.
Beyond the injured adventurers, past the cavern's deeper recesses, something moved.
It emerged from the shadows.
At first, it was nothing but a looming shape, shifting unnaturally as if it wasn't bound by the laws of flesh.
Then, the details surfaced.
A grotesque figure hunched over, its elongated limbs dragging against the cavern floor.
Its dark, matted fur glistened with filth, torn in places where raw muscle and sinew peeked through.
It had four eyes—each an empty void, reflecting no light, only hunger.
Long, curved horns stretched from its skull, draped with skin—human skin—stitched together with something Vein didn't dare to identify.
Its mouth was an open wound, lined with jagged, uneven teeth, each one carved to puncture and tear.
But the worst part—the part that made Vein's stomach churn—was the way it moved.
It didn't walk. It didn't stalk.
It glided, as if the space between each step bent to its will, allowing it to flow seamlessly across the cavern floor.
Vein clenched his teeth.
That was an A-Class Mana Beast.
A monstrosity that should never have been in a forest like this.
"What the hell is something like this doing here…?"
But there was no time for questions.
The Creature's four eyes roamed the cavern, searching.
Then—
It stopped moving.
It had sensed them.
A single, ragged breath escaped Vein's lips.
His mind raced. If it found them, they were all dead.
The wounded adventurers had no chance of running. He couldn't fight it—not in his current state, not in a confined space.
He had one option.
His grip on his sword tightened.
Then—he ran.
***
The instant Vein moved, the Wendigo's head snapped toward him.
Its inhuman shriek tore through the cavern, a sound so unnatural it sent a visceral chill straight into Vein's bones.
Then, it lunged.
Vein barely had time to dodge as the
Wendigo's clawed hand gouged the stone wall beside him, carving deep, jagged trenches into the rock.
"Fast—!"
He bolted, weaving through the cavern as the beast pursued him.
It didn't run—it flowed, its body shifting, stretching, moving in ways that made no sense.
The walls trembled as its claws ripped through the cavern. Vein's breath came in ragged gasps, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs.
He didn't dare look back.
But he could hear it.
Too close.
The moment he slowed—even for a second—he would die.
Then the tunnel suddenly opened up into a vast, cavernous chamber.
And at its center, a chasm.
Vein's eyes widened. There was no way across.
Behind him, the Wendigo's growl deepened, its excitement palpable.
It knew it had cornered him.
Vein inhaled sharply.
Then, he did something insane.
He turned to face it.
The Creature paused.
For the first time, it hesitated—watching him with those void-like eyes.
Vein's fingers twitched on the hilt of his sword. He wasn't strong enough to kill this thing. He knew that.
But if he was going to die here—
He'd make sure the adventurers would live a bit longer.
He shifted his stance, lowering his body.
His muscles tensed. His grip on the sword tightened.
The Creature tilted its head.
Then—it moved.
A blur of darkness.
Vein's heart slammed in his chest.
"Move—!"