I narrowed my eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light filtering through the thick jungle canopy. Shadows danced with every rustle of a leaf, and the humid air hung heavy with tension. Then—
Something darted out from the dense underbrush with surprising speed. A blur, no bigger than a large dog, zipped past the twisted roots and vanished into the foliage.
Then came the scent—sharp, coppery.
Crimson droplets stained the leaves where the creature had passed, forming a thin, winding trail that led deeper into the jungle.
Without wasting a second, I moved. Not recklessly—I wasn’t some amateur charging after a rabbit.
I stayed low, weaving between the trees, my boots making minimal sound against the damp earth.
The trail wasn’t long, but it twisted, like the creature was staggering... or luring me.
After several minutes of tense pursuit, I arrived at a peculiar clearing. The jungle opened slightly—only to reveal something far more suspicious.
Several colossal trees stood tightly clustered together, their bark thick like armor and roots twisted like skeletal hands trying to reach out and ensnare me. The air here was colder, damper.
And those trees—they weren’t just tall.
They were aligned. Purposefully. Like they were guarding something.
In the center stood a single, massive tree, towering over the others, its leaves shaped like hexagons, wide as human torsos. At its base, a chunk of bark was peeled open like a gaping wound.
The blood trail led straight into that hollow.
My fingers curled around the hilt of my sword. I didn’t rush. Every step forward was measured, deliberate.
The closer I got, the more the smell intensified—thick with the sharp sting of blood, the sourness of rot, and an undertone of poison.
I was a few meters away when it happened.
Something lunged from the side—fast, low, and deadly.
I didn’t think. My body moved before my mind did. In one fluid motion, I unsheathed my blade and swung.
The steel cleaved through flesh, bone, and muscle.
The creature was split clean in half mid-air, its warm blood splattering the grass beneath. Both halves of its feline body thudded to the ground beside me.
I exhaled sharply. The attack was pure instinct... and a bit of Swordsmanship that had been drilled into me during my nightmarish training with Isolde.
I flicked the blade to the side, flinging the blood in a clean arc before swiping it once against the bark of a nearby tree.
The corpse belonged to a feline creature, forest-green stripes running along its fur in sharp angular patterns.
It was built for stealth—its coloration blending perfectly with the mossy undergrowth and thick vines of the jungle.
"That explains why I didn’t see it coming..."
A low growl rumbled in the distance. My gaze sharpened, and I instinctively turned to leave—no need to stick around longer than necessary.
That sensation of being watched.
I froze for half a second before bursting into motion. My legs kicked off the ground as I leapt toward the nearest low-hanging branch.
With a grunt, I hoisted myself up, using a single arm to pull my body above the treeline.
Once steady, I crouched, scanning the forest floor below with sharp eyes.
From within the dark hollow of that central tree—two golden orbs shimmered.
Watching me. Unblinking.
The figure remained obscured in the shadows, but the glint of its fangs and the way it crouched low gave it away. It hadn’t lunged yet. It was waiting. Calculating.
The system flared to life:
Alignment: Aggressive
Drop: Feline Meat (★★), Fur (★★), Canine (★)
My blade remained steady in my grip.
Another ★★-rank beast. Stronger than the previous one, but nothing beyond my current ability.
It had let its partner die first. It hadn’t attacked immediately. That meant intelligence. Or at least a higher level of cunning than the average monster.
"Smart little bastard," I murmured under my breath, narrowing my eyes.
But intelligence or not—it made one mistake.
I tensed my legs, mana coiling at my feet.
Without wasting a moment, I launched myself toward the beast, my body zipping through the air like an arrow let loose from a taut bowstring.
The Feline Stalker responded in kind, sensing the aggression radiating off me.
It lunged forward with a primal roar, its jaw parting to reveal rows of jagged teeth, gleaming wet with thick, stringy drool that spilled uncontrollably from its mouth.
My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword. With fluid motion, I loosened the tension in my arm and brought the blade down in a powerful vertical slash, aiming to split the monster from head to gut in a single clean blow.
The blade passed through air.
There was no resistance. No blood. No impact.
