With a broken heart, Kaelvren let out a shaky breath, trying to blow away the stress and fear that were crashing in his chest.
But it didn't help.
He was stranded, alone, and unarmed. Not that he had much to begin with—but now, he had nothing. No spear, no idea. Just a useless artifact in his hand that felt more like a death weight.
The world around him was desolate and dangerous—a place full of life-taking dangers, where even a Rank 8 Harbinger died without any chance. With that thought, he met the eyes of the Gravestalker, and his own were filled with misery.
He murmured that if something that strong had been torn apart, what chance did he have?
He was sitting like a duck on a boulder, thinking nonsense.
With that, his mind drifted back to his days in Citadellae Ruinae. He recalled his lesson from one of his elders:
"A monster's corpse does not disappear after death. Use it before another monster eats it."
With that line echoing in his mind, Kaelvren started to get to work. But this time, it was going to be difficult.
The Gravestalker wasn't just any monster—it was a Rank 8 Harbinger, a predator that even Rank 9 Pioneers feared to face. Stripping it for resources wouldn't be as easy as carving up a lesser beast. Its body was mostly carved with bones, making it a nightmare to deal with. Without proper tools, this was going to be a hell of a job. But… First things first.
Let's come up with a plan.
Step one: extract its claws.
It was going to be a challenge—but not an impossible one.
After extracting its claws, he turned them into makeshift knives to dissect the Gravestalker's own body. Hours of struggle and hard work later, he had crafted a crude bone armor for himself and fashioned a dagger from the creature's remains. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than being defenseless. Even though it wasn't elegant, it was still functional—offering some protection against the cold wind.
With that, his gaze fell upon the Gravestalker's meat. He wasn't sure if it was edible, but he had no other food source. He had no idea how long this trial would last. Perhaps he would be stuck here forever—if fate had decided so.
Carefully, he carved out several pieces of flesh and set them aside, knowing he would need fire to cook them properly. Until then, he wrapped the meat in layers of hide to preserve it for later. He also separated some thinner cuts, hoping they would dry and turn into jerky over time.
Just as he finished making his gear, a sudden realization struck him: "I am such an idiot; what kind of man am I to have not checked my Nexus tab?"
With that, he immediately uttered a single word: "Nexus."
A deep hum resonated in his mind, and suddenly, a holographic dark screen materialized before him, glowing faintly in the dim light.
---
[NEXUS]
Name : Sanctus Kaelvren Stormborn Dominus Citadellae Ruinae
Soulname : Not Obtained
Talent : Undetermined
Ranking : Unawakened / Lesser
⨳ Soul Job : Not Assigned
Soul Flaw: Not Revealed
Soul Attributes : Undermine
Soul Core: Not Formed
Soul World: Absent
⨳ BLOODLINE
Bloodline : Dormant
God's Blessings : None
Bloodline Ability : Unawaken
⨳ Attributes
Strength: 4
Agility: 7
Vitality: 10
Endurance: 4
Perception: 3
Luck: 7
⨳ Abilities : None
⨳ Artifacts : 1
⨳ Echoes : None
[Notice]
All the soul fragments you have accumulated will be calculated at the end of the trial.
As the screen formed in front of him, his heart began to pound. A wave of unease settled over him, and he found himself rubbing his eyes, half-expecting the numbers to change. But they didn't.
Then, suddenly, a nonsensical thought popped into his mind, unbidden and intrusive, and then he saw it.
"Luck 7? Seriously? My whole life has been nothing but misfortune—this trial included. So why the hell is my luck so high?"
He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. Either the system had a twisted sense of humor, or there was something wrong with his eyes.
With that, he began contemplating the next step he should take for his survival in this trial; a thought lingered in his mind.
Lifting his gaze toward the sky, he saw two moons—one smaller, one larger. His eyes settled on the twin moons, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
He licked his lips and murmured, "Maybe I won't be able to leave this world."
Then, everything shifted.
The scene blurred, the twin moons merging into one singular, radiant orb. The silver light bathed the world in an ethereal glow, and within that shimmering luminescence, two girls stood facing each other as if locked in a duel.
Their hair, flowing like liquid silver, shimmered beneath the celestial glow, each strand reflecting the moonlight as if woven from stardust itself. Their eyes, a mesmerizing shade of bright blue, gleamed like polished crystals, with a delicate border of gray that added an air of mystery. They looked like fairies born from the moon—ethereal, enchanting, their beauty both serene and haunting.
