The wind brushed past Zarek's ears.
The faint, blood-curdling screams echoing from the distance did nothing to stop his steps.
Misery's condition was dire.
The four goblins outclassed him, their movements sharper and more brutal. Even with his ferocity, Misery was being pushed back, his breathing ragged and his body covered in cuts.
Zarek's eyes narrowed.
Every heartbeat brought him closer to the pack.
Every second, the distance shrank.
Just as he closed in, one of the goblins—missing an arm and dripping blood—turned sharply toward him. Its jagged teeth gleamed as it let out a guttural cry of excitement.
Not good!
Zarek's pupils contracted. Without hesitation, he surged forward, the muscles in his arms bulging from the sudden burst of strength.
For a brief instant, the world slowed.
He wasn't sure if it was the effect of transmigration or his newly acquired skill, but he saw it—a phantom image of the goblin's next move, playing out a heartbeat before it happened.
And there, glowing faintly, a cross-shaped mark shimmered across the goblin's throat.
Instinctively, Zarek knew: its weak point.
By the time this realization hit, he was already within striking distance.
The other three goblins finally noticed him and whirled around, their beady crimson eyes glinting with bloodlust as they lunged toward him.
Misery seized the opening. With a desperate roar, he hurled himself at the nearest goblin.
Caught off guard, the creature couldn't react in time before Misery's sharp fangs ripped into its throat, tearing flesh and cartilage apart.
Somewhere in the back of Zarek's mind, a notification chimed, but he had no time to check it.
The remaining goblins didn't even realize one of their companions had been slain.
Their entire focus was on Zarek.
Now it was three against two.
The closest goblin lunged forward, throwing a savage punch.
At its small height, the blow barely reached Zarek's chest.
But Zarek's white pupils never left its form.
Again, he saw the phantom attack before it happened, the premonition overlapping with reality.
He moved before the strike could connect.
Sidestepping with fluid precision, he spun in a full circle and drove his dagger into its throat.
Puchi!
The blade pierced deep, bursting the goblin's jugular like a water balloon.
A spray of steaming blood painted the cavern walls crimson, a few droplets landing warm against Zarek's face and neck.
The sensation sent a shiver crawling down his spine. His heart thundered wildly, whether from adrenaline or something darker, he didn't know.
For a split second, the battlefield froze.
The last two goblins stared in shock, their primitive minds struggling to process what had just happened.
Fear flickered in their eyes.
Then fear gave way to rage.
"ROAR!"
Their maddened howls filled the cavern, saliva and bits of flesh flying from their mouths.
But Zarek wasn't intimidated.
Two against two—finally, an even fight.
Misery struck first, lunging at one goblin from behind while Zarek charged directly at the other.
He rammed into the small creature like a battering ram, the impact sending it flying backward.
Though Zarek didn't realize it, his current strength was nearly three times that of a normal human, enough to toss a simple goblin like a ragdoll.
Crash!
Both bodies slammed into the ground.
The goblin shrieked in pain as the sickening sound of bones snapping echoed through the cavern.
Zarek didn't hesitate.
He thrust his dagger downward, piercing directly through its eye socket and deep into its skull.
The goblin spasmed once, then went limp.
Another notification pinged in his head, but Zarek ignored it, staring instead at the lifeless body beneath him.
"I… I killed him."
His voice trembled, but his eyes burned with exhilaration.
"I killed the monster that wanted to kill me."
A strange mix of excitement and satisfaction surged through his veins.
Back on Earth, if someone insulted or attacked him, he had been powerless, forced to swallow the humiliation.
But now… now things were different.
He could make them pay.
While Zarek gathered his thoughts, Misery began dragging the other two goblin corpses toward him.
The summoned goblin tilted its head, a questioning glint in its eyes, as if silently asking what Zarek wanted done with the bodies.
Zarek blinked at the unexpected display of intelligence.
"…Do whatever you want," he said mentally with a shrug.
The moment the command registered, Misery's eyes glimmered with barely contained excitement.
He immediately hauled the corpses into a dark corner and began tearing them apart, his claws digging through flesh and bone in a frenzied search for something.
Zarek sat down against the cold stone wall, trying to catch his breath as he watched from a distance.
The brutal scene turned his stomach.
He had read countless novels with gore, thought himself desensitized…
Reality was so much worse.
To distract himself, he summoned Misery's status window.
[First Sequence Summon – Misery]
[Grade: Regular]
[Infinite Origin: 2]
[Strength: 1.6] +
[Agility: 1.3] +
[Perception: 0.9] +
[Physique: 1.4] +
[Mana: 0.1] +
Skill: Prey Sense (Level 1)
As expected, Infinite Origin had increased—by two points.
Zarek quickly deduced the link: the number seemed to rise based on monsters killed directly by the summon.
Still, he wasn't entirely sure, so he made a mental note to test it later.
He tried pressing the plus sign again.
A message popped up:
Not enough Infinite Origin.
Gather more Infinite Origin to increase stats.
Zarek frowned. "Still not enough, huh?"
It wasn't ideal, but it was no surprise.
While he examined the panel, Misery's grisly work continued.
Blood soaked his crude leather armor until it looked like a devil had crawled straight out of hell. His expression twisted with frustration as he struggled to rip through the corpses, his strength barely sufficient for the task.
When he noticed Zarek's gaze on him, Misery froze and tried to feign innocence.
The attempt only made him look more horrifying.
Zarek quickly turned his head away.
"…This guy's smarter than I thought."
"Let's see what this Infinite Summoning Link can really do," Zarek muttered, focusing back on his panel.
According to its description, he could add or transfer stats between himself and his summon.
Now it was time to test it.
A new window appeared, offering two options: Add or Transfer.
After a moment's thought, Zarek chose to add one point to Strength.
Immediately, a warm rush surged through his veins.
Misery's Strength stat dropped by one, while Zarek's rose—from 2.6 to 3.6.
The difference was immediate.
His muscles felt denser, more powerful, his body sturdier.
It was almost intoxicating.
He flexed his hand, a confident grin tugging at his lips.
"If I faced that same goblin now… I could crush it with one punch."
Of course, it was merely an illusion caused by the sudden surge in power.
Misery, meanwhile, stared at his own trembling arms in absolute horror, letting out a distressed shriek as the sudden weakness hit him.
Zarek quickly reversed the process, transferring the stat back.
Misery's strength returned, and the goblin slumped in relief.
Zarek gazed at his hands in awe.
"What a miraculous skill… In the future, when Misery grows stronger, I could turn the tide of battle in an instant."
Countless possibilities flashed through his mind—tactics, ambushes, ways to deceive his enemies.
But he forced himself to shake the thoughts away and stood up.
There was no time to linger.
If he wanted to clear the dungeon and reach the next floor, he had to keep moving.
Meanwhile, outside the ruins…
A commotion erupted among the onlookers.
"Wait—Isn't that White Death?!"
"The prodigy of Bluehorn City who awakened a rare-grade class!"
"Why would someone like her be here?!"
The crowd parted instinctively as a woman stepped forward.
Dressed in a simple white robe, her expression was colder than ice, her very presence radiating danger.