My eyes widened slightly.
Before I could adjust, I caught movement to my left—another Stalker lunging out from the dense thicket. From the right came another. Twin assaults. They were trying to surround me.
"Crafty bastards," I muttered.
The one on the left slashed at me with its claws, forcing me to twist my body mid-air. The impact knocked my blade from my grip, sending it spiraling to the forest floor below. I didn’t have time to retrieve it.
The right one pounced, aiming for my exposed neck.
I spun in place, pivoting my torso and bringing my leg around in a powerful roundhouse kick that connected squarely with the side of its skull.
I felt the bone crack under the pressure, and its head twisted unnaturally as its body slammed into the dirt with a muffled thud.
I landed, boots digging into the soft ground. My blade clattered a few feet away.
The injured one wobbled upright, its eyes dimming but still alight with fury. Blood trickled from the side of its head, and its breathing was ragged. But it wasn’t done yet.
Then, all three let out a guttural howl, a harsh, ringing sound that vibrated through the air like a shockwave.
"Tch—!" I gritted my teeth, a wave of dizziness hitting me like a hammer to the skull. My limbs twitched involuntarily. My vision doubled for a second. My entire body froze, locked in place.
Paralysis. Must be one of their innate abilities.
As I struggled to shake off the numbing sensation, the two remaining Stalkers charged—fangs bared, eyes glinting with predatory glee.
One aimed for my arm. The other for my leg.
But I moved. Barely—but I moved.
Twisting to the side, I managed to avoid both fatal bites, though I felt their fangs graze my body. My silver uniform tore with a screeching sound, fabric ripping, exposing skin.
I hissed. Not from pain. From annoyance.
"Oh c’mon I liked this uniform..."
With their backs now turned to me, I seized the opportunity.
I lunged forward, grabbing both by the tails in a single motion. Their bodies weren’t too heavy—nothing I couldn’t lift.
With a grunt, I spun, lifting them high above my head and—
Slammed them into the ground.
The earth cracked beneath the impact. Blood splattered in a wide arc, painting the grass red. Their bones broke under the relentless battering. One of the creatures let out a gurgling whimper, its body twitching.
A few seconds later, the system chimed in:
I dropped their lifeless corpses, their forms unrecognizable from the brutal assault. My silver uniform, once pristine, was now drenched in crimson. The coppery scent of blood clung to me like a second skin.
Breathing steadily, I turned my attention back to the last remaining Stalker.
It was already fleeing—bolting into the darkness of its den with its tail tucked between its legs.
Without hesitation, I gathered mana into my legs, compressing it into my muscles and tendons. With an explosive step, I shot forward, tearing through the underbrush, pursuing the creature at top speed.
It led me into the hollow beneath the towering tree.
For a moment, I hesitated. It could be a trap. The intelligent ones always had a trick or two up their sleeves.
"What’s the worst a little gremlin like that could do?"
I entered the hollow.
It wasn’t entirely dark inside—faint light flickered from deeper within. A small fireball, weak and dying, cast dancing shadows on the inner bark. Its flame trembled like it was afraid, barely clinging to life.
A young man, likely another examinee judging from his partially intact uniform. His body was a ruin.
One of his arms had been completely torn off. His legs were mangled—bones visible, skin shredded.
A deep gash ran across his face, splitting his features nearly in half. It was impossible to recognize who he once was.
But somehow... he was still breathing.
His blood-soaked lips trembled. He struggled to raise his head. Then—barely audible—he croaked:
"P-please... s-save...me..."
His voice was a whisper, a thread of desperation hanging by its final strand.
I stared at him. Calm. Unmoved.
I didn’t have any healing items. Not that I would’ve used them even if I did.
To be blunt—he wasn’t worth saving. Anyone who could be torn to shreds by a mere ★★ monster wasn’t someone who would survive the academy. He was already dead—the only thing left was his heartbeat.
And I wasn’t about to risk my life for someone so... mediocre.
I stepped past him, not sparing a second glance, and moved deeper into the tree’s interior.
The final Stalker was still hiding.
And I wasn’t done collecting points.