The fifty Evolution Points glowed in Kaelen's interface, a tangible reward for the violence he had endured in the arena.
Yet, as he stood in the dim alley, the adrenaline fading, they felt insufficient. The path to true power demanded more—more struggle, more risk, more blood.
The System, as if reading his thoughts, provided direction.
**[New Mission Received: Predator's Prey]**
**Objective: Hunt and eliminate a Magical Beast within the city's periphery (The Blackwood). Recommended Threat Level: F+ to E-.**
**Reward: 80 Evolution Points. Unlock: [Appraisal Eye (Novice)].**
**Failure: Death.**
**Time Limit: 48 hours.**
A hunt. Solitary, away from the prying eyes of the city and Darian's guards. The reward was substantial, nearly double what the arena had offered. And the unlock—**[Appraisal Eye]**—was precisely the kind of tactical advantage he desperately needed. Knowledge was power, and the ability to identify threats and weaknesses at a glance could mean the difference between life and death.
But a Magical Beast? His body, even enhanced to F-Rank, was still fragile.
His only weapons were a cheap skinning knife, his wits, and the nascent **[Combat Instinct]**. He needed an edge, and for that, he needed information.
The memory of Lyra's amber eyes and cryptic help surfaced. She was a node of information in this unfamiliar world. He still had a few copper crowns left from her initial "investment." It wasn't much, but it was a pretext for another conversation.
He didn't return to the Grumbling Troll. Instead, he lingered in the network of alleys surrounding it, a shadow among shadows. He didn't have to wait long.
"Five coppers and not a scratch on you. I'm impressed."
Her voice came from above. He looked up to see Lyra perched casually on a low-hanging roof beam, her form silhouetted against the hazy glow of the city's magical lights. "The Ghost. A bit dramatic, but it fits your style."
"How did you know?" he asked, cutting to the chase. "About the... points?"
She dropped down silently in front of him, her landing making no sound. "I didn't. Not for certain.
But I know desperation. I know the look in a man's eyes when he's weighing his soul against a new power, contemplating a transaction most wouldn't dare. You had that look. I took a guess." She shrugged, a fluid, economical motion. "Seems I was right."
Her intuition was terrifying. Kaelen filed the information away, another piece of the puzzle that was Lyra. "I need information. The Blackwood. Magical Beasts there."
Her eyebrow arched, a flicker of genuine interest in her amber eyes. "Ambitious for a freshly Blooded. Or stupid.
There's a Grimalkin prowling the southern edges. Fast, claws like razors, can blend with shadows. It's been picking off lone travelers. The guard's bounty is three silvers for its hide. Too much trouble for them to organize a proper hunt, not enough reward for a real Hunter to bother with."
A Grimalkin. A shadow-cat. It sounded like a terrible match for his current abilities—fast, stealthy, and deadly. But the System had recommended it. It saw potential where others saw only death.
"I have a few copper left," he said, holding out the coins.
Lyra looked at the coins, then back at his face, her expression unreadable. Finally, she pushed his hand away. "Keep your coppers. Consider this part of my ongoing investment." She leaned closer, her voice dropping. "The Grimalkin's weakness is light. A sudden, bright flash can stun it for a second, break its connection to the shadows.
But you'll only get one chance." She paused, her gaze intense, stripping away his defenses. "Survive this, Kaelen. I'd hate for my investment to go to waste."
With that, she was gone again, leaving him with a target, a sliver of a strategy, and the deepening certainty that he was a piece on a game board he didn't fully understand.
He spent his remaining coppers not on food, but on supplies. A cheap, hooded cloak of dark, coarse wool to better blend into the forest's gloom.
The skinning knife remained his only real weapon. And, after a moment of strategic thought, he found a street vendor hawking minor magical trinkets and traded the brass buckle from his old trousers for a small, milky-white sunstone. It was a weak, common magical item that could be struck to emit a faint, steady glow for a few minutes.
It was a pathetic version of the "sudden, bright flash" Lyra had suggested, but it was all he could afford. It would have to be enough.
As dusk began to settle, painting the twin moons in pale, ethereal hues, Kaelen stood at the edge of the Blackwood.
The forest was a wall of ancient, twisted trees, their gnarled branches forming a canopy so thick it seemed to swallow the dying light.
The cheerful, chaotic noises of the city died away behind him, replaced by an unnerving silence broken only by the rustle of unseen things and the whisper of the wind through the leaves. The air was cold and heavy, carrying the rich, fungal scent of damp earth and decay.
He took a deep breath, the reality of his situation settling upon him. No crowd, no rules. Just him, the beast, and the System. This was the true test.
He touched the cheap knife at his belt and the sunstone in his pocket. His **[Combat Instinct]** was already humming, a persistent, low-level warning of the dangers that waited within. He pulled the hood over his head and stepped into the dark.