The surroundings were nothing but an endless desert, stretching infinitely in all directions. The two girls stood motionless in the moonlight, identical in every way—their faces, their weapons, even their clothes mirrored one another. But there was one difference.
One girl remained silent, her expression unreadable, her dark, empty eyes holding an unfathomable depth. The other, however, suddenly yelled, "Die, you bitch!"
With that, she lunged forward, and a dance of reapers began; then the scene shifted in an instant.
The girl with dark eyes was no longer standing; she was now lying on the desert floor, motionless.
Then, without a sound, she simply faded away, vanishing into thin air as if she had never existed.
With a sharp ding ringing in her ears, she turned her head, startled.
A glowing [Notification] appeared before her eyes.
[Notice: You have passed the trial of belief and will now form a soul core.]
As the notification faded, the world around her shifted. The endless desert vanished, replaced by the darkness of the Temple of Belief.
Before she could even comprehend what was happening, an unbearable pain consumed her.
It felt as if her bones were shattering and reforming, her flesh tearing apart and rebuilding itself from the inside out.
Every impurity in her body was being forcibly purged, leaving nothing but raw, refined essence behind. She clenched her teeth, unable to scream as the pain reached its peak. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Gasping for breath, she collapsed to her knees. A sharp ding echoed in her mind as her Nexus activated once more.
---
[NEXUS]
Name : Laynara Moonveil Nata Caeli Reflecti
Soulname : Naelara
Talent : Transcendent
Ranking : Achiever
⨳ Soul Job : Twin Breaker
Soul Flaw: Fractured Will
Soul Attributes : Traces Of Moonlight, Clarity, Reflection, Equilibrium
Soul Core : 1
Soul fragment : [00/1500]
Soul World: Absent
⨳ BLOODLINE
Bloodline : Dormant
God's Blessings : None
Bloodline Ability : Unawaken
⨳ Attributes
Strength : 8
Agility : 12
Vitality : 20
Endurance : 12
Perception : 6
Luck: 5
⨳ Abilities : 3
⨳ Artifacts : 1
⨳ Echoes : None
—
With that, she opened her eyes inside the pod where she lay.
In front of her, a woman was standing still—her features strikingly similar, the same silver moonlit hair and crystal-blue eyes, but with an air of maturity, as if she were an older sister… or something more.
A soft voice called out, "Mother?" The girl lay inside the pod, lunged forward, breaking free from the health support of the pod and throwing herself into the warm embrace of her woman.
Then darkness fell, and with that darkness, a twin moon appeared.
The twin moons shone brighter than ever, casting their ghostly glow over the desolate landscape.
Beneath the silver radiance, a lone figure stood, his body drenched in the gray blood of a slain beast.
The metallic scent of death lingered in the air as Kaelvren worked, his hands moving with practiced precision despite the trembling in his fingers.
With a sharp exhale, he plunged his hands into the monster's chest, pushing past torn flesh and shattered bones.
Then, his fingers closed around something solid. Slowly, he pulled it free—a monster core. It gleamed under the moonlight, pulsing like a gemstone infused with raw energy. He tightened his grip around the core, his breath steady but his thoughts in turmoil.
What should I do with this? If he ever found a spatial treasure—a storage box, a space-related ability—he could keep it safe. But for now, he had no such luxury. And there was no telling how long he would remain trapped in this world.
In reality, monster cores weren't some priceless treasure. They were fairly common—at least the low-grade ones. But high-grade cores? Those were rare and valuable, especially in situations like this. They greatly helped with soul absorption and fragment recovery. Even low-grade ones could be useful, assuming he could absorb them properly.
Until then, all he could do was stash the core in a crude, handmade bag stitched together from the hide of his most recent kill. With a deep breath, he secured the bag and adjusted his grip on his makeshift weapons—a rough spear and a jagged dagger.
His body still trembled—not from exhaustion, but from something else. A weight pressing against his chest. A creeping, nameless dread. Then, he heard it. A sound. Not a growl. Not a howl.
A deliberate, rhythmic chime. Faint. Distant. Kaelvren froze. His muscles were stiff from the Shiver that crawled down his spine.
Slowly, he turned, his gaze sweeping across the dark, desolate land. And then—he saw it. A faint, crimson flicker on the horizon.
A monster.
A trap.
Or some kind of signal. His breath was uneven. His heart beat as if it would burst.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. I'm gonna die.