Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash—
The air sang with the sharp rhythm of my blade. Each stroke was precise, flawless, cleaving through the translucent bodies of the slimes like a painter brushing his final strokes onto a masterpiece. The gelatinous creatures burst apart, their liquid forms dissipating into fading wisps of blue mana.
37 down.
I landed with perfect balance against the thick trunk of a towering tree, my boots pressing lightly against its bark. My body defied gravity as if the wind itself had granted me its favor. Swift Wind, a C-Class spell, surged through my veins, sharpening my movements, making me weightless—as light as a feather, as fast as an eagle.
It was intoxicating.
The raw difference between my past self, a mere Zone 0, and my present state as a Zone 4 was staggering. Magic pulsed within me, no longer a distant force but something innate, something mine.
I crouched.
The moment stretched—time slowed to a single breath.
My eyes locked onto the next slime, its amorphous body sluggishly oozing across the forest floor.
In an instant, my legs coiled with energy.
Whish
I launched myself off the trunk, the wind bending in my wake.
The slime barely had time to quiver before my sword pierced straight through its core, severing it cleanly. The impact sent ripples through its gelatinous body before it burst apart, dissolving into a flickering blue orb.
+5 EXP
I landed soundlessly, knees bending to absorb the force before I rose to full height. My breathing was steady. Controlled.
I scanned my surroundings, searching for more prey.
Mana flowed into my eyes and ears, heightening my senses beyond their natural limits. The world sharpened.
I listened.
The whispers of the forest filled my ears—the rustling of leaves, the distant murmurs of adventurers, the soft bubbling of a nearby stream. Every sound painted a vivid picture of my surroundings.
"…"
There are no more slimes in this area, huh.
Mana withdrew from my senses, returning them to normal. I yanked my sword from the fallen slime, letting it dissolve into a glowing blue orb.
The familiar pull of my spell activated, guiding the mana orbs from my slain enemies into my spatial ring with practiced precision.
Still… the forest is too quiet.
I shook off the nagging unease and started walking toward another slime hotspot.
———
Crunch
The brittle leaves cracked beneath my boots.
Whoosh
A warm wind grazed my cheek, carrying the scent of earth and wood.
Shuff
My leather armor shifted against the cotton lining beneath it.
Clank
The sword at my hip tapped gently against its sheath.
The sounds seemed louder, deeper, as though echoing through a vast void. My senses tingled with unnatural sharpness. For a fleeting moment, even the simple green grass shimmered with impossible detail.
I saw the ridges along its surface, the delicate beads of dew clinging stubbornly to its edges—
Then my body stopped cold.
My breath caught in my throat.
I stiffened, muscles taut as something in me twisted with primal dread.
The heightened senses weren't mine alone.
Am I leveling up? No, this isn't—
A sharp spike of awareness slammed into my chest.
My heart thundered. Sweat slicked my palms.
This wasn't the system.
This was killing intent.
Before I could think, my instincts flared. My sword ripped free from its sheath just as a violent gust of wind struck me like a war hammer.
Whoosh!
Air tore through my lungs as I hurtled backward, limbs flailing helplessly.
———-
Thud!
I slammed into the jagged face of a rocky outcrop, the impact knocking the breath from my body.
Pain exploded through my ribs as spit and blood flew from my mouth. I slid down the rough surface, vision spinning and hazy with red.
Crap… Internal damage.
Mana pulsed instinctively through my body, dulling the agony and reinforcing weakened muscles. The warmth steadied me, numbing the worst of the pain.
Grimacing, I forced myself upright and stumbled to the cliff's edge. My vision cleared just enough to see down into the dark forest below.
What I saw froze my blood.
A towering vortex of wind and mana churned amidst the trees. The swirling currents shimmered like glass, dense with raw magical energy. At its center hovered a bright, glowing core, pulsing like a heartbeat.
A Tempest Warden.
The apex of the wind slime species.
I remembered the description vividly from the clan's Adventure Guide:
"When a Tempest Warden marks you, escape is impossible. You cannot outrun the wind itself."
A B-Class monster.
———
Some time ago, I overheard a group of adventurers talking as I traveled toward this forest.
"Hey, chief! What are the chances we'll run into high-level beasts like C-Class or even B-Class monsters here?" one of the younger recruits asked, practically bouncing with excitement.
The grizzled captain gave a rough laugh. "Little to none, boy. This place's a playground for beginners. We only come here to recruit younglings like you." He spat into the dirt. "Still… if you're cursed by the gods themselves, maybe you'll run into one."
"Really?! Wow!"
The captain narrowed his eyes.
"Don't get excited, brat. It doesn't apply to you. Takes someone with cursed luck to pull that kind of nightmare." He clapped the recruit on the back with a playful smirk. "Hell, you're so scrawny even a carrot might fight back. Better start with that, huh?"
Laughter erupted from the group as the recruit flushed red.
———
I'd smiled at their antics back then. Still, for some reason, the captain's words lingered in my mind.
Cursed luck, huh…
I laughed off the foolish thought at the time.
But standing here now, face-to-face with a Tempest Warden, I couldn't help but think—
Guess he was right after all.