The silence of the Blackwood was a lie. It wasn't an absence of sound, but a blanket that amplified every one of his own movements.
The crunch of a twig under his foot was like a thunderclap. The rustle of his cloak against a bush sounded like a warning signal. He moved as Lyra had—silently, from the shadow of one massive trunk to the next, using the forest itself as his cover.
For an hour, he saw nothing but twisted trees, phosphorescent fungi, and the occasional skittering of some small, unseen creature. The tension was a wire drawn taut within him, tighter with every step. This was worse than the arena. There, the enemy was visible. Here, the enemy was the forest itself, and the invisible thing he knew was waiting.
A flicker of movement to his left. He froze, pressing himself against the rough bark of a ancient oak. His eyes strained, trying to pierce the deep, pooling shadows between the trees. Nothing. But his **[Combat Instinct]** flared, a hot, sharp needle jabbing behind his eyes. The threat was close. Very close.
He held his breath, every sense screaming. Then he heard it—a soft, almost silent *pad-pad* of feet on damp moss. It was circling him.
He risked a glance around the trunk.
Two pools of shimmering, malevolent emerald hovered in the darkness about twenty feet away. They were unblinking.
As his eyes adjusted, the form of the Grimalkin coalesced around them. It was larger than he had imagined, the size of a wolf, its fur not black but a deep, light-devouring violet that made it a living piece of the shadow.
Its body was pure, coiled muscle, and he could see the glint of its claws, each one as long as his finger, digging into the soft earth.
**[Appraisal Eye (Novice) Activated.]**
**Name: Shadow Grimalkin**
**Threat Level: E-**
**Description: A nocturnal predator. Excels in ambushes. Uses shadow-melding for camouflage and swift, silent strikes.**
**Weakness: Susceptible to bright, sudden light. Relies on stealth; becomes disoriented when its advantage is lost.**
The confirmation sent a fresh wave of adrenaline through him. E-. A full rank above him. The System hadn't sent him on an easy hunt. This was a test he could very well fail.
The Grimalkin stopped circling. Its haunches tensed. It was going to pounce.
There was no time for fear. There was only the cold calculus of survival. He had one chance.
As the beast launched itself from the shadows, a silent, fluid streak of death, Kaelen didn't try to dodge. He couldn't. It was too fast. Instead, he did the one thing it wouldn't expect. He charged forward, meeting its leap.
At the same moment, he raised the sunstone and slammed it hard against the tree trunk he'd been hiding behind.
*Crack.*
The milky stone fractured, and a pulse of pure, white light erupted from it, flooding the small clearing. It wasn't a brilliant, sustained flash, but for a single, crucial second, it was as bright as day.
The Grimalkin let out a piercing, alien shriek of pain and surprise. Its shadow-melding failed instantly, its form becoming starkly visible in the blinding light. Its charge faltered, its body twisting mid-air as it tried to shield its hypersensitive eyes.
That second was all Kaelen had. His **[Combat Instinct]** mapped the trajectory. He dropped to his knees, sliding under the beast's uncontrolled, flailing body.As he passed beneath it, he didn't slash wildly with the knife.
He targeted one specific, vulnerable point he'd seen in that frozen moment of light—the soft, unarmored patch under its jaw.
He drove the skinning knife upward with all his enhanced Strength, putting the weight of his body and his momentum behind it.
The sensation was sickening. The blade met resistance, then sank deep. Hot, black blood gushed over his hand and arm. The Grimalkin's shriek turned into a wet, choking gurgle.
They landed in a heap, Kaelen scrambling out from under the twitching, dying creature. He stood, panting, his chest heaving, his entire body trembling from the adrenaline crash. The beast thrashed for a few more seconds on the forest floor, its emerald eyes dimming, before it finally lay still.
The silence of the Blackwood returned, deeper and more profound than before.
He looked at his hands, covered in dark, sticky blood. He had killed. Not in self-defense in a chaotic brawl, but with cold, premeditated strategy. He had lured it, blinded it, and executed it. The hollow feeling from the arena was back, but it was sharper now, more defined. This was the price of power.
**[Mission Complete: Predator's Prey.]**
**Reward: 80 Evolution Points. [Appraisal Eye (Novice)] Permanently Unlocked.**
**Analyzing Host's Performance...**
**Bonus Reward Unlocked for Efficient Elimination: 20 Evolution Points.**
A total of 100 EP. He now had 150. The exact amount needed for the next step. But as he stood over his kill, the System's reward felt secondary to the weight of the act itself. He had survived again, evolved again.
But he was leaving something of his old self behind in the dark soil of the Blackwood, something that the blood of the Grimalkin could never wash away.