The Forest of Velgrid breathed like a living titan—old, cold, and predatory. Every tree leaned inward as though conspiring, the canopy so thick it strangled the sunlight. The air carried the metallic tang of blood and a pressure that crawled under the skin.
I stepped through the last veil of foliage, the ground trembling beneath my boots.
Boom—BOOM—BOOM—
The forest shuddered.
A shadow dropped from above—a boulder of muscle and rage wrapped in cracked green skin. The giant orc landed hard enough to crater the earth, dust curling upward in violent spirals around its feet.
It stood at least four meters tall, the size of a small house. Its tusks were long and serrated, its eyes feral red, its presence radiating catastrophic energy.
A monster like this shouldn't exist this close to Norn.
But then again… neither should someone like me.
The orc exhaled heavily, nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air.
When its eyes locked onto me, it grinned as though it had found prey.
I chuckled.
"Perfect. A warm-up."
The orc roared—a thunderous, bone-shaking sound—and charged, tearing up the earth behind it.
I didn't move.
Not until the very last moment.
Its fist—large enough to crush a car—swung down with hurricane force.
I lifted my hand.
My shadow stretched.
The Abyss stirred.
KRRRSHHHH—
The earth beneath me split as the Abyssal World surged through my veins. Energy rippled outward, a black shimmer crawling over my skin like an oil-slick aura. My very presence distorted the air.
My blade manifested in my hand—the Abyssal Edge, forged from the Black Tree's heartwood.
I swung once.
A clean arc.
A whisper of darkness.
The orc's arm didn't explode. It didn't even snap.
It rotted.
From the point of impact, black veins spread like wildfire, devouring flesh, essence, and life. The orc stumbled backward, a hideous, confused shriek ripping from its throat.
The forest trembled.
The Abyss fed.
I stepped forward, shadows coiling around my feet.
"It's useless," I said softly. "Your essence is already mine."
The orc threw a desperate punch with its remaining arm.
I caught it.
With my bare hand.
His strength slammed into me like a meteor—any normal hunter would've been launched across the forest. But I remained rooted, the black sea beneath my skin calmly absorbing everything.
I pulled.
The orc convulsed violently as black smoke—pure essence—ripped out of its chest and flowed into my palm like a screaming river.
Abyssal Drain.
My inner world responded, hungry and ecstatic.
Power flooded me, drowning me from inside, making my veins glow faintly purple-black.
The orc's roar faded into a pathetic whimper.
Then silence.
The creature collapsed forward, a hollow corpse with its essence stripped to the core.
I exhaled.
And felt stronger. Again.
My growth had no ceiling. No limit. No boundary.
I was the master of an infinite world.
The moment the orc's body hit the ground, the forest stirred again.
Bushes split.
Growls echoed in the dark.
Dire Wolves—twenty, maybe more—circled me, each one nearly the size of a horse, fur black as tar and eyes glowing violet from the forest's corrupt mana.
They moved like shadows.
Predators born to kill catastrophe-level beasts.
To them, I must've looked like prey.
I smiled.
"Come then."
One lunged.
I sidestepped and slammed my heel onto its skull, coating the ground in black cracks.
Two more pounced.
My eyes burned violet.
The shadows behind me erupted into spearlike tendrils, impaling both wolves mid-air. Essence poured into the Abyss like fine wine.
I felt my pulse thicken with more power.
Every kill made me stronger.
Every breath I took expanded my world.
A wolf bit onto my arm.
Its teeth immediately decayed—rotting to mush as its snout disintegrated.
Another tried to flee.
My shadow stretched forward like a living serpent, coiling around its neck, tightening slowly until—
KRRAAAK—
Its head separated cleanly, torn into the dark.
But I didn't stop draining essence.
Not yet.
I wiped the blood from my face, flicking it lazily to the ground. It sizzled on contact with my aura.
The forest quieted.
Too quiet.
I could feel eyes—many eyes—watching from deeper inside. Observing. Measuring. Waiting.
Not monsters.
Not beasts.
People.
Inner World Users.
Rogue ones.
Just as Tess warned.
Far away, hidden deep in the heart of Velgrid Forest, a remote stone facility flickered with purple sigils. Torches burned with green fire, illuminating a long ancient corridor leading to a central chamber.
Inside, five figures sat at a round stone table.
Each one cloaked.
Each one masked.
Each one radiating monstrous pressure.
The one seated at the center tapped their fingers thoughtfully.
"A presence has entered Velgrid Forest."
Another leaned forward.
"Not just any presence. Something old. Something wrong."
A third clenched his jaw.
"I sensed an essence-devouring signature… like something consuming the forest itself."
A fourth figure whispered:
"Could it be… him? The boy the Guildmaster placed a bounty on?"
Silence.
Then the leader said simply:
"No matter who it is… prepare yourselves."
The green fires flickered, as though afraid.
"Our peace has ended."